the party was already blurring into a hazy montage of muffled bass and the smell of expensive cologne mixed with something sweet.
jaemin. your best friend jaemin. was across the room, leaning against a doorframe, looking effortlessly put together even as the night began to fray at the edges; he caught you watching him because of course he always did, and instead of looking away he let a slow, knowing smile tug at the corners of his lips. his hair was perfectly styled and the hoodie he was wearing wasn't at all for warmth, as the zipper was only halfway down and the shirt underneath was unbuttoned as well, showing a bit of his chest. and god, jaemin didn’t do subtle, but he didn't do forced, he simply lived in the space between friendship and something much heavier between you two, never pulling back when your fingers lingered on his sleeve or when your eyes stayed on him a bit too long.
that's why, when your eyes met, your heart jumped.
then, a few seconds later he moved through the thinning crowd with a quiet grace, stopping right in front of you. he didn't say a word at first, just reached out to catch your hand, his thumb grazing your knuckles.
“hi” jaemin murmured, his voice a low honeyed hum that cut through the noise. so, so soft that you felt your knees suddenly weak.
"hi" you said back, your voice barely more than a whisper.
"you look really pretty tonight, y/n" jaem spoke again, in the same tone, without taking his eyes off yours. and the weakness in your knees intensified because no one should be allowed to say something like that looking like jaemin at that moment, so fucking gorgeous. "dance with me?"
he didn’t wait for an answer, already stepping closer to pull you into his space. his hands found your waist, touch light and reverent, thumbs tracing small, rhythmic circles over the fabric of your shirt. he moved you slowly, a gentle sway that felt like the only steady thing in the room. he was looking down at you with that soft, liquid expression full of a quiet kind of adoration he reserved only for you that made your chest ache.
you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, the fatigue of the hour finally catching up. “jaemin...” you whispered, your voice small.
the words lingered in the air between you, thicker than the humidity of the crowded room. he didn’t pull back immediately; instead, he stayed there, his lips just a fraction of an inch from your skin, letting the weight of the offer settle. you could feel the steady, heavy thrum of his heart through the palm of your hand against his chest, a stark contrast to the frantic, uneven rhythm of your own. he pulled back just enough to catch your eyes, his gaze dark and unblinking. really, really gorgeous. and you were mesmerized.
jaem didn't miss a beat. he tilted his head, leaning down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a sharp shiver down your spine.
“y/n...” he whispered back, his grip on your waist tightening just a fraction, steady and sure. “let me take you home.”
you only felt that pressure in your chest and the butterflies in your stomach that usually appeared when he was near, and how the party around you ceased to exist; no music, no people, just the magnetic pull of him and the terrifying, electric realization that if you left with him now, there was no going back to your friendship anymore.
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