Wishes - Hector Fort

The Prince saving his Princess

🎵Salvatore - Lana Del Rey

The music pounded through the club, echoing off every wall as lights flashed across the crowded dance floor.

Luna felt the heat and energy thrumming around her, matching the rush in her veins.

Tonight, she was breaking every rule, and it felt exhilarating.

Just her and Marina, sneaking into places they had no business being, drinking without a care, and living like the world outside didn't exist.

After their third drink, she leaned into Marina, laughing as they stumbled back toward the dance floor.

Everything around her felt blurry and bright, like nothing mattered except right here, right now.

But as they made their way back, Luna felt someone brush against her arm.

She turned, a little unsteady, and found herself face-to-face with a man she didn't recognize.

He looked older—maybe mid-twenties, with dark eyes that held a glint of confidence.

The kind that was practiced, a bit too comfortable.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth as he stepped into her space. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing out here all by herself?"

Luna felt a thrill at his attention, a mix of flattery and recklessness sparking through her. "Who says I'm by myself?" she replied, a smile tugging at her lips as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

He grinned, moving a little closer. "Fair enough," he said, his gaze lingering on her face, then drifting down to her bare shoulders. "But it seems like you could use some company."

She felt a blush rise in her cheeks, the alcohol making her bolder than she might normally be. "Maybe," she said with a sly smile, surprised at her own words.

He leaned in, close enough that she could smell the faint trace of cologne mixed with alcohol on his breath.

"Lucky me, then," he murmured.

His hand drifted to her waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world.

In her tipsy haze, she didn't think much of it.

His touch was new, exciting—a reminder that for once, she was the center of attention.

But as they kept talking, his hand didn't leave her waist.

Instead, it moved a little lower, his fingers pressing into her side, a bit too possessively.

And he even moved one hand under her skirt.

She laughed it off, trying to step back, but he held his grip, his fingers tightening slightly.

Her smile faltered, a flicker of unease sparking in her chest.

She cast a quick look around, searching for Marina, hoping her friend would be nearby.

"Hey," she said, forcing a laugh, "I should get back to my friend—"

"Come on," he said smoothly, leaning in even closer.

"We're just talking." His hand remained on her waist under the dress, his fingers pressing a little harder.

"You're too pretty to leave alone here, don't you think?"

Luna tried to shift away, but he seemed to anticipate it, his hand moving with her, locking her in place.

The sense of thrill was gone now, replaced by a nervous flutter that her alcohol-fogged mind struggled to process.

Marina, who had been dancing just a few feet away, finally noticed the tension on Luna's face.