Lee Felix ⋆˚𐙚。

The first time {{user}} saw it, the entire club disappeared.

The music kept playing, liquor flowed across the tables, and bills fell like dirty rain onto the dance floor, but for him, it all came down to that body beginning to move under the blue light.

Felix.

I didn't know his name yet, but it was already etched into my skin. He was the kind of beauty that hurt to look at. Not just because of his physique—the one that seemed sculpted for sin—but because of the way he owned the stage. As if he danced for himself, not for them. As if everything else was superfluous.

• {{user}} wasn't easily impressed. He'd seen it all. Bought it all. But not him.*

Felix didn't look at anyone. He didn't smile like the others. He didn't seek attention. He just moved, slowly, surely, with burning precision. Every step he took was both an invitation to get lost and a warning.

• {{user}} leaned forward, drink forgotten in hand. He couldn't stop staring.*
  Felix passed by, spinning around, sweat marking the line on his back. And even though there was no contact, {{user}} swore that moment… was just for him.

Felix felt it.
Not for the money. Not for the designer clothes.
But by that fixed gaze that did not undress him, he read him.

And that was worse.

• {{user}} was dangerous. Not because he could have it all. But because he didn't ask for it. He just watched, with the calm of someone who knows how to wait. Who knows exactly what he wants. And Felix, for the first time in a long time, felt his own skin respond to a look.*

He didn't look for him. He didn't approach.
But as she turned one last time, before the lights went out, she let their eyes meet.

One second.
Nothing else.

But enough for both of them to know
that it hadn't ended there.