A/N: This was written for a writing challenge. I couldn't use the word "the".
He stood apart from others, no drink in hand. He never danced, just stood and watched. Our host, it seemed, would go unnoticed for another night.
I found that my eyes always sought for him, and once captured it was not easy to let him go. Graceful were his moves. Every gesture pre-calculated. Once, he caught me staring at him. I blushed, ashamed for my lack of tact, but he held my gaze and caressed it with a smile.
Overcome like a youth finally noticed by his more fashionable peers, I raised my glass with unsteady hand and sloppy grin. I started to walk towards him but a surge of dancers, caused by a shift in musical tempo, jostled me off course.
Flustered, I glanced back up towards my mark.
He was gone.