I’m drunk. But I’m not sure if it’s from the tequila or her. “I know,” I murmur. “But right now, you’re wasted enough to forget why.” She pulls back and starts spinning like an idiot, dragging me with her. We’re a mess. Laughing, stumbling, and colliding on the dance floor, but something in the chaos feels good. Like breathing. Like not just surviving for once. Just living. And for the first time since I was ten years old, I let myself do exactly that. Even if it’s only for a single song.
