reader (Cynthia) x Wriothesley

chapter 3 (last chapter srry

The two of your continue to dance, shooting jokes and laughs at each other before the conversation gradually shifts to one where you speak about the other's recent life, troubles, excitements, etcetera. You can't help but feel a warm feeling in your chest as you dance with himself, feeling at ease. Your movements come naturally with his, as if you've done this many times before when in reality, this is the first time he's been in your presence ever since the catching of the criminal.
"You know," he murmurs, tilting his head downwards and making direct eye contact. "I could give you a pass to come to the Fortress," he murmurs, pulling you close, voice lowering. You shudder.
"I'm not sure if I technically supposed to, but," he says, pulling you back. "-I think I can make an exception for one person.
You swallow suddenly nervous. "I... Quoi? (What?)
"Really?" You ask, dumbfounded.
He nods. "You'd be allowed to come and leave as you please," he assures. "So we can see each other more often?"
Yours eyes blink, and quickly, the distance between you two seems way, way too close, and yet, you find yourself continuing to sway with him. "I... would love that, Wriothesley."
He tilts his head, observing you and smiling. "Say it again," He murmurs softly.
You frown in confusion. "Say me name."
A shiver runs down your spine like a cold snake on fire, an unsettling yet welcoming feeling finding it's way to your chest
"Wriothesley."
Both of you smile at the sam time, and he pulls away, still holding your hand and leading you away from the crowd. "Where are you taking me?" You chuckle.
"Somewhere we can sign the paperwork, of course," he replies, and you hesitate in confusion. He stops to look at you. "For the pass?"
"Oh," you say, blinking. He snorts at your expression. "Here, I think there's an office down the hallway. By any chance, do you have a pen with you?"
You shake your head. "Eh, i don't know why I asked. It can't hurt to shuffle through someone's office for a pen, right?" He grins mischievously, and you bark our a laugh. Duke or not, you suppose Wriothesley would always have a rebellious side.
"I'll figure something official out," he says nonchalantly. "Here, sit down. I'll be right back. Want some tea, Cynthia? I'll bring a cup for you."