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Dimitri is fairly sure that Annette and Felix are dating. He sees the two of them together almost every day, sitting together in the dining hall or the library with their heads bowed together as they talk to each other in low tones. Dimitri pays more attention to them than he should, probably, but he can’t help the little flare of jealousy that spikes in chest whenever he sees Annette’s face light up at something Felix has said.
The realization that he has a crush on Annette slips in slowly, like water wearing away at rock over time. Dimitri just thinks she’s nice to spend time with and that she’s endearingly sweet and also she’s very cute and oh, he likes her, doesn’t he? Once he recognizes his feelings for what they are, it’s hard to ignore how much he wants to kiss her and hold her hand and take her on dates, but—
But Felix is his friend, and Dimitri wants him to be happy, so he resolves not to say anything about it. It’s fine, he tells himself. I’ll just never say it aloud, and everything will be fine.
It gets harder for him to ignore it as the semester drags on.
Sylvain hosts a party the weekend before spring break. Dimitri has never been big on parties, especially not the loud and crazy kind that Sylvain likes to throw, so he’s on the fence about attending, until Sylvain tells him, “Annette’s gonna be there,” with a wink, and Dimitri’s face just burns with embarrassment.
“Is it really so obvious?” he asks in a hoarse voice.
“Only to those of us who really know you,” replies Sylvain with a casual shrug.
Dimitri swallows thickly. Felix knows him. Does Felix know that I’ve been pining after his girlfriend for months? he wonders, and resolves to do a better job of hiding his feelings.
He goes to the party anyways, because he’s a sucker for punishment.
Sure enough, he is quick to spot Annette and Felix dancing together, and Dimitri has to admit that they make an attractive couple. I should be happy for Felix, he tells himself, not for the first time, and goes to get a drink—some mysterious mix that Sylvain has made in a red Solo cup that Dimitri probably shouldn’t trust but drinks anyways. He hangs out in a corner, chats with Ingrid and Claude, and tries to ignore the urge to stare at the way Annette smiles as she dances closer to Felix.
Halfway through his second cup, he’s startled by Lysithea slipping under his arm as she moves past him to steal Claude’s drink. Dimitri doesn’t know her very well, only that she’s close with Claude and a frequent study partner of Annette’s, but he is happy to have her join their conversation. Her scathing wit reminds him of a bit of Felix.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Felix is the next to appear. With him comes Annette, who is giggling hysterically about something.
Felix isn’t that funny, thinks Dimitri sullenly. Is he?
He forces himself to smile at Felix, then Annette is squeezing in between the two of them and snaking one arm around Dimitri in an awkward sort of side hug as she says, “Hey, I wasn’t sure if you were gonna come. I’m glad you’re here!”
Dimitri feels his face heat in an immediate blush. “I, uh... Sylvain asked me.”
“Yeah, he mentioned.” Annette beams. Her fingers brush against Dimitri’s arm, and Dimitri tries not to hyperfocus on the touch.
“Annie!” Claude’s greeting is bright and boisterous. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Ooh, yes please, something sweet!”
While Claude disappears into the kitchen, Annette pulls Dimitri and Ingrid into a huddle. “How strong does Claude mix drinks?” she asks in a stage-whisper. “Will I be in trouble if I drink the entire thing?”
Dimitri imagines plucky little Annette, drunk and even clumsier than usual—in trouble. He can’t help but laugh. “Maybe take small sips,” he suggests.
“It’s not like Claude’ll be offended if you don’t drink it all,” says Ingrid reasonably. “If nothing else, I’ll finish it if you don’t want it.”
Beside them, Felix and Lysithea melt back into the crowd dancing. Dimitri is only vaguely aware of it, his eyes flickering to the side before refocusing on Annette’s face, the curling of her lips into a pleased sort of smile. Before he has the chance to ask about it, Claude returns from the kitchen with another red Solo cup.
He presents it to Annette with a flourish. “One sweet drink for one sweet girl.”
Annette accepts the cup with a laugh. “What a gentleman!” She smiles knowingly at Dimitri, then takes a tiny sip. Her eyes light up. “Oh, it’s good!” she exclaims.
“Don’t sound so surprised now,” grumbles Claude good-naturedly. “I know how to make good drinks.”
“Yes, yes, you’re a master mixologist. I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” teases Annette. She loops her arm through Dimitri’s, turning him around so that they’re facing the makeshift dance-floor in Sylvain’s living room. “Do you dance?” she asks Dimitri.
“Uh,” says Dimitri intelligently, “not well.”
Annette rolls her eyes. “Parties aren’t about dancing well. So long as you can do a side-step that’s more or less on beat, I think that counts.” She pauses, as if waiting for something—only Dimitri isn’t sure what she’s waiting for.
He says nothing.
Suddenly Annette grabs his shoulder and instinctively Dimitri ducks his head towards hers. “Do you see what’s happening?” asks Annette. She sounds delighted.
“Uh,” says Dimitri a second time. He does his best to tear his eyes away from Annette to follow her gaze until he spots Felix doing a side-step that’s more or less on beat. His hands are on Lysithea’s hips.
“Finally!” whispers Annette, her lips grazing the shell of Dimitri’s ear. “I’ve been giving Felix advice on how to talk to Lysithea for months now!”
Dimitri stares at her, sure he must have misheard. “Huh? But isn’t he... Aren’t the two of you dating?”
Annette’s eyes fly comically wide. “What!” she exclaims, then she’s laughing like Dimitri just told her the funniest joke she’s ever heard. “No way! We’re just friends.” She bites her lip, tilts her head to one side, and smiles, a faint blush painting her cheeks red. “I’m definitely single.”
“Oh.” Dimitri’s brain is working overtime to figure out what his means for his crush. “So, um. So…” Probably he shouldn’t have drank the entire mystery drink that Sylvain gave him. Eventually, he mouth settles on asking, “So would you like to dance?”
Annette beams. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you ask me that.” Slipping her hand into Dimitri’s, she tugs him out to the dance floor.
Dancing with Annette is easy. Her sense of timing and grace are better than his, Dimitri can tell, but she brings him along with her naturally. When she twirls into his side and throws an arm around his shoulders, Dimitri almost feels like he’s a good dancer too.
As one songs fades into the next, Dimitri finally finds the courage to put his hands on Annette’s hips. It feels more intimate like this, especially when Annette is looking so intently at him, like he’s the only thing she can see. The only thing she wants to see. Dimitri feels helpless but to gaze back at her.
He draws on that well of courage inside of him, while it’s still strong. “Annette.” There’s no reason not to ask. He wants to ask so badly—has for months—and the night has been going so well. “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Like, as a date?”
Annette’s answering smile is dazzling. Going up on tiptoe, she leans to press a light kiss to Dimitri’s cheek, then tells him, “You know? I would like that very much.”