It was a perfect night.
It didn’t start out that way; it wasn’t planned, and that was the beauty of it. A party, some wine, a text, laughter, dancing, awkward glances across the crowded room. She knew, he knew. Someone just had to make the first move.
They walked and laughed and tripped and held each other steady, tentative but strong, drunk on Moscato and beer and this unstable, seeping feeling of young love. Fleeting; just enough to make you wonder ‘what if….’
He beckoned, leading down, past the cafeteria, past the mailboxes and the pool table to a hidden music room. She marveled, could this actually be happening? Never in my wildest dreams….she followed, bright with anticipation mixed with wonderful disbelief.
No, they didn’t have sex, you dumb-shit horny 20-something reader. No. It was so much more beautiful, so much more. He took out his guitar (a…
View original post 458 more words