This is a story idea I've had in mind for, oh... three years or so? It has changed considerably since then, but the main idea has stayed the same. This was written for Elsanna Week June 2017, though I completely ignored the prompts they gave because I didn't like them. I hope you enjoy!

The club was thumping and Anna wasn't honestly having a great time. She was definitely on her way to tipsy, but this really wasn't the best decisions for a 'first date'. Particularly not from a Tinder first date.

She was currently hiding from the "gentleman" who had so kindly offered to buy her drinks. And then gotten upset when she didn't want to sleep with him. Ah, fuck that. She didn't owe him anything – especially not her body. He'd stalked off and she'd retreated to a slightly-quieter-but-still-really-loud section of the club. Over here people were mostly drinking in silence (either on their own or in a group), or they were getting very handsy with one another.

The only exception was another girl, perhaps her own age, nursing a glass of wine and her head stuck in her phone. Well, there was no reason she couldn't try and salvage some of the evening.

Making her way over to the girl, Anna was struck by just how gorgeous she was. How she'd convinced anyone to leave her alone was beyond Anna – she'd never met anyone with such blond hair and smooth skin. Clear blue eyes, which Anna was a bit surprised to see directed her way.

Oh god and then that smile. Anna lifted a hand and pointed at herself, and the girl bit her lip and nodded. In what was probably an incredibly dreamy way, she moved towards the girl, landing heavily next to her.

"HI I'M ANNA," she shouted above the music. The girl just frowned and lifted one hand, pointing at herself first before moving to her ear. It dragged towards her mouth and the meaning was very clear: "What are you saying we're in a club how am I supposed to hear you?"

Right. Music. Probably not good for conversation. Instead Anna smiled and pointed at their drinks and then at the bar. The girl's face morphed into a confused frown for just a second before she smiled and shook her head. Instead, she knocked back the remainder of her cocktail and cocked her head towards the mass of writhing bodies out on the floor. Perhaps it was better that she turned down the drink, because when she asked, "Wa' da'ss," she definitely sounded like she'd had a fair bit.

Despite that, she moved with all the grace and poise of someone who hadn't just downed half a cocktail in one gulp (let alone likely more) as she pulled Anna towards the floor. Eyes alight, she let Anna do the leading, and by the time they actually reached the dancefloor they were holding hands and already sweating and bright red – something that couldn't just be attributed to the heat of the crowd.

The best part about drunk dancing, Anna mused at one point, was that you didn't have to be good, you just needed to try. She wasn't a very good dancer. She'd accepted that. Neither was her partner. She seemed not to be aware of the distance between herself and anyone else (which was not something Anna was going to complain about, pressed against her as she was). Her hands strayed, but never anywhere super inappropriate. It wasn't long before they were facing each other, chest-to-chest, eyes burning.

Anna really, really wanted to kiss her.

It seemed the girl was of the same mind, because barely had the thought crossed her mind; barely had her tongue poked out and her eyes strayed to the girl's lips, before they were kissing.

It was hot. And messy. And unpractised.

But god it still felt so good. There was a moan and Anna had no idea whose it was, but it only spurned her on further. She broke away only long enough to look at the door. She couldn't find it to yell above the music, but her meaning must have been very clear when she whispered, "Wanna get out of here?"

It seemed her partner had the same idea.