𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑎𝑤𝑛 | 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐍

22⋆☾⋆Save the last dance

"No, no, no," A tall elegant woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose at the pair in front of her, "Three steps forward Gilan, one back, you move with her,"

Mrs. Delavier had been trying to teach the two most unnatural dancers she'd ever encountered in her thirty years of teaching. The girl did the movements, but with such a stiffness all of the beauty of it fell apart. And where that could've been fixed with a charming partner, which she did have, but who seemed determined to forget the steps the moment he made eye contact with his partner. It baffled her that as soon as the music played from the piano where her wife played the keys, his limbs got rusted in. She blamed it on the two being madly in love like the whole castle claimed. That it was love at first sight and that the two never wished to be parted from each other and thus had quickly decided for the wedding. They made a charming couple in her opinion.

Enox's grey eyes narrowed at the tall man in front of her who only looked at the wall behind her, his thoughts somewhere else. He seemed lighter, happier, but also more distracted which didn't suit her. He kept messing up the steps, so she took it onto herself to make a proper punishment for such incompetence. Her sharp nails bore deep into his skin as she marked a crimson cross on the back of his hand, which were still entangled in sake of the dance. He hissed and immediately took a step back, giving her a wide eyed stare. He didn't have to look so dumb, do wrong and you shall expect punishment, there was nothing harsh about it. According to her.

The young ranger hid his marked hand behind his back with a heavy heart. He'd never felt dread for someone, but that girl, she was vicious and was the type of person to kill someone slowly with a knife. It could very well be he'd be at the receiving end of that treatment when he'd served his purpose to her.

From behind the half open doors a female watched closely, longing to be on that dance floor and fleet on the music once again. The short time she'd been allowed to do so, it had been for a mission. But she had poured her heart into it and now danced along with the couple in the empty hallway. Following the steps, a smile even made it onto her lips when she got all of it right and it flowed smoothly as a river. Her legs moved on pure muscle memory and ached from the hours she'd followed their lessons, but her heart had never been fuller of energy.

"Let's call it a day, we've still got a week to practice, maybe if you rest some more you'll get it right next time," The dance teacher gave him a tired, but warm smile as she gave him a pat on the back.

His fiancée turned on her heels and strode out with big steps, following the other two in their leave. Once everyone was gone he pulled out his hand and tried moving it a bit to see how deep she'd gone. He was still easily able to move it, but still blood showed from the light wound. The door closed, leaving him utterly alone in the small ballroom, or so he thought.

"Are you okay Gil?" A soft voice called for him that hurried over with the dancing steps Mrs. Delavier had practiced with them. It made her look like a frolicking deer in a meadow, her eyes full of the same tenderness as she surveyed his hand.

He let his hand down and shrugged. "It's nothing,"

"Bullshit," the apprentice called as she took his hand, but he pulled it back sharply. She pressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I utterly suck at this dance, I don't know what it is."

"Come on," in one step she'd connected their arms, adjusted them the proper way and had smiled at him, "I'll help you."

"You were always the better dancer," he grinned, staring at her exposed skin where he shouldn't, feeling that scent of late nights roll throughout his body.

She would've felt the same, had she not been so focused on repeating the steps in her head, seeing them flash before her eyes, to get them right. "So first, three steps forward," the young woman slid over the floors, first left, than right, than left, Gilan followed, "then one back," it brought them close, but when she noticed the Ranger's eyes on the floor, trying to look where he was going, she poked him in the stomach, "eyes up mr. Davidson," a devilish grin lingered on her face before she continued, "if you step on my feet it's okay, but you can't dance when you don't see the room you're footing."

"You make it sound so easy," he complained.

"That's because it is, we've done it before, you've just got to loosen up."

The girl spun out and at the moment her arms were fully stretched, she was pulled back like an elastic and whirled into her partner a bit too fast. But he was prepared, maybe it had even been his forbidden intention, so he could put one hand on her stomach and let one travel lower on her legs. A snort escaped her when she turned around to see Gilan grinning at her and wiggling his eyebrows.

She gently slapped him on his side. "I would advice not to do that in a full ballroom if you want at least some credibility to your name."

Taking a step closer, he again took her arms and pulled her into position, his muscle memory picking up where they'd left off. "We are alone right now," his lips hovered close to her ear, "I can do what I want."

Even though it made her flinch, she straightened her back. "Except dance, you're going the wrong way."

"You're impossible." Gilan sighed.

Abruptly the girl stopped. With an aching heart and a downwards mouth she looked up at him, her head weighing heavy. "No, I'm trying to do what's right. For you. What you can't seem to bring up."

"You know just as well as I do that it's complete madness, this marriage." His green eyes were dripping with anger, his chest heaved at the injustice.

It should be us.

But she remembered, more than he perhaps how cruel Pictans could be. "And you'll get in trouble if you step out of line."

With me.