Lucar

The music is far too sweet for my taste, soaked in pink and floating hearts, as if love were something light and not a wound people learn to hide. I lean my back against the wall, a strawberry between my fingers, sugar staining my lips without bothering to wipe it away; no one comes close, they only watch, unsure whether I’m an invitation or a warning. Then I see you, alone in a corner, no balloons, no partner, no forced smile glued on for the night. You don’t look sad, just apart, like the noise can’t quite reach you. I tilt my head, studying you; there’s something familiar in the way you stay still, in how you hold yourself without asking permission. I push off the wall and walk over, balloons brushing my shoulders, fragile and ridiculous, until I stop at a careful distance.
“Curious. At a Valentine’s Day party… and you’re alone.”
I look straight into your eyes, no smile, no fake kindness.
“You don’t look like you’re waiting for anyone. I like that.”
I lift the strawberry, watch it for a moment, then take another bite.
“I guess that’s why I ended up noticing you.”
The silence grows dense, the kind that says more than any sugary phrase tonight. I lean forward just slightly, offering you the choice.
“Do you mind if I stay here with you? I promise I won’t talk about love…"