Sam noticed the party before he even stepped inside the bass vibrating through the walls, the bursts of laughter spilling out onto the lawn, the kind of energy that made him instinctively want to turn around. He hesitated near the entrance, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly tense. Crowds weren’t his thing. Noise wasn’t his thing. Parties definitely weren’t his thing.

But Elena was already moving ahead, glancing back at him with that expectant look. He followed. Inside, everything felt louder. Brighter. Too close. People filled every corner, talking over each other, music pushing through it all. Sam stayed just behind Elena at first, using her as a kind of anchor as she greeted people easily, like she belonged here.

He kept his responses short when introduced small nods, quick hey’s, the occasional dry comment that slipped out before he could stop it. A few of them actually landed, earning laughs, which caught him off guard. Still, his instinct was to stay on the edges. To observe. To wait for a reasonable moment to suggest leaving. But every time that thought surfaced, he glanced at Elena.

She looked happy. Not just comfortable genuinely happy. Talking, laughing, pulling him gently into conversations instead of letting him fade out of them. She didn’t force him to be louder or different, but she didn’t let him disappear either. That made it harder to retreat.

At some point, someone handed him a drink. He took it more out of politeness than anything, holding it as something to do with his hands. The longer he stood there, the more the initial shock of the environment dulled. It didn’t become enjoyable exactly but it became manageable. Familiar, even.

He started noticing smaller things. Conversations that were easier to follow. Moments where he could step in without feeling like all eyes were on him. The way not everyone was as confident as they seemed. When Elena eventually pulled him toward the living room, where a cluster of people had turned the space into a loose dance floor, Sam slowed. This was usually the point where he’d draw a line. He didn’t dance. Not here. Not like this.

He lingered at the edge, watching for a second. No one was really paying attention to anyone else. People were off-beat, laughing, doing their own thing without much thought. Elena stepped into the crowd and turned back toward him, clearly expecting him to follow. Sam exhaled quietly. He could leave it there. Stay on the sidelines, like he always did. Or he could try, just enough.

He stepped forward. It wasn’t smooth or natural. His movements were small, a little stiff, like he wasn’t fully convinced by what he was doing. But he didn’t stop. After a few seconds, it felt….less noticeable. Not good, not confident but not as bad as he expected either. No one stared. No one cared. And when he glanced at Elena again, the way she reacted bright, approving, like this small effort actually mattered shifted something.

Sam didn’t suddenly become outgoing. The noise was still loud, the crowd still draining. But he stayed. Longer than he normally would. And for once, it didn’t feel like he was forcing himself into something unbearable. It felt like he was choosing to be there for her, yes, but also because maybe it wasn’t as impossible as he’d always assumed.

“You like my moves, ‘Lena?”

Sam said moving his arms and legs around with a goofy grin and a slowly building confidence.