MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE? ♡ vil schoenheit

MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?

vil was a busy person, as a model, actor, housewarden and student at the prestigious night raven college, of course he was. even when he took time off from acting to focus on his schooling. it wasn't unusual for your boyfriend to return to his room, where you were often waiting, looking quite tired.

with vil's often-busy schedule, it had practically become routine you'd go as far to say, to wait for vil in his room, where you would likely spend the night. you certainly took advantage of this routine, just happy to see vil, especially when he relaxed after a long day. vil never protested when he found you waiting for him, nor when you would (almost always) make the decision to spend the night with him.

and like this established routine, you were once again in his room as the day turned night, laying across vil's bed and watching your boyfriend complete his nighttime skin routine. there was a radio beside him, where soft music played. vil liked to listen to music every night as he got ready for bed, quiet enough so he didn't disturb anyone so late, but loud enough to fill the silence of the room.

you had been reading before vil returned to his room, but now it remained bookmarked and forgotten as you lay at the foot of the bed, chin resting on the back of your hands and watching vil, something you did every night. sometimes he'd catch you starring, and you'd grin, to which he'd always roll his eyes and smile.

you two sat in a comfortable lack of conversation with only the music to fill the silence.

your attention momentarily switched to the radio as the song trailed off and began a new one, one that sounded more classical, like something you'd listen to while dancing. oh. you smiled, rolling off the side of the bed and to your feet. you approached your boyfriend, stopping behind him watching him finish his routine before he acknowledged you through the mirror with a questioning look.

before he could ask you what you were doing, you held out your hand and grinned, "may i have this dance?"

he blinked, turning his attention from your reflection to face you directly, his expression almost deadpan, "[name]." he said, as if asking you if you were serious. you only shrugged in response to your name, smile turning cheeky, wiggling your fingers, urging him to take your hand.

your smile grew when he shook his head and sighed, muttering, "what to do with you?" as he placed his hand in yours, but despite the rather rhetorical question, there was a fondness to his tone. you pulled vil towards you, one hand going to rest on his waist while the other laced your fingers together. you expression was quite proud as vil rested his hand on your shoulder, chuckling.

as the song that led to this played softly, you began to lead, spinning with vil slowly. vil let you, relaxing against you as you pulled him closer, chest to chest. you fell back into a lack of conversation, one comfortable as you stared at vil, rather content with just watching him.

you're no expert when it comes to waltzing, but you learned what you could, the basics, from vil for vil, so that he knew he always had a dancing partner who sort of knew what he was doing if you ever found yourselves dancing in front of a crowd. but you guys weren't in front of a crowd (or dressed in stare worthy clothing as you spun). you were just two boyfriends dressed ready for bed, holding each other in the middle of a bedroom and twirling lazily, lacking the professionalism vil would probably have if it was any other setting.

but that's exactly why, because you weren't anywhere else ── you were in his room, where vil let go of that character of confidence he put on in front of everyone else. here, where he leaned his head on your shoulder as you stepped with him and spun again and again.

and while you danced, you stared at him, head tilted enough for you to admire who you held in your arms. you were often told that your second language might as well be praising vil, always there to throw compliments of all kinds at your boyfriend, making sure he knew just how wonderful he was, even if it you didn't actually use words to say it (because you know vil). you're sure you've never once thought vil was anything but beautiful and amazing. even now, you thought vil looked ethereal ── with his hair pulled back, a little messy with the curls under blond strands, and his faced covered in a veil of white he would have to remove when morning comes.

you swore to the seven that he was the prettiest person you'd ever have the chance of meeting (and here you are, holding him, the one who got to see him like this, in what you think is his most beautiful state, although you know he'd argue.)

as the song trailed off into another, you half expected vil to call it a night, saying how you both needed sleep. but he did no such thing, remaining in your grasp. he squeezed your shoulder for a moment when you almost brought the dance to a stop, and he let you continue to twirl him around the room slowly. and you noted to yourself that perhaps he needed this. being his boyfriend, you knew well how busy he'd been, and how hard he often was on himself to be the fairest. (although you would say he already was the fairest one of all.)

as the second song faded into the third, and the third faded into the fourth, and fourth into the fifth, your already lazy waltz turned into something more of a sway in your spot, no longer spinning around the room.

you smiled at him, squeezing his waist softly as you admired him laying his head on your shoulder. you finally broke the music filled silence, whispering so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, "you're so beautiful, vil." (you say, even though the compliment was small compared to the thoughts of just how beautiful he really was, lacking the words that could began to truly express. but you suppose it will have to do.)

vil's sleep schedule was a little off that night, something that rarely, if ever, happened, unsure of how many songs the two of you had danced to. but he lacked any complaints about it ── he thinks he'll let it slide just this once.