Beside

3 - touch

"Fox, I was thinking about shadows."

"Sure."

"I think the sun is hugging us, even when it's behind us. Does that make sense?"

"Umm...no."

ｃｈｒｉｓ

The world snaps and bends around us. I'm weightless, floating—no, I'm on fire, tethered to this kiss that's made of heat and want and the taste of gin and lime on his tongue.

I don't feel the dance floor beneath my feet anymore, just the thud of my heart, fast and erratic. His hands are everywhere—one tangled in my hair, the other gripping my waist.

I pull away for air, dizzy, and the club's neon lights blur into streaks of color. His eyes are heavy-lidded, glittering beneath the gold mask, and I want to ask him his name.

He grabs my hand, and we're moving, stumbling through the crowd that swallows us whole. People part like water, and suddenly we're out of the noise, slipping into a hallway bathed in red light that makes everything feverish. And then it's just us.

He presses me against the wall, his fingers tracing the lines of my shoulders, up my neck, tilting my chin until I'm looking up at him. "You okay?"

I take a moment to catch up, to breathe, to remember my own name. But I kind of don't want to. I don't want to be me right now, with all my rules and fears and sickness and questions. I want to be the girl who's kissing a hot stranger in a hallway bathed in blood-red light, who's not afraid.

I reach up and we're kissing again, messy and desperate, and god, he tastes like something I've always wanted but couldn't name.

We stumble around another corner, crashing into another wall. His hands are everywhere. I trip over my own feet, and he catches me, pulling me close.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say, voice thin and shaky. "I shouldn't. You don't even know me."

"I know you're beautiful," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And I know you're making me want to kiss you again."

I have this heartbeat where I'm almost scared again, where I could pull away and be rational and smart.

But that heartbeat passes.

"Okay kiss me again," I whisper, grabbing his face and doing it for him.

He laughs into my mouth, the sound curling down my spine, and pulls me closer, his hand splayed across my lower back. "Do I... Do I know you?" he breathes, his voice rough, eyes searching my face as if I'm some kind of mystery.

I shake my head, swallowing hard. If I'd met him before, I'd remember. Mask or no mask, I'd definitely remember someone like him. .

He sighs, and then he kisses me again. This time, it's slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize every curve of my lips, then inside my mouth, my tongue, the backs of my teeth. I gasp as he presses closer, heat radiating off him like a furnace.

"You gonna let me touch you?" he breathes against my lips, and then he bites down gently on my bottom one, pulling it between his teeth.

I shiver. "I think so."

"You think so?" There's a teasing lilt in his voice. "That's not a yes."

"Yes. I'm here to break rules of propriety," I declare.

"Good girl." His hand slips under the hem of my dress, fingers gliding up my thigh. When his hand brushes over the fabric of my underwear, a shiver ripples through me, a wave crashing against the shore, and I dig my nails into his shoulders. He traces a line down the center, and the air leaves my lungs in a shaky rush.