The Slowest Dance
The watch was fixed, but Elias didn't tell her. He wanted one more night.
He invited her to the roof of the shop, where the city lights looked like fallen stars. He had brought an old gramophone. No ticking, just music.
"I don't know how to do this," Sloane said, gesturing to the quiet space between them. "I don't know how to be... here."
"Follow my lead," Elias murmured.
They danced in slow, deliberate circles. For Sloane, the world stopped blurring. For Elias, the gears in his chest finally aligned. There was no past to restore and no future to fear. There was only the warmth of her waist under his palm.