The Odd Friend

Chapter 1: Firebird

It was late at night, and you were still working. You were exhausted. How on earth did the intern mess up the order? It was pretty simple, he only needed to fill in the form and send it to production. That was it! For the love of god. Now, you were making phone calls every two seconds, trying to find someone who would print the 100 books you needed for the book presentation next week, not to mention the fact that it would cost extra due to the urgency. Your phone rang. 

“Hello?”

“Hey there, (Y/N), it’s me,” greeted the woman on the other side of the line. 

“Robin! Please, please tell me you have good news.” Robin was your best friend and a colleague. Unlike you, she worked for a bigger publishing house. Out of desperation, you had called her to see if any of their suppliers would take the order—an unlikely idea, given that she worked with larger prints. 

“You were born under a lucky star, girl. Send the book to GLine Printing Press first thing in the morning. Since we, ourselves, are running four smaller prints, they’d agree to add yours for the same price.”

“Thank you! You saved my life! I love you so much!” I said with the most profound relief. Robin just chuckled softly. “Will I see you at the presentation?”

“Sure, wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Great, and thank you again. You are my lifesaver.”

“Any time. See ya,” said Robin, hanging up. 

You could finally breathe a little. You looked at the schedule you were working on, glad you wouldn’t need to switch book presentations. Having your own publishing house was so demanding. ‘Oh, but you wanted to try and be a big shot editor, didn’t you?’ you thought. You loved books more than anything in the world. Ever since you could remember, your grandfather, Clover, read to you. He was the librarian of one of the biggest libraries in the city. There, you met Robin, the daughter of Olivia, Clover's assistant. You two grew up almost like sisters, always with your noses buried in a different book every week. Now, you were working your ass off trying to sustain your small business. You were living your dream of being an editor, chasing books, working with whom and how you wanted, even though the stress of this would probably kill you before you actually became a big shot editor.  You let out a heavy sigh while rubbing your eyes. ‘Better get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another day.’ You yawned and turned off the computer. 

The next day, you woke up early. You didn’t even take off your pyjamas before turning on your computer and sending the emails you needed to get the book to the press. ‘Done. One less task to worry about.’ You lay in bed for some minutes, mustering the strength to begin your routine. You were not an early bird… nor what people would call a night owl. You always thought of yourself as a bear. If you could stay in bed all day, you would. You grabbed your phone and began to scroll on IG. The views on the posts for the next three book presentations had gotten a fair share of views, although the most popular one was the one from next week. ‘Thank god Deuce is good-looking,” you thought. Unlike female authors who dominated romance literature, male authors were harder to sell fiction stories. It was a plus for a new author if he looked good on the posts. Gotta give it to Deuce. He had the right combination of a nice gentleman with shyness and a touch of mystery over his identity. Not using his real name was smart. You continued on your phone when a text from Robin popped up on your screen.

 ‘Get out of bed or you’ll waste the morning away,’ she texted. ‘Love you.’ She knew you so well.  You jumped out of bed and went to change into your running clothes. You hated exercising… except for running. It was the only time of the day when you could have a few moments for yourself and your thoughts. It helps you think, deal with stress and keep yourself healthy, all in one. You grabbed your phone to look for music. ‘Let’s see… What's the mood today?’ You scrolled and then hit on KONGOS. You stretched a little bit and hit the road. 

‘Damn! It’s late. I ran a little too much!’ You jumped into the shower and barely rubbed soap on yourself; you didn’t even wash your hair. You grabbed a pair of jeans, a blouse and a sweater. Did a 5 min make up, which, truth be told, every day you did a 5 min make up since you couldn’t be bothered with something flashier, and were ready in a personal record of 20 min. You grabbed your earrings, your laptop, your bag and ran out of the nice cosy apartment you rent some 20 min away from the beach, and an amazing 20 min away from the small coworking you use as your office. 

“Morning, girl!” greeted Nami, a pretty redhead about your age. 

“Morning, Nami. Everyone ready for the meeting?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

We walked into the small room to join everyone. Your team was small. First, there was Nami. She was in charge of marketing and social media. She was brilliant at creating events, posts, and being a communication liaison. Then there was Usopp, a designer. He worked on both social media and the design of the books. He was truly creative, able to see the heart of stories and translate them into an image. They were both your age, eager enthusiasts with valuable working experience and a desire to get as far as possible from big companies. Then, there was Bege. A scary man who always reminded you of the Godfather. He was a genius when it came to finances and legal stuff. How did you manage to find a man like him who could cover two areas for half the salary he could get anywhere else? You had no idea, but you were grateful for it. Next was Franky, who was in charge of production and logistics. He supervised the printing process and the distribution of the books. He also helped Usopp from time to time with the most technical aspects of the design of books, layouts and stuff. Finally, the two interns, Helmepo and Koby. They helped with everything else, documents, forms, proofreading, etc. For every bit of diligence and hard work Koby showed, Helmepo had a knack for being careless, like forgetting to check the production date on a form.

“OK! Good news, everyone.  I managed to find a printing press that can print the books on time for Deuce’s book presentation. Franky, Bege, I copied you on a couple of emails with the specifics. Bege, we will have to adjust the cost a little bit. I was thinking of absorbing the extra cost by charging a little bit more for the two romantic novels we have in the summer. The authors are already known, so we can stretch the cost a tiny bit. Nami, maybe we might have to reduce the cost of those events. Keep that in mind till Bege runs the numbers.” I looked at both, and they nodded in understanding.

“Franky, I’m gonna need you to contact the printing press and see if today afternoon or tomorrow you can go check the prints. When can you deliver the books to the bookshop?”

“If the printing goes smoothly, I’ll deliver them first thing next Monday, as scheduled,” he answered, chilling. 

“Suuuper,” you answered. He gave a barking laugh when you used his signature catch phrase. Everyone else smiled. “Now, with that out of the way. Anything else you need to report on your deliverables for this week?” 

Everyone said no. And with that, we wrapped up the meeting. 

…

The big day arrived. You were on the phone with Nami trying to decide which outfit to wear. Even though you were strictly talking her boss, you never thought of her as your employee but more as a friend and a true colleague. You knew you didn’t know shit about marketing and that stuff, so without her the books would probably wouldn’t sell and your little project would have went bankrupt way too fast. You couldn’t decide whether to wear a dress or something more serious like trousers. In the end, you went with the long, straight dress — simple, yes, but sharp in its own way. It hugged just enough to feel intentional, without trying too hard. High neck, sleeveless, crisp white. Clean lines, clean mind. 

Fifteen minutes of makeup: enough to even out the day, add a hint of confidence. A swipe of colour on your lips, a little shadow — nothing flashy. Your hair went up into a high, deliberately messy bun, the kind that looked accidental but took three tries to get right.

Then came the gold earrings — heavy, bold — and a few bracelets that clinked softly as you moved. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror and nodded. “Good. Comfortable. Professional. With a little edge.”

You grabbed your bag and took the metro towards the bookshop. It was at the city centre, some 40 minutes away. After the presentation, they were all planning to go celebrate at your favourite bar. Nothing like a good drink after some stressful weeks. 

You arrived five minutes late. Thank god Franky and Nami were already there with the owner of the bookshop. You couldn’t for the life of god be anywhere on time. That is something that Robin has always hated about you; that’s why she tended to keep track of your schedule by texting you. Also, your team knew about this bad habit of yours, so they knew better than to schedule meetings before 10 am or, when there was something important, they simply lied to you about the time and gave you a fake one, forcing you to be ‘earlier’. You greeted everyone and followed the owner to the terrace, where the presentation was bound to happen. You checked that everything was in order, the books, the banners, the microphones and the chairs. 

Some 20 minutes before the presentation, Deuce arrived. There was already a queue of his fans waiting to get hold of a copy of his book. “Hey Deuce,” you greeted him. “Nervous?” you asked. 

“A little, it’s not my first round, but this is a lot of people,” he said.

“Tell me about it. I also have to be on stage with you,” you chuckled. One of the things you definitely didn’t like about being an editor was presenting the book. As an editor, you were also the introductory face to the author. You might not be famous, but you had to speak to the crowd, sell the book. You hated it. You always tried to make Nami do these things, but she always refused, saying that the one who read the book and gave it its final form was you. It was a hell of a good point, but you still hated the selling part. 

“Well, anything else you need before the show?” you asked Deuce.

“Nothing, just a friend of mine will arrive soon, can we save him a seat on the front row?”

“Sure, let Nami know your friend’s name, so she can reserve the spot along with the rest of the team.” You always made sure that your team accompanied you to the presentations, especially Nami. Sometimes Bege or the interns missed them, but Nami was a must. This time, the whole team was here. 

“Well, if there’s nothing else, let’s start the show.”

…

Ace was late. Deuce had told him to be at 8:00, but it was already 8:05, and he was still 10 minutes away from the bookshop. Deuce was going to kill him. He even texted him that he already had a reserved spot in the front row. He ran for dear life, trying to turn those 10 extra minutes into 5. He was going so fast that he almost missed the bookshop. He went in, and the presentation had already begun. He stayed at the back, looking for a moment in which to reach the front more subtly. 

A pretty good-looking girl was talking about the book. She had a nice, sweet voice and a confident posture, as if she owned the world. She talked for a few minutes, and then she asked the public for a round of applause for Deuce. Ace used that moment to make his way into the front row. When he found his seat, he gave Duece the thumbs up and a huge smile. 

His friend was brilliant. He talked about his book with such passion. The girl was looking at him, proud, and from time to time she laughed and made some comment on the book. The audience was in awe. So was he; the way his friend talked about the book made him want to read it; he decided that he needed to buy his friend’s book. Deuce and the girl continued chatting about the book and then passed into the round of questions. The girl stood up with a microphone in hand and made her way to some of the fans who had questions. He couldn’t help but notice her elegant figure, perfectly framed in the dress she was wearing. There were a few more questions, and then she made her way back to where Deuce was to wrap up the presentation. Both thanked the public for assisting and purchasing the signed copies of the first edition. Everyone clapped, and the girl and Deuce went down the little stage. 

“Hey man! You were brilliant!” Ace approached Deuce to congratulate him. 

“Thanks! You made it,” he said, beaming.  

“Yeah,” Ace chuckled, toying with the back of his hair in a sign of embarrassment. “I hope I didn’t miss much.” 

“Not much, just my editor giving a brief welcome to the public and a little bit of promotion of the book,” said Deuce, brushing it off. 

‘Ah! So the pretty girl was his editor,’ Ace made a small note to himself. And, speaking of the devil, you approached them. 

“Hey, Deuce, what are you doing after? We would like you to join us at a small celebration for such a successful presentation,” she said. “Your friend can come as well.”

“Ace, (Y/N), (Y/N), Ace,” Deuce introduced them. Ace extended his hand and smiled at you. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and smiling. They locked eyes for a second. Was it him, or did you look at him with mischief in your eyes? The moment passed, and you let go of his hand first. 

“I have no particular plans. What do you say, Ace? Should we join them?” Deuce asked, giving Ace a little nudge.

“Sure, let’s celebrate,” Ace said, looking at you with a mischievous grin. Your eyebrow raised subtly, almost an imperceptible movement, without letting you smile fade. 

You turned to Deuce and exclaimed. “Excellent. Let’s go then. We already have a reservation.”

…

Damn, Deuce’s friend was handsome. Tall, black hair, playful dark eyes, and a delightful smile. He made you slightly nervous. He was clearly the flirty type. But if there was something life has taught you, it was how to deal with flirty guys. You just needed to ignore them and drop a comment or two every once in a while to make chitchat, maybe with a smile. Anyway, tonight you were so tired that you truly didn’t care if he found you attractive. You planned to drink the stress away. Sometimes you questioned yourself whether editors weren’t prone to develop alcoholism. You didn’t know a single editor, or anyone involved in the business for that matter,  who wasn’t a heavy drinker. You all made your way to your usual bar. Your team crammed into Bege’s car, while Robin, Deuce, Ace, and you took a taxi. 

During the ride, you chatted mostly about the presentation, you asked both Robin and Ace their thoughts on it and stuff like that. All through the 15-minute ride, you could see from the corner of your eye that Ace was stealing glances your way. The taxi parked just in front of ‘The Red Force’, a nice beach bar that had some of the best fries and beers. Ever since you were able to afford the coworking two years ago, you and your team, especially Nami and Usopp, have made this bar your regular. Most Friday nights, once you had finished working, you hung out here. Sometimes Robin joined, or some of Nami’s friends or Usopp’s.

“Hey, Shanks!” you greeted the owner, who, by now, knew you pretty well.  It was still dinner time, so the bar was full of people chatting and eating. Later, around eleven, the bar would open the dance floor on the terrace and around midnight, a DJ or band would play. “Is there space on the terrace?” You loved the terrace, whether to eat or to dance. It had an amazing view of the bay. You could see the nightlights reflected on the sea. 

“Hey (Y/N). Sorry, but no. For such a large group, we accommodated you at one of the big booths in the corner,” he said apologetically.

You brush it off with a soft hand gesture. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” You turned to everyone and asked, “I’m going to get drinks. The usual?”

“What’s the usual?” asked Ace. 

You smiled playfully and teased him, “Do you trust me? Or would you rather have a soft drink?”

He huffed a laugh. “The usual it is. I’ll trust you.” You let yourself linger on his smile for a few seconds, and then turned to look at the rest. Everyone nodded. While everyone walked to their table, you made your way to the bar. 

“Hey, Law, easy night, or why are you all by yourself?” You asked the tattooed guy at the bar. 

“Hey there, kitten,” he replied in that low, smooth voice of his. You smiled at the pet name. Things between you two had cooled off, but he still liked to toss those names around. You didn’t mind — if anything, it made things feel less awkward. “Slow night, for now,” he added, setting a glass down. “Dinner crowd doesn’t order much beyond beer. Sanji’ll tag in later. What about you? Thinking of cheating on me with a cocktail shaker?”

You snorted. “Please. Like I’d ever leave you for something that sweet.” 

Law grinned. “The usual, then?” he asked. 

“You know me, ten of your best,” you said and winked playfully. 

“I’ll have them sent to your table, babe,” he said with a smirk, already turning to prep.

Back with everyone, you sat next to Nami and Robin, grabbed the menu and, looking through it, you asked. “What are you having, girls?”

“I think I’ll just order some mozzarella sticks. I’m not that hungry,” said Nami, letting the menu she had in her hands down. 

“I don’t think I’ll have anything either,” said Robin. 

“Hum…would you split some chilli fries with me? I want a burger, but I also want fries,” you were starving. You spent the afternoon doing so many last-minute things that you had forgotten to eat.

Robin smiled at you. You always wanted fries. She could swear you had an extra stomach just for fries. “Sure, let’s split them.”

“Great!” you said happily, putting the menu down. From the corner of your eye, you noticed that Deuce and Ace were still eying the menu. It was a very small one with just four burgers and some entrees. 

You leaned over the table a little and asked them. “How hungry are you?”

“Starving,” answered both at the same time. 

“Well, then, try the double bacon burger with truffle mayo. It’s delicious,” you recommended.

“I’ll have one then,” said Deuce.

“OK. Guess I’ll have to trust you again,” Ace added.  

You gave him a sly grin. “You won’t regret trusting me.” 

He chuckled. “I’ll be the judge of that.” For a fraction of a second, your eyes connected, and you could see the playfulness, the challenge.  You dropped your gaze, not before a quick smile of amusement crossed your face. Ace noticed it and he smiled to himself. He couldn’t believe how cocky you were. One second, you were chatting normally, even ignoring him slightly, and then you were smiling at him. Mischivousness written all over your face. ‘Two can play this game.’ Ace thought. 

In that moment, the drinks arrived. “Ten of the usual,” said Penguin, placing down the tray for everyone to grab a drink.

“Thanks,” you said softly to him, when everyone had a beer. 

 “Well, everyone. Cheers for the success of our book,” cheered Nami, raising her mug. 

“Cheers!” Everyone said and took a sip of the beer. 

A deep exhale of pleasure escaped you. “Just what I needed! So, isn’t it  good?” You asked Ace. 

“It is. Which beer is it?” he raised the bottle to read the label. 

“It’s a craft beer. It’s this place's speciality. You won’t find commercial beers here.”

“So, I take you are a beer drinker,” said Ace, raising his eyes from the bottle to look at you. 

You grinned heartily. “Yes, I am. Although I wouldn’t say no to a good wine. Depends on the food or the mood. What about you?”

“I drink whatever, I’m not picky,” answered Ace.

“Oh man! What a poor taste! “ you mocked him. 

“I’ll drink any kind of alcohol, but that doesn’t mean I drink cheap alcohol. I’ve got high standards,” he said, eying you subtly. 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Told you. You stick with me and you’ll find nothing but the best,” said, smirking. You turned to chat with Nami and Robin. You had given him enough attention for the moment. It didn’t take long till the food arrived. You wolfed down your burger and part of the fries. You didn’t even care about ladylike manners, nor did you notice that Ace took a brief moment to look at you eat, and a sweet smile appeared on his lips. He was having a hard time figuring you out. At moments, he thought that you were interested, flirting with him, but then you were so relaxed, dropping the act, entirely yourself. Not caring about him or looking for his attention, completely oblivious to his presence. 

The night continued with everyone chatting lively. Ace noticed that you tended to ask for beers directly from the barman. It was clear you knew each other, cause every time you went to him, you smiled and he looked at you as if he had seen you naked. He himself knew that look too well, since he had his fair share of girls to whom he had given that look. That piqued his interest. Was he an old boyfriend? You came back to the table with the third round of beers.

“(Y/N), you are aware that the company is just paying for the burgers and the first round, right?” Bege reminded you. He could see that you were planning a long drinking night. 

“Yes, yes. I know. Don’t worry, the rest of the drinks are coming out of everyone else's pockets,” you answered brushing off the matter. “Right, guys?” you asked, turning to look at Nami and Usopp, who were the owners of the other two beers you had ordered.

“Yeah, we know the drill. At this point, even Deuce knows the drill,” laughed Usopp. 

Deuced laughed as well. It was not the first celebratory party he had attended. You had told him once that he was one of the few authors with whom they drank so casually. The publishing house had all kinds of authors, from the ones with whom you shared a coffee to talk business more casually, to the ones they strictly worked with at the offices. 

“Well, everyone. I’m leaving. I’m guessing you are all staying?” said Bege. 

“I think we’re leaving too,” replied Koby. Nami turned and, playfully, started to mock the interns. “Oh, you need to be home early to sleep?”

Koby blushed and nervously said. “N-no. We have… another thing, a friend’s party.”

“So you'd rather be with your friends than hanging out here, with us?” dramatised Usopp.

Both interns looked sheepishly. You laughed. “Let them be. We are probably old boring people to them,” you said. 

“What? Speak for yourself, I’m young and beautiful,” said Nami, waving her hair as a dramatic statement. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. 

Bege and the interns moved out of their chairs,  and the three of them said goodbye. “I’ll pay for the dinner. M, do you want to leave the tab open?” asked Bege, before leaving. You turned to look at Nami and Usopp. The last time that had happened, your paychecks had come with considerably less money. They both shook their head no. 

“Close it, Bege. Tell Law to keep tabs on the extra beers, and the next round we pay each time we order a drink,” you said. He chuckled and nodded. 

“Open tab?” asked Ace, looking at you, once Bege and the interns had left.

You looked a little embarrassed at Deuce, “You shouldn’t know this, but the last time we came to celebrate, we charged everything on the company credit card, since everything was in the same tab… Well, you went early that night, but we didn’t. Long story short, Bege took the extra money out of our paychecks.” 

“Yeah…” intervened Usopp, “it wasn’t fun not making ends meet. That was a very tight month.”

“Definitely. I refuse to have tuna straight from the can for lunch again,” added Nami. 

The three shook their heads, remembering the entire week you survived on tuna cans till your next paycheck. 

“How much did you drink?” asked Ace, amused. 

“The life of an editor is stressful, Ace. Some people stress-eat. We stress-drink corporate funds,” you said, deadpan but with the ghost of a smirk.

Ace burst out laughing. What a gorgeous sound, you thought. You looked at him, grinning. “Anyway, we learned our lesson and prefer to pay beforehand. Easier to keep things under control and avoid nasty surprises.  So… what do you do for a living that you find our amount of stress so odd?” you asked him. 

He rubbed the back of his head and sighed, “I guess we could say I work in the music industry. I have a small recording studio.”

“Oh! So you work with famous bands?” asked Nami curiously.

Ace chuckled. “Not really. It’s more like independent artists, mixed with anyone who needs to record stuff.”

Deuce hoffed. “You are way too modest,” he mumbled. 

Ace just rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “Anyway, there are good months and bad months. When things look bleak, I give my brothers a hand with their business.”

“What do they do?” asked Robin.

“My brother Sabo owns a mechanic workshop, he specialises in motorcycles. And my brother Luffy does the marketing.”

“Luffy?” intervened Nami, “Any chance your brother Luffy used to work at Buggy’s Designs and Marketing Agency?

Ace looked startled. “Yes, do you know him?”

“I can’t believe it! You are his big brother! Yes. We used to work in that shitty place. I resigned before him and started to work with (Y/N). When he resigned, he told me he planned on working on the family business. He is a good friend. Nothing bonds people together like suffering in the same corporate hell,” Nami laughed. “We see each other, from time to time, with another coworker who also ran the second she found something else.”

“Oh, the world is a small place. He hated that place,” Ace added. 

“We all hated it. But guess that’s how you learn. Now, I know that the best place you can work is where your boss pays for your drinks,” she added, hugging you. 

“Boss? I thought the other guy was the boss,” said Ace, pointing with his thumb towards the door over his shoulder.

You looked a little embarrassed. “Strictly speaking, I’m the boss, since I own the business. But I just had the idea and the savings. The ones that manage to keep things working are the team. Especially Bege, who is a hell of an accountant.”

“Don’t be modest, girl,” said Robin, nudging you, “having a publishing house is not easy.”

“Oh, I know! And that’s why…,” you said, standing up, “we need another round!” Nami and Usopp cheered. 

The night and rounds continue to pass. Soon, the table broke into small groups. Robin and Franky were chatting, while Nami, Usopp and Deuce were at the bar asking for cocktails. You stayed at the table talking to Ace. You found that he was easy to talk to. You had thought that he was just a flirt, but it turned out that he was a pretty chill guy; he still was a flirt, but he was a flirt with charm and good talk. You found yourself telling him about your dream of being a successful editor, your love for books, and the fact that your favourite place will always be a bookshop. You felt so comfortable in his presence that you forgot you were supposed to flirt with him. 

Throughout the conversation, Ace kept thinking about how the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your passion made you look radiant. It was easy to listen to you. When you were done talking about books, it became Ace’s turn to talk a little about himself. You found out that he, apart from having his studio, was a songwriter who had lately managed to sell his songs to some popular artists. 

“Do I know the artists?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Maybe,” he replied modestly. 

“Do I know the songs?” you insisted.

“Maybe,” he repeated. 

“Oh, come on! I want to listen to one of your songs!” you exclaimed. 

“I don’t think of them as my songs. I write them, and the artists liked them, but then they made them theirs, with music arrangements and their vocals. I can’t say they’re mine anymore.”

You looked at him with a half grin. He was being modest. It didn’t suit him. “Fine. I’ll have Deuce tell me later.”

The energy in the place shifted almost imperceptibly at first. The soft hum of conversation quieted, and the ambient music faded into a low thrum. The lights dimmed and changed colour, casting a cooler glow over the room. Somewhere near the terrace, instruments stirred—guitars tuning, a mic checking. The band was about to play. You looked at Robin, immersed in her chat with Franky, and decided not to interrupt her. You turned to Ace and asked, “I’m heading to the terrace. You want to come? They’ve got a live band and the view is something else.”

“Sure,” he replied.

You both stood up. You let Robin know through gestures that you were going to the terrace.  Both Franky and her nodded, and you went. You made your way out and looked for a spot to listen comfortably to the band. There were no free tables, so you stayed by the fence to have a view of the sea while being close to the band. The band introduced itself as Milky Chance. They thanked the crowd for coming, and the first notes from their instruments swam across the space. You started to bop your head to the music. After a couple of songs, you became engulfed by the rhythm. You began dancing, closing your eyes, and letting the electricity in the music guide your movements. It was you and the music, the pulse in your chest, your body answering to it. The band transitioned from song to song smoothly, not breaking the rhythm. You opened your eyes, and you knew that Ace had been looking at you the entire time. You felt the heat from his gaze. He was mesmerised by how free you were, like a living flame –too wild to touch, too beautiful to turn away from, caught in the sway of your hips tugging at something inside him. You held his gaze, and then, you let a knowing smile curl on your lips. You kept on dancing, deliberately for him. He smirked, moving closer to you, and started to dance. He gravitated around you, letting the pull of your body guide his. You were just dancing with enough space for the tension to keep on building, drifting closer with every beat. 

You're like a firebird in the sky

Shining for a challenger in the night

Just like a firebird, is your heart

Keeps me warm and anchory in the stars

You're like a firebird

You're like a firebird

When the song ended, you were merely inches apart. You could smell him, his lotion mixed with the salt of his skin. It was warm and intoxicating. Your breath caught before you could stop it. His dark eyes were locked on yours, spellbound in the aftermath of the music. There was something raw in his gaze, like he was caught between the urge to touch you and knowing that if he did, he might get burned. You broke the stare with a soft smile. You stepped past him, your fingers grazing his as you moved. With a subtle brush, you took his hand, just enough to make him feel it. 

“I’m goin' home,” you said, glancing back over your shoulder, a lopsided grin curving your lips. “You coming?”