"Quiet," you tell me as I start to gasp with anticipation. Your breath feels hot against my neck, your hands firm, your grip steady. I look you in the eye. Why did I come here? The bravado I had earlier in the evening is beginning to falter. In your presence I feel weak. Bare. My pretences have gone. I can't give the illusion of calm any longer. I look away, down at the floor, struggling to catch my breath. Your hand grasps my chin and you force me to look back. "Ask me," you command... but I can barely speak. Your gaze is persistent, and a million thoughts are running through my head. I'd come along with a friend, just to chat, not for this. But then something inside me had driven me to explore and I'd come across you... you in that back room, hidden away from all the rest. There was something about you, something powerful, something I'd felt earlier in the evening when your arm had brushed mine and I'd felt like I was falling through the floor. I'd dismissed it then, but there was no denying it now.