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A lock of hair falls across her face, tousled by the wind out on the balcony. It takes way more willpower than he wants to admit to keep himself from brushing it back and tucking it behind her ear. He realizes he’s staring and looks away quickly, probably too quickly. Shit, she totally knows he was staring at her now. He glances back at her to find her smiling at him gently. The notes of a slow piano song wind their way out onto the balcony where they’re standing. Soul looks at her, takes in her black dress and the way her hair is curled around her shoulders, and before he really registered what he’s doing, he’s holding out his hand to her, and she’s setting down her champagne glass and laughing softly.
He sweeps her around the balcony, holding her close, swaying to the rhythm of the song, and brushes that piece of hair back behind her ear, his hand lingering by her face, brushing against her cheek, before he sweeps her away in a twirl and pulls her back to him. She lands against him, and he guides her through the dance, the song in the background soft and passionate, reminding him of all of the reasons why he loves her, and then it hits the chorus again, and he loves this song, the way the melodies combine into something tender and heartfelt, they way it gets stuck in his head, just like she does.
He sweeps her into another twirl, and watches the way she smiles when her skirt flies out at her ankles, and then she’s back flush against him her delicate hand on the small of his back, the other one holding his, and he could do this forever. The song winds down, the beautiful melody fading away into the night, and their dance slows, swaying and turning to a gently halt, in the middle of the balcony. The rest of the party inside forgotten by both of them.
A blush stains her cheeks pink, and she meets his eyes, and once again, before he can think twice about what he’s doing, he’s lowering his mouth to hers, and kissing her, a chaste, gentle brush of lips. And it seems she melts against him, and keeps on kissing him. Her hand cupping his face, his hands around her waist, and he doesn't want to stop this, but he can hear other people now, hear conversations grinding to a halt, people staring. He gently pulls away, and looks at his Maka, and before he can say the only thing he’s never told her, there’s applause from the main dance hall, and it seems half the school knew what they didn’t. He blushes, and slips his arm around her waist, drawing her close to him as they head back inside to the people waiting for them.