The thoughts of responsibility, of our purpose together, of saving the world, melt away in an instant. He gently sweeps a curl of hair behind my ear, and tilts my chin upwards.
"May I have this dance?"
I swallow and nod shyly. He rests one hand firmly at my waist, and holds mine in the other.
He leads me to the gorgeous swell of the quartet's tango. The marble dance floor becomes ours, the other dancers and important officials we should have been talking to vanishing into a blur. We dance, and all is at peace.
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Nothing Haunted
Ghostly's rambles and/or daily journal entries. Now featuring poorly written universe details, story-lines, and character designs.
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