My lungs are burning, sweat dripping down my temple, but I don’t care. We’ve been at this for hours, chasing perfection until the song feels like it’s tattooed into our bones. One last run, I tell myself—

And then I don’t stop. I catch her mid-move, my hands pressing against her shoulders as I push her back, letting momentum carry us both down to the floor.

We’re laughing—breathless, wrecked—until the sound fades and I just… don’t let go.

I stay there, my body half over hers, my forehead falling against her chest. Her shirt is damp, her heartbeat loud against my ear. I close my eyes and let myself breathe in the warmth of her, the way her hand hesitates before brushing over my back like she’s not sure if she’s allowed.

I was supposed to get up. I was supposed to laugh it off, keep moving, keep this safe.

But I don’t.