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Dusk fell over Costa del Sol, but the myriad torches lighting the beach and the nearby island burned bright. Stars twinkled into the inky black as the moon began its journey through the heavens anew. But someone was missing from the festivities. Two someones. The first hadn't been missed. The tall man in the red sailor suit went off on his own and few so much as glanced his way. The Miqo'te lass in the purple-striped vest, however, caused a stir in her departure.
D'rena followed the long-strided footprints. If Cid was going to close the Ironworks and pay them to attend the Moonfire Faire, then the least that idiot can do is suffer with her. She swore her hands shook from withdrawal, having not so much as touched a screwdriver. To feel it in her hands. To twist it gently after it slid gently into the groove of a screw-
She slapped herself. She's there to relax. She's paid to relax. And godsdammit, she's going to relax. But she's not relaxing alone. She walked up the slope that climbed up Bloodshore, the tracks vanishing as they led onto the grass. She'll try the edge of the cliff. A higher vantage point should make all the difference, darkness be damned.
She kept the cliff to her right as she climbed, stealing gazes to her left, looking for her quarry, and to her right, seeing if she can discern anything going down at the fairegrounds. She can't. After a some minutes of climbing, she spotted him in the dark, sitting on the ground. At least, she thought it was him. Blond hair, red sailor suit, general aura of arrogance. Yep, it's Nero.
"What are you doing up here?" D'rena asked, drawing his attention. She could barely make out his face in the darkness, but his third eye was unmistakable.
"Far easier to get a view of the ocean from up here than down there," he said.
D'rena cocked her head. "It's the same view down there, isn't it?"
"No." He waved her over. "It's too dark now, but on the ferry, I noticed the coral reefs passing by. From above, we'd see them if it were daylight. It must be a marvelous view."
"I haven't spent much time in the area, but the Ruby Sea was beautiful," she said as she approached, sitting on a boulder next to him. He was still taller than she was. "I should take you there sometime. And while we're there," she leaned forward and grinned devilishly at him, "we can scavange some magitek."
"You know just what to say to a man, don't you?" Nero said, grinning, but still looking ahead.
"To you. But I think we're of a like mind." A breeze rolled through. D'rena shivered, thankful her vest was buttoned up, for as little as it did for her extremities.
"The closest mind to mine is Garlond's," Nero looked at her. "And any day now, I'll prove mine superior."
"Not in that way," D'rena said. "We think alike. We take the same joy in inventing for its own sake. And Cid is so easy to fool."
"Indeed. Even that fool should catch on by now."
"I think he gives us the benefit of the doubt." D'rena shrugged. "Or he knows we'll get him later, so take his lumps now and maybe placate us."
"A shame. I was hoping to drive him mad after a year."
D'rena snickered. "He's not mad, just paranoid."
Nero returned the laugh. Their gaze into the other's eyes lingered overlong. D'rena swallowed as Nero leaned in as she felt her face begin to burn. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips and-
BOOM
It was a single firework going off in the distance. And then a second, then third followed. D'rena didn't flinch- didn't move- and waited in vain for a kiss that never came. She opened her eyes with a quizzical look on her face. Nero was looking forward again, gazing slightly upwards at the fireworks lighting the sky. He was entranced, enthralled, even, like he had discovered an ancient Allagan relic. D'rena scowled at Nero, angry that he'd dare to deny her her first kiss.
She sighed, and with her anger left with her breath. She took in the sea air and watched the fireworks. They only come once a year, after all. They can always kiss later.
"I haven't seen this sort of pyrotechnic," Nero said, gaze locked on the show. "We have them in Garlemald, but never the kind to shoot into the air. It was largely slow-burning coatings that we would wave at parades. They were never too popular since the incident where someone's glove caught fire. Or so my father told me. Sometimes, they would adorn His Radiance's seat. But nothing quite like this. I'll have to give this one to the savages."
At some point, D'rena stopped listening. She merely leaned against his side, resting her head on his arm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. They watched the fireworks until long after the last one blinked out.