One must say that Michael self-control was commendable. At least given how fierce his desire to get together with Cynthia was.
He retracted his hand, but his smile didn't fade.
Cynthia took a sip of her drink, then looked at Michael with eyes asking why he was still there. Even an insensitive person would notice that neither Cynthia, nor her companion had any desire for his presence.
Michael ignored her, and kept his gaze on Daemon:
"Mr Daemon, right? Did you have an accident? What happened to your face? It would be a pity if you got a scar."
Despite his pick, Michael didn't get to feel any sense of achievement as Daemon continued to treat him like air. The latter asked Cynthia, making her turn to him:
"Do you want to dance?"
Cynthia felt her heart skip a beat. It was Daemon's first time taking the initiative with her. She looked over the moon, too happy to wonder if she should have actually made the two men meet much earlier.
She put down her glass of champagne, and let Daemon lead her to the dance floor. It was a space left empty in the middle of the hall, with a few couples creating their own worlds.
This time, Michael failed to retain his smile. When Daemon was passing by, he stepped in front of him and held one hand forward. He frowned and coldly looked at him.
Daemon stopped and lowered his head to look at the hand that was touching his chest. It seemed that this was the first time someone was touching him like that ever since he left the hospital. And it was with what could be called hostile intentions.
For a moment, Daemon didn't know if he should find it funny and smile. His gaze didn't appreciate the high quality evening wear of the one before him. His dark eyes instead went over the joints of the arm the offending hand belonged to. The best places on the arm to use to incapacitate the owner of the hand without wasting much energy.
Then, instead of stopping there, like an instinct, he included the rest of Michael's body in his observations. He started lower, with his gaze leaving the hand, and looked at Michael's knee joints. He raised his sight to go over the crotch, the solar plexus, the kidneys, the spleen, the liver, the diaphragm, the heart, the throat, the ears, before finally resting his dark eyes on the ones with a different color in front of him.
"Michael, please behave yourself. You are representing your father."
Cynthia broke the tension with her intervention. Despite the lack of many people around them, as she had said, Michael was representing his father. The attention on him had made what was happening be noticed by some of the guests already.
Michael held Daemon's impassive gaze for a moment. He used his pride to cover the discomfort he was feeling, along with the trembling the earlier observation had made his heart experience. Still, Cynthia was right, so his smile came back with a bit of strain hidden within, and he gave way to the couple.
Daemon said nothing during this time, and simply resumed walking toward the dance floor. Cynthia forgot her unhappiness to enjoy what she was considering a victory.
Among the sparse dancers, they faced each other. Neither cared about the murmurs about the marketing department head, or the ones about her companion with a bandaged face. They got into position, with him using one of his hands to take hers, while the other one was placed on her back.
Cynthia followed him in the more relaxed stance, and they started moving with the music.
His adeptness made her express her curiosity:
"You can learn that in the army too?"
"It's not impossible."
"I didn't know soldiers have to dance. Still, you are quite versatile."
Daemon showed a small smile at the compliment. They followed the neither fast nor slow rise and fall of the music.
With Cynthia's mood the total opposite of Michael's, she only stopped when she was feeling a little tired. Having enjoyed the indulgence of Daemon to that point, she let him lead her back to their corner at last.
After she got another glass of champagne to moisten her throat, she turned to Daemon and she said:
"Give me a moment to use the restroom."
"Alright."
He watched her go away, either to answer a call of nature, or she was going to freshen up and touch up her makeup.
But because he didn't care, he didn't notice Michael also leaving the hall. He was instead looking for an exit that would lead him to a place to get some fresh air.
It was at that moment that a new couple made its entrance. He was not interested, at first. But due to habit, his gaze went over the pair to get them archived in his brain. And that was when he froze.
The years couldn't make him fail to recognize the only one to have ever owned his heart. She had been the light in his dark world, and she had made discover the colors and the beauty of emotions.
"Evelyn…"
His muttering was more of a whisper to himself, than a call to get the woman's attention.
She was wearing a dark dress, and the contrast between it and her fair skin only made the rest fade even more from his perception. The dress left her shoulders exposed, but it was modest. It showed no cleavage, but still made her assets obvious. Not the most generous, but just the right size. But all vulgar considerations were overshadowed by the gentle beauty she was radiating.
He seemed to hear only the sounds of the heels of her high heel shoes in the previously noisy hall.
She was so beautiful.
Her eyes were the same as he remembered, pure, innocent. But in them, he saw something more, a greater maturity refined by the years that had gone by, and maybe the pain he had inflicted on her.
Her brown hair was shorter than it had been years ago, but it still went past her shoulders, and she had it bundled on her right side.
He looked at the exposed forehead he used to place gentle kisses on, before his sight descended to where she was linking her arm with another man.
His pupils trembled slightly, but he didn't feel the world shatter, or his sight darken. But he did feel the true weight of his choice from six years ago.
He recognized the man as the smiling doctor he had met when he had been to the hospital for some scans to help in his project. He was the "Dr Speck" everyone, mostly female nurses, had been greeting with enthusiasm.
He seemed to feel a drop of blood fall from a wound on his heart.
But he deserved it.
With nothing to say, he turned around and left the hall.
Evelyn was looking around when she caught sight of a silhouette disappearing around a corner. The scene was so reminiscent of one that happened some time ago at the hospital the night Daemon woke up, but with its actors playing the opposite role.
The fleeting back felt familiar, but Evelyn failed to find the source of the feeling. So, without much reluctance, she dismissed it and turned to greet her colleagues with a smile.