Short of breath.
Sweat glistening.
Ears pounding.
Hearts racing.
The night club was full of life, heavy techno tracks playing loud enough to shatter glass. Participants were dancing like no tomorrow, enemies and comrades swaying togther to the same song. The air was heavy with adrenaline and alcohol.
Ratchet sat at the bar, running his finger along the rim of his drink. He didn't dare to dance.
Not now. Not tonight.
He was in no mood to join everyone else. Clank was supposed to meet him but alas, the tiny bot had canceled at the last minute, claiming he had a date already planned.
"I didn't even know he was seeing someone." The Lombax seethed, gripping his drink tightly. "That prick. How could he not tell ME. I'm his best friend, dammit!"
A little voice tugged at the back of his head that made his long ears droop.
Was he his best friend?
The pair had grown apart it seemed, Clank being far too preoccupied with Secret Agent Clank and raving fangirls. Disgusted by the whole affair, Ratchet spent most of his time in the garage, venting his anger on any damaged ship he could grasp.
Lights flashing.
Feet stomping.
Eyes closing.
Fists raised high.
The bright array was beginning to blind Ratchet and a headache was forming at the top of his cranium. Fishing into his pocket, he grabbed a handful of bolts and left it on the counter, waving quickly to the bartender.
"Leaving so soon, Ratchet?"
He looked up and gave a little gasp.
Clank was sitting on the stool next to him, dressed up in his Secret Agent tuxedo. He swirled what looked like a martini in his hand, shooting his companion a coy grin.
"I was just about to ask you if you would care to dance with me."
Though his voice was at its usual volume, Ratchet could easily hear him over the cacophony of the club. His heart gave a little stutter as his friend reached out and grasped his gloved hand.
"Dance with me, Ratchet."
Grinning like a fool, the Lombax grabbed his friend and made his way to the floor. His smile never faltered as they danced away. The small bot was surprisingly good at it, making his friend laugh as he retained a serious look the whole time. At one point, their hands came together, gripping tightly and never letting go.
Spirits soaring.
Lips smiling.
Eyes gleaming.
Hearts flying.