Dancing Dom

The night at the Ashton estate was dazzling, with its grand displays and the sheer opulence of the event. But amidst all the splendor, my thoughts were consumed by Dove. Her costume, with its gray and opalescent hues, was striking, but it was her presence that truly captivated me. I had made a mess of things between us recently and needed to make amends.
 
I approached her, the weight of our recent argument heavy in my mind. I told her I was sorry, acknowledging that I should have listened to her. The pain I had caused was evident in her eyes, and I knew it would take more than just words to mend things. When I asked if she would dance with me, I hoped it would be a small step toward repairing our relationship.
 
As we took to the dance floor, the world around us seemed to fade away. The music softened, the crowd’s murmurs became distant, and all I could focus on was her. The way she looked at me, the subtle shifts in her expression—they all conveyed a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher. I could sense her hesitation, the lingering hurt from our argument. But as we danced, I wanted to show her that I was here for her, to stand beside her not as a mere protector but as someone who genuinely cared.
 
Every glance at her seemed to stretch time. The way her lashes fluttered, the curve of her lips—everything about her was mesmerizing. Despite the tension, there was something softer in her gaze, a hint of the affection she wasn’t ready to fully reveal. I held her a bit closer, hoping the dance would convey my feelings: that I was sorry, that I wanted to make things right, and that I truly cared for her.
 
As the dance continued, I felt a subtle change in her demeanor. She began to move more naturally, her tension easing just a little. It was a small shift, but it gave me hope. I wanted to show her that I was committed to standing by her, no matter the obstacles.
 
When the music came to an end, the spell of the moment seemed to break, and the noise of the ballroom returned. Dove stepped back, her composure regained. To my surprise, she handed me an egg, suggesting a playful prank on Lord Frost. It was a small gesture, but it was something—a sign that she was willing to interact with me, even if she wasn’t ready to fully let go of her reservations.
 
As she walked away, I couldn’t help but watch her, my thoughts consumed by how time seemed to slow whenever I was with her. I knew I would need to be patient, to wait for her to fully trust me again. But for now, the fact that she was willing to dance with me and share a playful moment was enough. It was a small, yet significant step toward finding my place by her side, no matter how long it took for her to see it.
 
Dominic Sterling