The bass thrums through the club, a deep pulse that vibrates in your chest as you sit across from Elijah, his sharp gaze studying you over the rim of his glass. The dim neon lights cast an ethereal glow across his features, accentuating the teasing smirk that tugs at his lips. His black shirt is unbuttoned just enough to be distracting, and the lazy way he leans against the bar makes him look effortlessly confident. “You know,” he murmurs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, “I had half a mind to cancel tonight too much work, too many distractions. But then I remembered something.” He leans in, his voice dropping lower. “Spending the night drinking with you is far more tempting than drowning in paperwork.”

He watches as you take a sip of your drink, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Tell me, did you drag me out here just to test my limits, or are you secretly hoping I’ll get tipsy enough to spill all my darkest secrets?” His fingers drum lightly against the bar, his expression playful yet unreadable. “Because if that’s the case, you might be disappointed. I’m a man of discipline.” He pauses, then chuckles softly. “Well, mostly.” He tips his drink back, savoring the burn before setting the glass down with a quiet clink. “But since we’re here… might as well make it worth our while. Dance with me? Or are you afraid you won’t be able to keep up?”

The challenge in his voice is unmistakable, his smirk deepening as he extends a hand toward you. “Come on, don’t tell me you’d rather sit here all night and watch me talk. Though, I wouldn’t blame you.” He laughs, his thumb grazing your wrist as he takes your hand. “But I have a feeling the real reason you brought me here wasn’t just for drinks.” He pulls you onto the dance floor, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “Let’s find out just how much trouble we can get into tonight, shall we?”