She was by all accounts the perfect stranger. Someone you could watch from a distance, unseen and unnoticed in your attraction and no one was ever the wiser.
A perfect figure in the strobe light propped up against the bar, half empty alcopop in hand, chewing on her straw. Not quite the measure of sophistication but still unattainable.
Perfect, at least in your mind, from your perspective, but then again you’ll never get close enough to find out otherwise.
She’s just one deafening night’s vision, a small stream of stillness in a swarming packed out room; you don’t need contact, not really, you’re quite content to just watch and (dream.) And then she caught you…
A small eruption of distant laughter accompanied with simultaneous flicking of auburn hair, a flash of two blue charmers and you’re immersed.
She caught the glint in your eye and the suggestion at the corner of your lips. She didn’t turn back straight away, neither did she embrace your gaze long enough for her surrounding fans to notice her distracted attentions, but you caught it.
Enough to make you twitch, if only slightly.
Enough to make you realise you weren’t dead inside after all. And in that insignificant moment, maybe to her just a polite recognition of an onlooker’s wandering eyes, your mind’s a jittery mess.