Chapter Text
Manon wasn’t looking for anything when Sophia crashed into her.
Literally.
The impact jolted Manon forward just as the bass dropped, beer sloshing over her wrist and splattering onto the dirt below. Someone shouted behind them. Someone else laughed. The lights strobed red, then white, and for half a second the world felt like it was standing still.
“Oh my God-” The girl said, already reaching out, eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t-”
Manon looked up.
Whatever apology Sophia had been about to finish died on her lips.
She had sharp eyes. Not mean, not cold, just aware, like she noticed everything at once and didn't miss much. Her curly hair was pulled back messily, face flushed from heat and movement, mouth slightly parted, like she hadn’t expected to be stopped mid-sentence. There was a kind of confidence there. Someone who belonged this chaotic, pulsing festival, and maybe, Manon thought, someone who belonged with her.
Manon smiled slowly.
“If that was your way of flirting,” she said tilting her head, “you could’ve just said hi.”
Sophia blinked.
Then she laughed, loud and surprised, like the sound escaped before she could stop it. “Was it that obvious?”
Manon shrugged. “I’ve seen worse openers.”
Sophia glanced at the beer dripping from Manon’s fingers. “I owe you a drink.”
“You owe me your name first.”
Sophia hesitated just long enough for Manon to notice.
“Sophia,” she said finally.
“Manon.”
They shook hands like they were meeting in a quiet cafe instead of the middle of a packed music festival, bodies brushing every time the crowd surged. Sophia’s hand was warm. Her grip was firm. Confident. Manon liked that. Liked the deliberate way she didn't flinch, didn't pull away.
“What stage were you headed to before you assaulted me?” Manon asked.
Sophia nodded toward the glowing lights behind them. “Le Sserafim. But honestly?” She leaned in closer to be heard over the music. “My friend and I switched shoes, and she was clearly unprepared for a festival. So I was mostly just trying to find a reason to stop walking.”
Manon raised an eyebrow. “Congratulations. You’ve been stopped.”
Her friends, Megan and Lara, were somewhere in the crowd, waving and pointing at a stage they wanted to hit next. Manon had dragged them along insisting she could handle one more act before exaustion set in. Now they were lost to the crowd, caught in the chaos of tents, glow sticks, and thousands of dancing strangers. She knew they'd catch up eventually but right now she didn't care at all. All that mattered was Sophia.
Manon noticed the little things about Sophia as they talked. The subtle curl of her hair escaping her ponytail, the way her cheeks were flushed from running to catch up with a friend, the intensity in her eyes even in the wild, pulsing light of the festival. It was like she didn't just exist here; she owned it. And somehow, Manon found herself wanting to be owned by her.
"You have a way of making accidents sound intentional," Manon said, her voice low enough that Sophia had to lean closer to hear.
Sophia laughed again, and this time she didn’t step back.
"I have a way of noticing accidents that matter," Sophia replied, lips tilting in a smirk.
That smirk did something to Manon's chest, and she realized she hadn't even thought about the rest of her week, class, homework, the lab Megan dragged her to the day before they left, because somehow all that felt miles away. Right now, it was just the music, the lights, the heat of bodies pressed together, and this girl in front of her.
They started dancing, almost instinctively, letting the rhythm take over. One song became two, then three. Manon lost track of time somewhere between Sophia leaning in to say something stupid in her ear and Manon responding by pulling her closer by the belt loops. The crowd pressed in around them people bumping and shoving, but none of it mattered.
“You do this a lot?” Sophia asked, breath warm against Manon’s neck.
“Dance?” Manon asked, breathless and teasing.
“Flirt,” Sophia said voice just loud enough for her to feel the of it against her earlobe.
Manon grinned. “Only when I’m winning.”
Sophia scoffed. “You’re not winning.”
Manon leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched. “Then why are you still here?”
Sophia didn’t answer.
"I think you like this," Manon muttered, hand brushing against Sophia's arm, thumb tracing light circles over her skin.
"I might," Sophia whispered back, eyes locked on hers pupils wide, breath uneven.
Neither knew who leaned in first. It was messy and unplanned and a little reckless, mouths colliding in a way that made Manon laugh into it before kissing her back properly.
The second kiss was soft exploratory testing. Then it deepened, teeth grazing, tongues brushing in rhythm with the music. Manon laughed into it, tilting her head, letting herself feel the thrill of something different. Something electric. Something that felt like it mattered. She pressed closer, intentionally letting her hands wander over Sophia's shoulders and down her back, memorizing the feel of her in the way she usually reserved for people she trusted the most. The music swelled around them, lights blurring, the world narrowing down to hands and heat and the way Sophia kissed like she meant it, like she wasn’t holding back.
Manon tasted beer and lip gloss and something electric she couldn't name.
"This isn't just a random thing, is it?" Manon asked between kissed, breath coming fast, heart hammering.
"No," Sophia admitted, hands tracing her sides. "I...I don't think it is."
Manon's chest tightened with exhilaration. Most nights were fleeting, meaningless. This felt intentional. Real. Dangerous in the best possible way.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Sophia rested her forehead gently on Manon’s.
“This feels like a bad idea,” Sophia said.
Manon hummed “You don’t look like you’re trying to stop.”
Sophia smiled, small and dangerous. “I’m not.”
They kissed again, slower, more deliberate. Every brush of lips, every playful bite, every whispered laugh made it clear neither of them wanted to let go. Manon felt herself trembling from the adrenaline, from the heat, from anticipation of what this could lead to.
Sophia’s phone rang.
She froze.
Manon felt it immediately, the shift, the sudden crack in the bubble they'd built. Sophia pulled back, hand already fumbling in her pocket, face changing as she glanced at the screen.
“Shit,” she muttered
Manon raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”
Sophia swallowed “I-I need to take this.”
She stepped back, just far enough to break the bubble they’d built. The festival's noise came rushing back in full force, blaring speakers, shouting crowds, laughter, the scent of food stalls and mud, all at once.
“I’ll be right back,” Sophia said quickly, already lifting the phone to her ear. “I promise.”
Manon nodded easily because at that moment she wanted to believed her. Wanted to believe in this, wanted to hold onto the way it felt, the way everything else disappeared when they kissed.
Sophia turned to disappear into the crowd, but before she did she turned back and pecked Manon on the lips one last time as a silent promise. She turned away and her voice was quickly swallowed by the music and bodies and lights.
Manon waited.
She leaned against the barricade, breathing hard, heart hammering in a way she hadn't felt since high school. Her friends were somewhere out there, Megan probably complaining about the price of alcohol, Lara taking mental notes of the songs she liked for the group playlist, but none of that mattered. Not now. All that mattered was what had just happened, what she had just felt, and how different it had been from anything she expected. So she watched the stage and let the next song play out.
Minutes passed. Then more.
Manon checked her phone. No signal. Of course.
She scanned the crowd, heart picking up speed for reasons she refused to examine too closely. People blurred together, too many faces, too many almosts. Sophia didn’t come back.
And that was when Manon realized something, sharp and sudden and deeply annoying.
She didn’t have Sophia’s number.
She didn’t even know her last name.
All she had was a name, a kiss, and the echo of a night that suddenly felt a lot shorter than it had a moment ago.
Manon exhaled, half-laughing to herself.
“Shit,” she muttered.
The music played on, relentless, pounding, and for the first time she realized sometimes the most electric moments came with the most frustrating uncertainty. And somehow, that made her want more.