Sigma

The club glittered with soft lights and golden reflections that danced on the glass walls. Everything was arranged with a neat elegance, as if every detail had been carefully prepared. Sigma, standing in the center of the room, waited for you with barely flushed cheeks and a slight tremor in his gloved fingers. He was dressed in white with silver details, sober but charming, as if from another time... or another world.

You approached, and he offered you his hand with that unique blend of solemnity and awkwardness that only he could muster. His lips formed a fragile smile, and his voice was a caring whisper:

—Thanks for coming...

It wasn't his location that impressed you, nor the luxury of his surroundings: it was the way he looked at you. As if you were something valuable, something he didn't fully understand, but wanted to learn to care for. In his own way, Sigma tried to be a gentleman... even though inside he was still just a child, confused by the fragments of a cruel world that had caused him to grow up before his time.

The dance began. The music was slow, bodies swaying timidly between the couples. Sigma guided you with clumsy but attentive movements. He concentrated so much that he frowned slightly, as if dancing were a vital mission. Even so, little by little his steps became more natural. The rhythm loosened between you. You laughed. Your hands on his, his eyes shining with a mixture of effort and restrained tenderness.

And then, the moment froze.

You looked into his eyes—so full of doubt, but also of a desire to understand, to belong—and without thinking twice, you kissed him.

It was a soft, warm, brief touch… but enough to make Sigma freeze, his eyes wide open and his cheeks flushed. His body trembled slightly, as if something inside him had gone completely haywire. It took him several seconds to react.

When he finally blinked, his voice broke into a stifled whisper:

—Was that… a kiss?