Piece Of Me

It felt like the air between the two people had thickened more than usual. Something is stirring within him - slow, deliberate, a little dangerous. The gaze slides, but doesn't let go. It seems even your pulse adjusts to the rhythm of someone holding a pause for too long. Everything is on the edge: attraction and self-control, heat and the cold mask of "nothing is happening." The music is like a breath on your neck - lazy, with a promise that's hard to dismiss. And now it's unclear who hypnotised whom first: the glance that was cast, or the rhythm that won't let go. In any case, it's pointless to resist. Everything is burning.