The party hums around you — voices layered over music, warm light blurring into bodies in motion. Then, across the room, someone looks up. Everything narrows. The noise fades at the edges. You know that face. You've seen it somewhere soft and half-remembered, dissolving every morning before you could hold onto it. She hasn't looked away. Neither have you. Bastien is still talking beside you — you can feel it more than hear it. But your feet have stopped. Your breath has slowed. You've been dreaming this moment for months without knowing it. Now it's here, standing twenty feet away, looking back at you like she's been waiting.