Playing With Fire || d.h

45. Seth Foster and a Stalker

A/N: Yes Seth Foster is a completely made up person, but it's fineeee :)

Your POV

Dan leads me to the dance floor, filled with elegant and expensive-looking people, and I think to myself that one of their arms is probably worth more than me. I really need to work on comparing myself to people based on their economic status.

The live band is playing a rather slow song, and after glancing around at how other people are dancing, Dan wraps his arms around my waist as I wrap mine around his neck. We basically sway together while spinning in a circle, but considering neither of us have stepped on the other's foot in the last five minutes, I think we're doing pretty okay.

Eventually we change our position, so we're basically pressed together, and I'm looking up into his eyes. How the hell are they sparkling with barely any light in the room? I can't tell if the darkness surrounding his eyes is due to lack of sleep or is just natural. I can't help but realize how perfect he is. Not just physically, but also his character. He has a dark sense of humor, but it still relates to how the world is going, expressing his intelligence while being entertaining at the same time. He's beyond smart; he has more wisdom than anyone I've met. He understands the seriousness of situations, but can still make a joke to lighten the mood if needed. He's legitimately perfect.

I have to turn my head straight up, and his is straight down for us to keep our eyes locked. I feel a cramp forming in my neck, but I'm able to tuck it in the back of my mind. He looks at me as if I'm a piece of art. As if he could stare at me for eternity, and still never fully comprehend me. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful for the first time in my life.

He glances at my lips, making me glance at his, and for a split second, I'm expecting him to bend down and kiss me.

However, just because there always has to be something to ruin the moment, I feel a sudden tickle under my nose, and sneeze into Dan's chest. Not just a little sneeze, either, but one that basically deafens everyone in a five-meter radius from us.

Dan laughs hysterically, trying to stifle it the best he can. I keep my eyes on the ground in embarrassment, the top of my head pressed against his chest.

"Oh, my god, I'm an actually the most embarrassing person ever," I moan under my breath, laughing silently.

"Oh, shut up, that was literally the most adorable thing I've ever seen," he chuckles, causing heat to rush through me.

"Thanks," I mutter.

"Hey, uh," he whispers in a more serious tone, making me look back up into his face. "Really, thanks a lot of coming. I know this wasn't exactly your first choice of a way to spend the night, and I'm really appreciative that you went anyway."

"Oh, it's no problem, really," I reply. "I mean, I already knew as long as I got to spend the night with you, I'd still have a good time." He grins at me, and kisses me on the forehead.

"Um, Dan?" I suddenly hear Phil's 'help me' tone behind me.

Dan looks up and behind me. "Oh, Christ, what the bloody hell did you do?"

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my fault!" Phil exclaims. Dan and I part from each other and I turn to see Phil, covering my mouth as I accidentally let out a snort. His white undershirt is stained the yellow-orange color of crème brûlée, custard completely covering his front.

Dodie rolls her eyes next to him, holding an embroidered robin egg blue towel covered in whatever crème brûlée they must've been able to get off of him. However, I'm betting there's no way he'll be able to completely get out the stain. "Yeah, that waiter just appeared out of nowhere, didn't they?" She retorts sarcastically.