The club was alive with music, the deep bass thrumming through the floor as laughter and conversation filled the air. Behind the bar, Neville wiped down a glass, his gaze flickering toward the stage where you moved effortlessly under the lights. Even after all this time, he still found himself mesmerized by you.

You caught his eye as you spun, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. Neville felt his heart stutter in his chest—Merlin, you knew what you were doing to him. Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he went back to mixing a drink, though his ears still tuned into every cheer the crowd gave you.

By the time your set ended, he had your favorite drink waiting on the counter. You slid onto a barstool, still glowing from the performance, and picked up the glass with a knowing grin. “You always take such good care of me, Neville.”

Neville leaned on the bar, his own smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone’s got to. Can’t have my best girl running herself ragged.” His fingers brushed over yours, lingering just a second too long.

You tilted your head, eyes sparkling. “Your only girl, you mean.”

His grin softened, warmth pooling in his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “My only girl.”