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Your head swayed in motion with the rhythm of the song, ignoring your steps among the chipper string instruments in the background. Your fingers interlocked with a rigid hand larger and slightly rougher than yours. You find your balance on your nude stiletto heels. A warm hand rests on your left shoulder blade, firmly keeping you near as your left hand lays on your partner's broad shoulder. Glancing at the man holding you, you find Ignis smiling at you with those gorgeous and relaxed emerald orbs behind glass frames. He rarely smiled on duty, but with you, he could ease his worries simply by your accompaniment.
You were to learn the waltz for the upcoming royal ball as a member of your aristocratic family. With no experience, you learned from Noctis that Ignis could give you a proper pedagogy and aid you in the ballroom. Your face flushed at the thought of dancing, hand-in-hand, with the brunet, but the image became a reality. Here you are, prancing in the glorious and spacious ballroom with the man who makes your heart flutter and throb with his presence.
Upon witnessing your aloofness, the spectacle-wearing brunet chuckles, ”Are you enjoying yourself? We haven't begun our lessons and yet, you're already taking a liking to the waltz?”
With burning cheeks, you answered meekly, ”Yes... I like being this close to you...”
At your words, scarlet flourishes onto his cheeks, flustering him. No other person could dissolve the brass mask of Ignis to that of a ripe tomato. You were the exception. Clearing his throat, he looks away in embarrassment then steadies his beating heart, accepting your answer, ”Well, I certainly feel the same towards you.”
You felt your hearly fluttering away, your body melting into a mushy pile of happiness, at that sentence.
Deterring the subject, Ignis resumes the lesson with his instructions, ”Watch my movements. I will step forward with my left foot first, to the side with my right, then place my left foot together with my right. You must follow by stepping back with your right foot, then mimicking me with the opposite foot. Do you understand?”
Slowly blinking, you allowed the information to process in your mind. It would've helped if you used google to research how waltzes looked like beforehand. You had no clue what he meant.
Your puzzling expression signaled him your confusion. Nodding, he starts, ”We'll begin at a steady pace. Shall we then?”
Keeping time with the music, he counted out loud with his left foot forward, to which you stumble back with your right foot. He sidestepped with his right foot, and you sluggishly followed with your left. Closing his feet together, you manage to draw yours near, scraping the bottom of your heel against the smooth marble ground. Your face burned in shame as you directed your eyes to the side, avoiding the brunet's gaze. His chest convulsed as he released an inward chuckle. Sniffling, he laughs once more and regains his composure, ”Excuse me.”
Despite being an aristocrat, you weren't as ladylike as your other relatives. You would rather train with swords and spears than learn table manners.
Smiling, he releases his hold of you, ”Perhaps we should begin with simulating the basic steps first?”
”Yeah...”
Standing beside you, he teaches you the proper way to hold your partner. You understood the proper placements of your partner, but you couldn't grasp the movements of the waltz. His hand rests on your back, and you feel his lingering warmth tingling on a section of your spine. You straighten your posture and he tells you to set your right foot back, leveling your weight at the center of both feet. Once he drew his left leg with his right, you followed in pursuit and watched him sidestep to his left. You mimicked him throughout the entire process without any problem. When you understood the flow of the movements, he allows you to return to the starting position of the waltz with you in his arms.
Your heart thumped louder than the violins and violas in the background. In one swift motion, you could plant a kiss on the man. Every fiber of your being screamed when his scrumptuous lips came to view. Oh, how would it feel to press your lips against his lush ones? Would the satisfying electric shock course through your body?
His words snapped you back to reality. Once more, you followed his steps but clumsily stumbled in the process, trying to predict his moves and ultimately failing. The two of you continued the basic step sequence and formed a square around the ballroom. After more practice, you began noting the timing of the footwork. Feeling the rhythm with his helpful counting, you finally managed to waltz with some difficulty.
”Imagine your feet gliding along the down beats as I count.” he advises.
A few more box waltzes around the room, and you've accustomed yourself to the dance, memorizing the correct moments of when to take a step. A glistening smile plasters onto your lips as you watch your feet gracefully push backwards and sideways. Looking up at Ignis, you meet his returning grin and feel your heart throbbing at the genuine sight. His dainty and softening emerald orbs, the way the corners of his mouth lifted, those adorable beauty marks on his left cheek, everything about him, melted your being into a puddle. You could lose yourself in his genial sun rays.
”Impressive. You've become a splendid dancer in these past moments.”
”That's because I have a great instructor.” you beamed.
Rouge colors his fair cheeks as he deters the subject with a cough, ”Now, I will twirl you at count four. You will need to let go of your left hand, and go under our hands in a clockwise fashion. Are you willing to do that?”
Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you nod, ”Yes. I can try.”
”Good.”
At count four, he releases his hold of your shoulder and hoists your interlocked hands above. You slowly turned under your intertwined appendages and found yourself approaching his torso. Again, you lightly grasp onto his shoulder and resumed the box waltzes. On the next fourth count, he gently twirls you. This time, you rotated too quickly and began losing balance. The heels of your shoes click-clacked multiple times and your ankle bent inwards. You feel the world spinning around you and your weight pivoting towards the ground. Your feet soared into the air as you flailed your arms, bracing yourself for the impact of the hard, freezing, tiled floor. Closing your eyes, you feel time at a standstill and miraculously, no harsh landing.
Opening your eyes, you meet Ignis' worried gaze. His emerald orbs shook with anxiety beneath those frames. The hand that gripped your back squeezed and his breathing increased from the dread of your injury. In this everlasting moment, every detail of his gorgeous face came to focus. You found yourself lost in those evergreen pools.
Elevating your body upright, he maintains his grasp on you, ”Are you alright?”
You nodded.
”Thank the Astrals,” he heaves in alleviation. ”If you had gotten an injury, I... I wouldn't know what to do with myself...”
”Thank you, Ignis.” you meekly smiled.
Turning back at you, the corners of his mouth lifts from relief. Tousling your hair affectionately, he gleams, ”I'm glad that you are alright... Perhaps we should call it a day with practice?”
With long strides, he heads for the exit, leaving you in the center of the eloquent and grand ballroom. His retreating figure steadily escapes your reach, but you wanted him to stay. Your heavy heart plummeted to the marble flooring, wishing to tell him something that you've pent up inside your chest. If you let him go now, you wouldn't be able to find another opportunity to vent your emotions.
Inhaling, you shout his name, pursuing him, ”Ignis! Wait!”
Ceasing his movements, the brunet swivels around to face you. In one sweep, you immediately press your lips against his, standing on your tiptoes through your heels. His eyes widened at your abrupt action. Those moist and lush lips felt more velvety and smooth than you imagined. You wouldn't mind locking your lips with his again. The rush of euphoria and triumph overwhelms your senses. When you finally drew back, his face had exploded into a burning scarlet color lightly matching yours.
Regaining your composure, you beam at him, ”Thank you for teaching and saving me.”
His mouth hung agape, trying to find the strength to speak again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't erase the feeling of your lips upon his. The sweet and tangy sensation that ran through his body. The soft puffs of breath that gently hit his skin. The supple and delicate touch of your lips. Everything. That warmth occupied his thoughts, causing him to fall into speechlessness.
At that moment, the double doors opened, revealing a muscular brunet in a gray tank top. The creaking of the burgundy doors caused your muscles to stiffen. Ignis' friend interrupts, smiling as he hollers, ”Hey Iggy! You done teaching yet? Let's go get lunch together!”
Clearing his throat, Ignis fixes the collar of his dress shirt and pushes his frames onto the bridge of his nose. Little did you know, that was his first kiss. Flustered, his face burned a deep rouge and steadily dissipates. He takes a few deep breaths to compose himself before answering.
”He's ready!” you peered at Gladiolus from behind Ignis. The spectacle-wearing brunet turns back to you, but you grinned and pushed him towards his friend, ”Go have fun. I'll see you next time!”
With confident strides, the clicking of your heels followed you as you beam at the other male. It took all of your willpower to prevent yourself from skipping in glee towards the exit.
The two males watched you leave, a broad smile across the glasses-wearing brunet. Upon witnessing his friend's unusual gawking, Gladiolus smirks knowingly. He didn't need words or an explanation for the universal sign of hearts fluttering from his friend's eyes. His smile said everything.
”Looks like I interrupted something.”
”No need to exaggerate. We were just finished with our lessons anyways,” the smile on Ignis' face never left. He couldn't efface himself from the joy bursting in his chest.
Through the clumsy footwork and uncertainty, your skills improved as much as your relationship with your beloved spectacle-wearing brunet.