Chapter Text
“Are you nervous?” Annette asked Mercedes while she adjusted the hem of her costume. “You’re on first, after all.”
Mercedes toyed with the ribbons of her pointe shoes, tying and untying them over and over. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”
Annette had known Mercedes von Martritz for long enough that she knew that was a lie. However, she wasn’t going to push it, not when they were this close to performing.
“I really hope I don’t screw up…” Annette mumbled. Ever since somehow scoring the lead role in Manon, it felt like she was living in some kind of dream. So, it was only a matter of time before something made her finally wake up.
“I’m telling you, Felix. That car was an archaeological dig of frappuccino cups. How does she drink so many frappuccinos?” Sylvain’s voice echoed as he and Felix came around the corner.
“I told you that you didn’t want to clean her car…” Mercedes sighed.
Annette’s face burned bright red, even though the layers upon layers of stage makeup and shimmer that Yuri had caked onto her skin. “It’s really not that many frapps!”
“I take it back… Felix, you’re my best friend again.” Sylvain wrapped his arms around Felix’s torso, lifting him off of the ground while Felix pouted.
“Please stop hugging me.”
“But we’re best friends again , Felix.”
“Are we done horsing around back here?” Seteth, the ballet master, asked. He somehow managed to slip backstage without anyone noticing him. Annette could only envy his silent dancer’s feet, especially when for years her uncle called her an elephant every time she landed a jump.
“Yes, sir,” the four said in unison, like a group of children getting scolded.
Felix grabbed Annette’s hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles as the remaining dancers filed into the wings. She watched as Seteth conversed with the stage-snuggied Linhardt, probably coordinating the last few pieces before the show started.
“I feel like I’m sweating buckets,” Annette sighed. “Felix, am I moist?”
“Please don’t say the word moist .” Felix looked both ways, then pressed a small kiss to the top of her very hairsprayed head. “You’re fine.”
Annette nodded. “Right. I’m graceful. I’m an elegant slice of daylight.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for joining us here tonight for this year’s Spring Charity Showcase. Our dancers have worked hard to provide you with top notch entertainment…” Seteth’s voice droned on and on, so much so that Annette could barely pay attention to any word he was saying. She was a bundle of nerves, and she was pretty sure that even if someone spoke directly to her she wouldn’t notice.
“—enjoy our show!” Seteth’s voice was drowned out by the sound of applause. The lights dimmed and the curtains closed once more.
It was showtime.
Felix and Annette watched as Mercedes and Sylvain tiptoed through their beautiful, delicate piece. Somehow Sylvain had pulled off the angelic look, even next to the blessing of a woman that was Mercedes von Martritz. Their flowing white costumes swirled around them through the dreamlike orchestration, ending with Mercedes in a split in Sylvain’s arms.
Bernadetta, the stage hand that Annette had barely ever seen, yanked on the ropes to pull the curtains to a close, which signaled the others to start rearranging the set. She saw Ignatz and Lindhardt, wearing his tech-black Snuggie, scramble to move the scenery into the right positions.
When the curtain opened again, Marianne and Dedue began their pas de deux. Their dance was full of daring lifts and dips, showcasing how delicate Marianne was, and how strong and dynamic Dedue could be. They danced elegantly, pure poetry in motion. For a moment, Annette even wondered how Marianne could keep perfect composure, even while being thrown that high into the air.
Next up was Dorothea and Petra, performing an eerily in-sync dance for noon. They were dressed and styled exactly the same, probably playing off the fact that noon is the exact middle, and casts no shadow. Seeing the two dance, Annette couldn’t quite understand why she received the lead over Dorothea. Every move she made was stunning. Just watching her made Annette feel small.
Then, it was time for Felix and Annette. She readied herself in position, waiting for the curtain to open and the music to start.
Edelgard’s violin sounded, followed by Lysithea’s flute and Lorenz’s oboe. Annette made her way on stage, flowing flawlessly through her turns and steps. The white and gold of her stage costume flounced around her, making her look positively radiant.
She completed a pirouette, which faced her back towards the audience. There, she saw him: Gustave. He was sitting in the front row between Rhea and Dimitri, a heavy frown on his face.
He came to one of her shows? No, he probably came because it was the Spring Charity Showcase. It was one of the biggest events in all of Garreg Mach. Anyone who was anyone was there.
Before she could utterly embarrass herself on stage, however, the shift in the music snapped her back to attention.
Felix flowed onto the stage like inky black night himself, the Grape Nut face long shed for something akin to hunger. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her, like he was born to chase her and claim her as his own.
Her heart raced in her chest as she made it through the next series of steps, his hands tracing the lines of her body. If they weren’t on stage, she was sure she’d just kiss him there and then. Beautiful Felix, marvelous Felix. She was made to touch him, to dance with him.
He went for the lift, and with the lights of the stage and the metric ton of glitter on her skin, she felt like she was flying, like the entire audience existed only for her. There was a gasp from the crowd, and she sunk back down, sliding against Felix’s chest before falling into the dip.
When they finished, the audience roared. Annette watched as Dimitri stood from his chair, with Gustave reluctantly following. A standing ovation… And yet, Annette didn’t need her father’s approval to know that she and Felix owned that stage.
“Shit, you two are going to make us look soooo bad!” Hilda whispered as Felix and Annette returned to the wings.
Claude clapped her on the back, leading her towards their positions. “Don’t sell yourself short, Hilda. We’ve got this.”
Mercedes rose from the floor and wrapped Annette in a vice-grip hug. She smelled of vanilla and lavender and sweat and hairspray. “You were beautiful!”
“So were you!” Annette giggled. “Was it really that good?”
“Annie, do not put yourself down now.”
Felix wrapped an arm around Annette’s waist as Claude and Hilda’s music started, the deep, sultry sounds of Night. Annette’s heart was pounding louder than Caspar’s drum, taken with the subtle touch.
Hilda and Claude’s dance raced to a crescendo, then slipped quietly to the end. The curtain closed once more, signaling the end of the performance.
—
“We killed it out there!” Annette shouted, before spider-monkey hopping onto Felix’s back. Her entire body still buzzed with adrenaline, which almost prevented her from feeling the heavy fatigue in her limbs.
The added weight of Annette on his back made Felix sigh, but he couldn’t say no to her, not when she was that adorable. “We did.”
Felix was never a touchy person, but with Annette it just felt right. He wanted her close to him, wanted to see her smile every damn minute of every fucking day. A loose hair of hers fell down his forehead and tickled his nose, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mildly annoyed.
“Do you want to shower before going to Zanado’s?” Felix asked.
“We could save time and—”
“Annette.” Gustave’s voice cut through the lobby, his storm-colored eyes locked on hers.
She swallowed, but the lump she expected to find in her throat wasn’t there. “Dad?”
Annette slid down Felix’s back and landed on the floor with only a slight wobble. Felix slipped behind her, his mouth already curled in a heavy scowl. There was no way that he’d let Gustave ruin this night for them—for Annette. But before Felix could throw the first verbal punch, Gustave extended a bouquet of pink roses and lilies in Annette’s direction.
“You did a great job, Annette,” he said. His eyes darted away from hers, the floral arrangement hanging between them. This was the olive branch, that little bit of acknowledgement she had searched for her entire life, and now that it was here…
“Thank you.” She grabbed the bouquet and brought it up to her nose. Its perfumed scent filled her with a sickly sort of nostalgia. Her mom used to get her flowers like these after recitals when she was little, but when handed to her by her father, they took on an entirely different meaning. “But I can’t accept these.”
“‘Nette…” Felix mumbled.
“What do you mean you can’t accept them?” Gustave asked. The cellophane wrapping crinkled in his grasp.
“I mean I can’t, Dad.” Annette tried to smile, but it didn’t reach anywhere near her eyes. “Come on, Felix. Let’s go.”
Felix gave Gustave one last glance before he and Annette walked off towards the exit. Gustave didn’t try to follow.
—
“I can’t believe we’ve made it through another Showcase,” Dorothea said as she raised her cosmo in the air, the liquid dangerously close to sloshing over the sides of the glass.
Annette looked into her violently pink drink, her body still thrumming with adrenaline, and possibly bits of glitter that she had huffed while Yuri painted her down.
So much had changed since the first time she came to Zanado’s. Back then Felix could barely dance with her, and yet he didn’t run away when she nearly set her kitchen on fire and dumped water on him in an attempt to cheer him up.
Now he sat next to her with an actual smile on his face. He didn’t look like he wanted to run. Glenn’s ghost was now a quiet observer instead of the elephant in the room. He looked happy . He was happy.
Annette rested her head against Felix’s shoulder, her hair falling in soft waves around her face.
“What?” Felix asked.
“Nothing.” She smiled. “I just love you.”
“Get a room, you two!” Hilda shouted as she slid into the booth next to Annette, pressing her further into his side. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was cut off by the sound of Byleth’s voice cutting through the music of the bar.
“Hilda, nice job on the leg,” Byleth said.
“She had my hand in a death grip the whole time,” Dimitri explained.
Hilda rolled her eyes. “Byleth, do you have no confidence in me?”
“No comment.” Byleth turned towards the bar. “Drinks?”
“Rum and Coke, please.” Dimitri came by the table, though he didn’t yet sit down. “Felix, Annette. You did a fantastic job.”
“And I didn’t?” Hilda and Dorothea said in sync, both equally as scandalized. Dimitri’s face flushed bright red. He stammered a few times, clearly trying to dig himself out of that hole.
“Thanks, big bro.” Annette chuckled, the cocktail already making her head feel light and airy. Things were good. Maybe, for once in her life, they could stay that way.
The bar door opened, revealing Mercedes and Sylvain. Both still had damp hair, though Sylvain’s was starting to dry and stick up stubbornly in places.
“Someone just got laid…” Hilda mumbled under her breath, which turned Dimitri another six shades of scarlet.
By the time the pair reached the table, Byleth and Ingrid were back with drinks and Marianne had returned from the bathroom. The remaining dancers, orchestra members, and tech crew mingled around the bar, each spread in their own little cliques.
“Sorry we ran a little late,” Mercedes said. She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Traffic.”
Annette raised her eyebrow. “Traffic.”
Sylvain started talking, but all the noise in the bar faded into the background when Felix looked at Annette. Her stormy-sea eyes, the freckles that danced across her nose, even though she always tried to hide them. Goddess, he never thought he’d be in love, and yet here he was with the world in his arms.
“Let’s grab some air for a second,” he said, nearly sweeping Annette off of her feet.
She followed him out to the bar’s back patio area. It was late, but the fairy lights draped around the pavilion kept the darkness at bay. They sat down on the edge of a small fountain where a few cigarette buds lay at their feet.
“You okay?” She asked as she tangled her fingers in his.
“I’m fine.” Felix frowned. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
Annette allowed herself to relax for a moment. Everything was okay. “It’s kind of romantic out here, with the fountain and all.”
“I wouldn’t really know.”
“You’re way more romantic than you think you are, Felix Fraldarius.” Annette booped Felix on the nose, making him blush. “Hey, do you have any change?”
“Uh, maybe?” He rooted around in his wallet until he found a single penny, then handed it to her. “Are you planning on making a wish?”
“We’re gonna make a wish. Hold my hand.” Annette stood up and wrapped her hand around his, the penny pressed between their palms.
“What are we wishing for?” Felix asked.
Annette paused, her pink-drink addled thoughts rolling over her like a white-out winter storm. “I don’t know. Just. For things to always be like this.”
Felix nodded. “On three?”
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!” They tossed the coin together, their voices blending as one. The penny made a big splash, then settled down to the bottom with the other loose change from patrons past.
It grew quiet for a moment, the sounds of the fountain and the Spring air the only thing to remind them that this was real, that they existed. Their eyes met, amber on blue-green, two hearts beating as one.
Annette closed the gap between them, sealing her lips on his. His hands caught her waist as she threw her arms around his neck, as if she’d die if she couldn’t touch every last bit of his skin. She felt every breath from his lungs, every I love you that had ever rolled off his tongue like the sweetest frappuccino she had ever ordered.
If she could spend eternity in the arms of Felix Hugo Fraldarius, she could die happy.
Four months ago, Felix’s life was still upside down. He carried so much pain in his chest that he thought that he’d never live a day without that ache. But then he met Annette, and she was like sunshine, and somehow she melted all the ice inside of him, and somehow he was whole again.
He rested his chin on the top of her head, his focus on the sea of stars above them. His voice was so soft, barely above a whisper, but she could hear it all the same.
“I will always love you, Annette.”
And what more could she ask for than that?