On the other side of the door, a party. A hive of activity.
In this kitchen, a sphere of silence.
His eyes met hers. It was the wrong time for this. The wrong place. A small crime, but a crime of the heart is a little murder in the night. A crime nonetheless. And no one could come back from that.
Eyes locked, then drifted away. And as they made to move for the door back to the party and to their friends, their hands brushed.