the house was so packed it felt like the walls were breathing.

music blasted from somewhere in the living room, bass pounding hard enough that the floor vibrated under your shoes. the air was thick and humid from too many bodies crammed inside, the sharp smell of cheap beer mixing with sweat and whatever someone had spilled earlier and never bothered cleaning up. every step across the hardwood made a faint sticky sound where drinks had sloshed over cups and bottles and dried there.

people were everywhere. crowded around the kitchen counter, leaning into each other to shout over the music, red cups waving around in loose hands. half-empty bottles sat abandoned near the sink, and someone had already knocked a drink over near the fridge, beer slowly dripping off the edge of the counter and onto the floor. laughter kept bursting out from different corners of the room, loud and messy.

down the hallway a door slammed and a group of guys yelled something that got swallowed by the music.

near the living room wall, a couple was tangled together, making out like the rest of the house didn’t exist. someone stumbled into the kitchen a second later, bumping into another person and sending beer sloshing across the floor again.

the whole place felt warm and restless, like the night had gotten out of hand hours ago and nobody had any interest in slowing it down.

off to the side of the kitchen, leaning back against the counter like he’d carved out the only quiet pocket left in the room, was don.

don looked like he’d been there for a while.

one elbow rested behind him on the counter while a beer bottle hung loose in his other hand, the label half peeled where he’d been picking at it without thinking. someone must’ve bumped into him earlier because the front of his shirt was dark where beer had splashed and dried there, the fabric sticking slightly in the heat of the house.

his hair was a little messy, pushed back like he’d run his hand through it too many times. his eyes drifted over the room slowly, watching people shove past each other, cups spilling, voices rising over the music.

every once in a while someone brushed into his shoulder trying to get to the fridge, but he barely reacted. just shifted his weight and took another absent sip from the bottle.

then his gaze landed on you.

not obvious, not loud. just steady, like something about you had caught his attention in the middle of all the noise.

someone shouted when a song changed. a cup hit the floor somewhere behind him with a wet splash.

after a moment don pushed himself off the counter, setting the bottle down near the sink with a quiet clink before working his way through the crowd. he moved slower than everyone else, slipping between people and brushing past shoulders until he reached where you were standing.

the noise felt even louder here, music thudding through the walls, voices overlapping, people squeezing past on their way in and out of the kitchen.

don stopped beside you instead of right in front of you, glancing briefly toward the living room where the worst of the chaos was happening. someone laughed too loud, another drink tipping over onto the floor.

he shook his head a little under his breath, like none of it surprised him.

then he looked back at you.

his expression softened just slightly, something quieter settling there.

“hey,” he said, leaning his shoulder back against the counter beside you.

his eyes flicked over your face for a second before drifting back toward the crowd.

“you here with somebody?” he asked after a moment, voice low enough it barely carried past the music.