Zeven led them back out to the dance floor so that they could get away from as many onlookers as possible. He was still surprised at how well her hand fit in his. The way their hands knit together let him feel the calluses that formed from years of fighting. He had danced with many women, but she was the only one whose hands bore those marks. Even the men he had danced with didn't feel the way she did in his ams, she was an enigma to him in every since of the word.
It was odd that he found himself so fixated on the small things. The feel of her hands, the freckles on her cheeks, the way her smile was ever so slightly crooked.
He could feel himself moving closer and closer to Chris as they danced, until he was right against her. Letting out a heavy sigh, he finally managed to drag his eyes from the sight of her.
The action did not go unnoticed. Chris had felt the intensity of his gaze and heard the frustration in sigh.
"Are you upset because Gunter knows your type?"
"I'm upset because Gunter doesn't know my type."
"Really, this doesn't do it for you?" She looked up at him, eyes half lidded, lips just barely parted.
"You must really enjoy playing with fire."
But Zeven had not been the only one staring. While he was busy looking at her, she was busy studying him. He was handsome. Too much for his own good. Yet that was not why Chris felt so drawn to him. Yes he was attractive, but she was never more attracted to him than in the moments where he was just himself. Not the general on the battlefield, not the stratigen who thought of her as a game piece, not the prince who stood before everyone. But the man who was holding her close. Gentle, kind, funny, for all the walls he put up she had still managed to see the imperfect human within his masks.
He was an ugly, terrible monster, who hurt and grieved and was broken. It was clear from the way others idolized him that they were only interested in the perfection, the masterpiece. But not the hours to work that was put into its creation.
And although she did not voice any of this, she did lean in closer to him. Allowing her for just one night to feel the same way any woman would.
The dance continued. Oblivious to the two hearts beating together.
Zeven's eye was drawn to an elderly couple dancing off in the distance. Feeble steps that fell off the beat, but they were so in love that all time and space seemed to bend around them. He took a second to point them out to her as they danced.
"Do you ever think that'll be us?"
"Old and happy? Probably not."
"How close do you think we can get?"
"Ehh… I can't imagine either of us hitting forty. You'll say something at the wrong place and time, and I will probably take on a fight I can't win."
"That still leaves us being happy."
Any protest she might have given died on her lips. She wanted to argue that happiness was not something she would ever get, or something she deserved, but standing next to him she also wanted to believe that it was within reach.
The music faded out and back in as the tune changed. Spinning around in circle after circle couples continued to dance along, swept away in a sea of euphoria.
A girl stumbled over to where Chris and Zeven were dancing. Her steps were unsteady, and there was a loose quality to her gait that was unmistakable. she collapsed on to Chris with a laugh.
The back of her dress was completely open. Relieving a defined muscular build. There was a deep groove that ran up the middle of her golden back. As it moved up Chris could see the strings that tied around her neck that kept the dress up. They were olive green in color with a satin look, knotted in a small bow at the nape of her neck.
Her shiny black hair hung down in soft curls. And despite her stumbling, they seemed to retain their perfect spiral.
She laughed loudly as she apologized to Chris, her smile wide and inviting. And for a moment Chris thought she saw a certain clarity in her eyes, until she looked over at Zeven seemingly growing drunker on his looks.
With slightly faltering footsteps she moved over to Zeven wrapping her arms around his neck while arching her body into him. Chris knew that other women had had their eye on Zeven all night, but this was the first one to actually do anything. She was aggressive with her advances, holding on to him tightly.
Zeven looked over at Chris apologetically, and she knew what that meant. They both could see that this girl wasn't going to sober up anytime soon nor would she willingly let go of zeven. Chris nodded back at him and she started to help walk her off the dance floor. But when she kept tripping over her own feet, he gave up and picked her up from the floor.
It was an uncomfortable feeling to see Zeven holding someone else so close to him.
She was about to follow after him until a forcible hand caught her own and pulled her back. The other hand moved to her waist, trapping her close.
"Don't make a scene, I'd hate to think that sharing a dance with me is that bad."
She didn't need to ask who he was. He looked so much like Zeven that it was terrifying. The same dark brown hair slicked back, the same nose, the same curved smile. Even the eyes were the same. Deeper than an abyss. But unlike Zeven's, there was a great malice hiding in them, waiting for just the right moment to strike.
"I need to get back to my partner."
"You can spare an old man a dance."
It wasn't a question, or even a request, it was an order. His hands felt like they were burning into her skin wherever they touched, but she could not escape their fire.
"Zeven isn't the only one who can move amidst a crowd unseen," He didn't leave holes in the conversation for her to add input into as much as time for him to pretend it was a two sided conversation.
"My son is very dear to me, I'm sure you know how it is. Fathers and their sons have such a special bond." He gave another pause, but it was only for the gravity of his words to weigh down on her. "If I were you, I would think long and hard about what you want, and how far you are willing to go to get it. There is nothing I am not willing to do."