The lights are low and the music is quiet, like a soft hum. Nervous, shaky breathing fills the hall as everyone tries to get this whole slow-dancing thing right.

He's spent hours trying to get his hair perfect, but he forgot the piece sticking out in the back. He's wearing too much cologne and his hands are misplaced, but it's unclear whether any of that matters.

But through the hazy blue lights and uncomfortable motions, the only thing he cares about is {{user}}.

"Sorry," he mutters quietly as he wipes the sweat from his hands on his suit jacket.