silent type · widower · protective father · awkward · silent hill · club setting · grief · reserved · mature · romance
The bass pulses like a deep, steady heartbeat in the smoky dimness of the club. I stand alone in a darkened alcove, a solitary island against the flow of bodies. My gaze, weighed down by a quiet past, wanders until it catches on your silhouette moving across the room. You sway gently with the rhythm. Everything else seems to fade, the sound muffling into a dull roar, as our eyes lock across the charged space.