The neon lights of the "Blue Velvet" lounge were just blurred streaks against the rain-slicked window. Inside, the air tasted of expensive gin and fading perfume.
The slowed, hollowed-out beat of the instrumental pulsed through the floorboards—less a song and more a heartbeat under sedation. Elias sat in the corner booth, his glass sweating onto the mahogany table. He wasn't waiting for anyone; he was waiting for a feeling to leave. One dance - Instrumental (slowed)
Should we add a to bridge the gap between them, or The neon lights of the "Blue Velvet" lounge
Across the room, she appeared like a glitch in a dream. She didn't walk to the rhythm; she swayed against it, her silk dress catching the low amber light. No words were exchanged when she reached his table. She simply held out a hand, her eyes carrying the same tired weight as the bassline. Elias sat in the corner booth, his glass
