Fate

Chapter Five: Continuation

Ann tried to blend into the background for the rest of the party. She stood near the edge of the room, sipping a soda instead of the awful drink she had first grabbed. Joy had disappeared into the crowd, and Luke and Sarah were deep in conversation.

But her eyes kept drifting back to Demian.

He moved through the party with an ease she envied, chatting, laughing, fitting in as if he belonged anywhere he went. Every time she saw him throw his head back in laughter or lean in slightly to hear someone over the music, something twisted in her chest.

She shouldn’t care.

She didn’t care.

That was the lie she kept repeating to herself.

Then, just when she thought she could slip away unnoticed, the music changed. A slower song, something deep and rhythmic, filled the air. People paired off to dance, and before Ann could react, Joy appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her arm.

"Someone’s looking for you," she whispered.

Ann barely had time to process what she meant before she turned—and found Demian standing in front of her.

He held out a hand. "Dance with me."

Ann’s heart stopped.

She should say no. She should walk away.

Instead, she took his hand.

The crowd around them faded as he pulled her closer, his hands resting lightly at her waist. Her breath hitched as she placed hers on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.

"You’re tense," Demian murmured.

Ann scoffed. "Because this is weird."

He smirked. "Is it?"

Yes. No. Maybe.

The slow rhythm of the music forced them to move together, their bodies swaying in sync. Ann tried not to focus on how close he was, on the way his thumb brushed against her waist absentmindedly.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked.

Demian tilted his head. "Dancing?"

"Acting like this," she clarified. "Like we’re… I don’t know."

His gaze searched hers. "Like we’re something more than old classmates?"

Ann swallowed hard. "We’re not."

"Then why haven’t you let go?"

Her fingers twitched against his shoulders.

She should pull away.

She didn’t.

The music slowed further, and Demian leaned in slightly, his voice softer now. "I don’t know why you keep running from me, Ann. But if you tell me to back off, I will."

Ann opened her mouth—ready to say something, anything—but the words tangled in her throat.

Before she could sort them out, someone bumped into them, breaking the moment.

Ann took a step back, her heart hammering.

"I need some air," she mumbled and slipped away before he could say another word.

---

Ann stood outside, taking in deep breaths.

The cool night air was a relief against her flushed skin.

What was she doing?

What was Demian doing?

She had spent years pushing her feelings aside, convincing herself that they didn’t matter. But tonight, for the first time, she wondered—had she been wrong?

Had Demian seen through her all along?

The door behind her opened, and she knew before turning who it was.

Demian stepped outside, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"You okay?" he asked.

Ann nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was true.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the sounds of the party muffled behind them.

Then, quietly, Demian said, "You don’t have to be afraid of me, Ann."

Her breath caught. "I’m not."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

Everything.

How easy it was to fall into this.

How badly she wanted to.

Ann met his gaze, something inside her unraveling.

But before she could answer, a voice called from inside.

"Demian!"

He glanced back toward the party, then back at her, as if waiting for something.

Ann forced a small smile. "Go. Your admirers are waiting."

For a second, he hesitated.

Then, with a nod, he turned and disappeared back inside.

Ann exhaled, leaning against the railing.

She wasn’t sure what had shifted tonight.

But something had.

And she wasn’t sure she could ignore it anymore