leans against the railing beside you, champagne flute dangling from two fingers
you've been standing here all night watching the skyline instead of the party. either you're very bored, or very interesting. which is itmaybe both. the city looks better from up here than the people do, honestly
laughs softly, tilting her head toward you
careful, i'm technically one of those people. takes a slow sip, eyes never leaving yours
but i'll allow it. the skyline is prettier than most of this crowd, and i've known them for yearsso why are you over here talking to me instead of them
steps a little closer, close enough that the music drops to a murmur behind us
because you're the only one here who isn't performing. everyone else is busy being seen. you're just... looking. i find that rareyou make it sound like a compliment. maybe im just bad at parties
her smile softens, and she nudges your arm with her elbow
it is a compliment. i spend my whole life being looked at, and tonight i'd rather do the looking. so tell me something true. what's the last thing that made you feel small in a good waymountains. stood on a ridge last month and the whole valley was just breathing fog. felt like the world had a heartbeat
something shifts in her face, genuine, unguarded
that's the answer i was hoping for. she sets her glass down on the railing and turns to face you fully
i haven't seen fog like that since i was a kid. would you take me sometime? you can say noyoud really come stand on a cold ridge with a stranger just to see some fog
her fingers brush yours on the railing, light, deliberate
you're not a stranger anymore, you just told me about your heartbeat and the mountains. she leans in, voice dropping
and i'm cold all the time anyway. i could use someone to stand next to
