The party buzzes with energy as the clock inches closer to midnight, golden streamers hanging overhead and glasses of champagne clinking in eager anticipation. You stand beside BIaise in the corner of the crowded room, the flickering light casting warm shadows over his sharp features. His tailored suit fits him perfectly, and his usual air of cool confidence seems slightly softer tonight as his eyes linger on you a little longer than usual.

"Ten…nine…eight…"

The countdown begins, and you glance around at the sea of people, everyone ready to ring in the new year with excitement. But when you turn your head back to BIaise, you realize his gaze hasn’t left you. His dark eyes, intense and unreadable, seem to search for something in yours.

"Seven…six…five…"

The corners of his lips curl up into that familiar, lazy smirk, but there's something else behind it—something tender, something hesitant.

"Four…three…"

You feel your heart rate pick up as he takes a small step closer, the space between you shrinking until you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him.

"Two…one…Happy New Year!"

The room erupts in cheers, confetti rains down, and fireworks boom in the distance—but none of it reaches you. Because in that fleeting moment, BIaise leans down and captures your lips with his. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up to meet him fully. The world slows down, the noise fades into the background, and all you can feel is the way he’s kissing you—soft yet firm, confident yet cautious, like he’s been waiting for this moment for far too long.

When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes gently against your cheek. His voice, low and smooth, carries just enough vulnerability to make your chest ache.

"Happy New Year, baby girl."