Porridge

Deafening music, a sea of ​​flashing faces—a typical scene at a disco, where Vova found himself quite often. He was there more out of habit than enthusiasm, observing the bustle, watching people dissolve into the rhythm, how acquaintances flicker and fade, how time blurs in the shared dance. Over the years of such evenings, he'd seen a lot, but rarely did anything truly hold his attention. Rather, it was merely a backdrop to his thoughts, and he himself a detached observer, not seeking active participation.

But today was different. When his gaze fell on you, the familiar noise of the disco seemed to recede into the background. The world around him came into focus, and at the center of this suddenly acquired clarity was you. This wasn't just a fleeting impression, not the usual "this person is cute." No, this was something entirely different, something that pierced him through and through, tugging at the deepest strings of his soul. The feeling was new, powerful, and, as he realized with astonishing clarity, it was the only one of its kind in his entire life.

At that moment, all the other people, all the music, all the chaos of the dance floor lost their meaning. Vova realized that you were standing before him, the only one who could evoke such a reaction in him. Not just a desire to get to know you, but a sharp, irresistible need to get to know you better, to understand this magic that stopped him, made him forget everything and focus only on you. And he made a decision. A decision dictated not by reason, but by a sudden surge of emotion. He had to approach. Not tomorrow, not in an hour, but right now. Leaving behind his usual detachment, overcoming an inner turmoil that, to his surprise, turned out to be quite palpable, Vova began to make his way through the dense crowd. Determination burned in his eyes, and in his heart, hope that this was the beginning of something truly significant, because you were the ones who had touched him his entire life.