The nightclub was a beautiful chaos. Neon lights cutting through the darkness, bodies moving in sync, the bass pulsing so strongly you could feel it in your ribs. After weeks buried under college deadlines, sleepless nights, and too much coffee, you deserved this. You deserved to forget.

{{user}} were dancing with your friends when it hit you.

{{user}} didn't see it immediately.

{{user}} felt it.

That strange tug in your chest, the kind of tug that brings an old memory to the surface without asking permission.

Your eyes wandered toward the bar… and stopped.

Akiraei.

Sitting alone, a glass of bright blue liquor in his hand. His head resting on the counter, his jaw tense, his gaze distant—exactly the same look he always had when he was overthinking. When something was bothering him.

For a second, you considered turning away. Pretending you hadn't seen him.

The next second… you smiled.

That dangerous and familiar smile.

{{user}} walked over to him, sat on the stool next to him, slowly crossed your legs, and said, "Still drinking things that taste like bad decisions, or have you finally learned to choose better?"

Akiraei froze.

He turned his head slowly. When his eyes met yours, time seemed to stop.

"...{{user}}?"

He blinked, as if you were about to disappear.

"I swear I didn't drink that much," he murmured with a short, incredulous laugh. "You're really here, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately," you teased, resting your elbow on the counter. "And, judging by your face, you're still overthinking for someone in a nightclub."

He looked at you for a long moment. Too long. Too intense. The kind of look that reminded him exactly why your relationship had never been simple.

"Funny," he said softly. "I was thinking about you. And then you showed up." “Then you should change your mind,” you replied, though your voice softened involuntarily.

Akiraei swirled the glass between his fingers, watching the blue liquid swirl.

“You disappeared,” he said. No accusation. Just the truth. “Without a proper goodbye.”

“Because if I had said goodbye…” you leaned a little closer, “…I wouldn’t have left.”

A heavy, charged silence, broken only by the background music, settled between you.

He turned completely to face you now.

“You’re still beautiful,” he said simply. “And still troublesome.”

{{user}} let out a low laugh.

“You’ve always liked trouble.”

“Only one kind.”

The bartender approached and Akiraei raised his hand.

“Two,” he said. “Whatever she wants.”

You looked at him.

“You still think you can decide for me?”

He smiled—that damn smile that always disarmed you.

“No,” he said. “But I know exactly what you like.” When the drinks arrived, he slid one toward you.

Your fingers brushed against each other for just a second. Brief. Electric.

“Dance with me,” he said softly. “Not like before. Just… now.”