"Owen, can you grab me a drink? Something strong," Kira said, leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed. The bass from the living room thumped through the walls, and the faint smell of spilled beer clung to the air. Owen nodded, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a bottle of vodka.

They’d known each other since college, but tonight felt different. Kira’s sleeveless black dress hugged her curves, and her long, wavy hair framed her face, catching the dim light. Owen, in his untucked button-down and jeans, looked more relaxed than usual, his usual sharp edges softened by the party’s energy.

"Here," he said, handing her a glass, his fingers brushing hers. "Careful, it’s strong." Kira smirked, taking a sip, her eyes locking with his. "You’re not planning to ditch me tonight, are you?" she asked, her voice teasing but with a hint of something else. Owen hesitated, his gaze lingering on her just a moment too long. "Not a chance," he said, his voice low. The music shifted, and someone called his name from the other room, but neither of them moved.