Scarlet

22 | The Dance

"Your eyes hold everything my soul thirsts for."

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Day Nine

Everything happened in a blur. One minute Scarlet agreed to a dance, and the next, Davon had dragged her towards the dance floor. He had turned towards her and made her face him too. One of his hands rested on the side of her waist, and the other tangled its fingers into her own.

"Grab my shoulder with your other hand."

Scarlet did as she was told, almost begrudgingly. She stretched her free hand out to grip his shoulder rather tightly, and it seemed that Davon caught onto that. His eyes returned to hers, and a soft smile rested on his lips.

"Relax, Roselle. Now, just follow my lead. I'll go slow."

At first, Scarlet found great difficulty with coordinating her steps with those of Davon's. She even stepped on his shoes once or twice, and he only waved it away with a hearty chuckle. But soon enough, she got the hang of it. Scarlet learned to move gracefully, and there were no more awkward apologies uttered.

For the first time in a very long while, Scarlet had trouble meeting Davon's eyes for more than a few seconds. The way he looked at her, and the amount of adoration that his expression held for her- it was all too much. She wasn't intimidated, she just didn't like this much attention on herself.

"If only you knew what I'd do to see those cheeks turn red."

Scarlet's line of sight shot towards his face in an instant. Davon looked like he was in some kind of daze. Never for one moment, did he steer his stare away from her.

"If only you knew what I'd do to see emotion in those auburn eyes." He continued gently. The bittersweet dread started to churn Scarlet's insides once again. She studied Davon's features and wondered if that was indeed him speaking, or the red wine he drank several moments ago. Scarlet wished it was the latter, but at the same time, she hoped it wasn't.

"Sir, are you drunk?"

A type of stubbornness took over Davon's demeanor in an instant. Though he remained in that trance, a gleam of determination flashed through his eyes.

"From now on, I won't answer you unless you say my name." He promised darkly. Ever since Davon had heard his name from Scarlet's mouth, he had decided then and there that he won't let her address him with anything else. The idea that he may be overreacting crossed his mind, but he didn't care.

"Davon, are you drunk?"

A satisfied grin pulled Davon's lips. His hand on her waist slid further behind her and rested on her lower back. That was mostly a poor attempt to pull her closer, but also to help ease her apparent stress.

He could tell she was feeling anxious thanks to her firm grip on his shoulder. Davon secretly wished that it was the people surrounding them that made her feel this way, and not him.

"No. But you know what, I wished we could turn off the lights of this place." He murmured, more to himself than to Scarlet, but she heard that. And though she didn't want to assume things, she had a feeling his statement was favoring her.

"And why is that?"

"Because you love darkness. I'm sure having the lights off would help your anxiety."

Scarlet looked up at him to see that he was being sincere and not mocking her. Her blank facade slowly cracked, and for the first time, Davon saw something on her face; helplessness. She watched him with furrowed eyebrows, but she tried her best to maintain the flatness of her voice.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Davon asked immediately with cluelessness. He was genuinely concerned now. As much as he was shocked at the rare expressiveness that Scarlet displayed on her features, he also wondered if he had said something wrong.

"Why do you shower someone with all this care when you don't mean it?"

"Who said I don't mean it?" He questioned with an amused smile. Davon knew he had never come across as half-assed before, so Scarlet's question made no sense. But he then realized that she was a guarded person. To her, it may seem like everyone's compliments had an ulterior motive. And once again, he looped this all back to her childhood.

Davon wrapped his arm around her lower back completely. He leaned in towards the side of her face and stopped when his lips neared her ear.

"I mean every single thing that I've ever said to you."

He kept his mouth there and never moved it away. His head rested against her cheek, and he never paused the elegant but leisure movements of his feet. Neither did Scarlet.

She immediately closed her eyes shut. Her features had begun to reflect her emotions, and in order to avoid that, she had to close her eyelids.

For a moment she chose to forget that everyone else in the venue was present, and that she and Davon danced in an empty room, with the lights all turned off and darkness swallowing them both. She imagined that time was not of the essence, and that they could be dancing like this forever if they so wished.

But that was all wishful thinking. No matter, she still felt at peace. Real peace.

Scarlet opened up her eyes, and she realized that he still hadn't removed his head from the side of her face. Bizarrely enough, she didn't mind. If anything, she wanted him to keep it there for as long as he wished. And he did. Little did she know, he also had his eyes closed, because he too felt euphoria.

The assassin suddenly became aware of the people around them. Some were dancing in pairs just like them, some watched from the sidelines, and some were sitting down at the chairs and tables distributed in the party hall.

Most of them had their eyes on Scarlet and Davon, but that was because they were fascinated. To them, this looked the perfect couple you'd see in movies or read about in books.

Scarlet tried her best not to let their stares get to her, and while she did succeed in that, she spotted a pair of eyes that made her insides freeze up.

Her state of relaxation shattered like glass, only to be replaced by seething anger. Even Davon noticed that when he felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, and he opened up his eyes as he leaned away.

Because amongst the several bystanders, Scarlet managed to find two very familiar green eyes, who made the events of the last few days rush back into her head like a bad dream.