She smiles.

You can see the joy in her eyes, the way they light up. Slowly at first, like a fire just catching light; the fire spreads quickly though. It comes through her eyes and spreads across her face as she blushes. The sides of her nose pull back as the growing grin she wears pulls on her cheeks.

You can see her mouth moving, but the words she speaks are lost in the pulsing mass of humanity, bodies dancing to the pulsating beat all around you. The girl in your arms seems less beautiful as she steps into his.

A new song begins, and before you realize it, your movements have gotten more pronounced. You’ve heard of animalistic tendencies, but you’ve never experienced it.

Until now.

As the pulsing beat begins to fill you, your dance becomes more graphic, ritualistic even. It becomes a dance of survival, one of evolution and procreation. Your good boy image comes crashing down as the girl you’re dancing with becomes your toy. You’re doing things you never realized you could, actions you thought were reserved for the brainless Neanderthals you used to look down with contempt upon while wishing you were them.

The crowd seems shocked. You’re known for your academic record, your good reputation, and yet here you are. She notices the talk and turns to look at you, seemingly confused. You wink at her, and in the middle of the song, let go of the girl you were holding and walk outside.

You reach into your pocket and emerge with a cigarette and a lighter. As the ember burns, you realize that no one has ever seen you smoking. No one even knew that you did. She comes outside, she must have left her partner inside.

Can she have one?

You didn’t know she smoked.

Only occasionally.

You hand her a cigarette and light it for her. She puffs on it while you watch her.

She smiles.