Tsol - 11 - Dance With Me - (hq) Here

She opened her eyes—dark, kohl-rimmed, and sharp enough to cut. Jack held out a hand, not for a polite waltz, but as a silent pact.

As the final chord rang out into a cavernous echo, she let go of his hand and vanished back into the crowd before the lights could come up. Jack stood there, chest heaving, the ghost of her grip still warm on his skin. He didn't know her name, and he didn't need to. The song was over, but the adrenaline felt like it would last forever. TSOL - 11 - Dance With Me - (HQ)

Across the pulsing swell of the mosh pit, he saw her. She was a blur of messy bleached hair and a tattered black t-shirt, moving with a jagged grace that defied the chaos around her. While everyone else was slamming into one another, she seemed to be dancing with a ghost, her eyes closed, a faint, defiant smirk on her lips. She opened her eyes—dark, kohl-rimmed, and sharp enough