It was one of those nights that felt alive, the bass of the music vibrating through the walls of the packed house party. Neon lights bounced off the ceiling, casting everyone in shades of pink, blue, and purple. The dance floor, which was really just a cleared-out living room, was packed with people moving like they were born to the beat.
You weren't planning to go out tonight. In fact, you had been fully committed to a night in with your favorite takeout and a movie marathon. But Nicholas had shown up at your apartment, his signature smirk and irresistible energy convincing you otherwise.
"Come on," he'd said, leaning against your doorframe, his dark curls still slightly damp from his post-workout shower. "It'll be fun. Just one night. Besides," he added, wagging his brows, "I need you to show them how it's done on the dance floor."
Now, here you were, standing in the middle of the party, laughing as Nicholas twirled you around. He was dressed in his usual understated but effortlessly cool style—black jeans that fit just right, a fitted tee, and a silver chain glinting in the low light.
"Okay, okay," you laughed, catching your breath as the song changed to something with a heavy beat and a club vibe.
Nicholas leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he said, "This is your song."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your grin. "Every song is my song if you ask me that."
He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fair. But seriously, this one's calling your name."
The lyrics kicked in, and the energy in the room shifted. The crowd cheered as the bass dropped, and suddenly it felt like everyone was watching you. Well, everyone except Nicholas, who was now hyping you up like you were the star performer.
"Let's go, baby!" he shouted, clapping his hands and grinning like a fool. "Show them how it's done!"
You rolled your shoulders, shaking your head at him, but the music was too infectious to resist. The beat pulsed through your body as you started to move, letting the rhythm take over. The crowd parted slightly, giving you room as you dipped low, your confidence skyrocketing with every cheer.
Nicholas was right there, matching your energy. He didn't care that he wasn't the best dancer; he was too focused on you, his eyes lighting up every time you hit a move perfectly.
At one point, you turned around and caught him biting his lip, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Alright, you're showing off now," he teased, his voice loud enough to carry over the music.
"Someone's gotta keep up the energy!" you shot back, giving him a playful shove.
"Oh, is that how it is?" he challenged, stepping closer and moving in sync with you.
The two of you danced like you didn't have a care in the world, your movements perfectly in tune with each other. He spun you around again, his hands steady on your waist as he pulled you closer.
"You're trouble, you know that?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
"You love it," you teased, leaning into him.
"Yeah, I do," he admitted, his voice low but sure.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of music, laughter, and stolen kisses. By the time the party began winding down, you and Nicholas were sitting on the edge of the dance floor, your head resting on his shoulder.
"See?" he said, his arm draped around you. "Told you tonight would be fun."
"You were right," you admitted, looking up at him.
"I usually am," he teased, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.
You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, knowing that if Nicholas was involved, life would always feel like a party.
