Whisper...

A sideways glance from a fair haired boy with a nervous smile left him feeling slightly more illuminated then the rest of the crowd. A spot light just for him shining from the other side of the room.
Jack wasn't sure if he should move, fearful that the light surrounding may not follow if he did. So he sits for a further five minutes, watching the reflection in the mirror across the way, trying to work up the courage to walk on past.
His new fan was seated in a corner booth on the other side of the room. So with a slow gracious walk, quickly followed by a stumble as he bumps into a stool hidden from his line of sight, Jack heads on over.

An apology to the girl who is now covered in the cocktail she was very much enjoying and wearing a red flushed face, he quickly notices this extremely good looking boy has stood to greet him on his walk.
As he fumbles for the right words to say, the boy wipes away the smile from his face and contains his laughter at this fault stepping young man and makes an introduction.

Philippe, with his squared features but kind and gentle blue eyed face, speaks his name with a soft and sexy French accent. Suddenly Jack is lost and the upbeat Jazz music slows right down, followed by the low lighting dimming even more so.
An awkward pause follows and he soon comes to the realisation that it’s now his turn to speak and Jack quickly snaps back into reality.

Their effortless conversation flows smoothly and is filled with clear cut flirtation, time seems to pass at a slower pace even tho the night is seemingly escaping them.
Eyes meeting each others continuously, their focus is locked on here and now.
Oblivious to the crowd around them, these two young men are found in a world all of their own.