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The grand ballroom was alive with music and laughter, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the glittering crowd. And Leona couldn’t wait to leave.
It had been a few years since Leona had attended one of these red-carpeted events. Last one had probably been that Fairy Gala he’d been forced to at NRC. But since The Incident his brother had been butting into his life and kept telling him he had to get back out there. Regardless of Leona’s feelings on the matter. So, here he was. Humoring his brother by attending a stupid Gala that he didn’t even know the purpose of. All just to get him to shut up.
A server passed by with a tray of champagne, and the prince reached out to grab one. He might have to be here, but he never agreed to be sober through it. As he took a long drink from his glass, his eyes scanned the ballroom. When they reached the far corner where some of the standing tables were, he nearly choked.
Because there was the last person he expected to see.
Vil Schoenheit.
He hadn’t seen the man since they’d graduated from NRC. Years had passed, but it was like no time had gone by at all. Vil looked as stunning as ever, maybe even more so, dressed in a sleek black, off-the-shoulder jumpsuit that accentuated every line of his body, his blond-to-purple ombre hair falling in perfect waves. He was the center of attention, as usual, surrounded by admirers, his laugh bright and effortless.
Screw it. He thought as he downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp, the bubbles burning down his throat before he placed the glass down on one of the nearby tables and stormed over in the direction of Vil and his many suitors.
The closer he got, the clearer it became that Vil wasn’t just entertaining the men. He was flirting back with them. The way he threw his head back to laugh at something one of them had said while he placed a hand on another’s shoulder…
The prince suppressed a growl as he approached the table.
Without a word, Leona stepped in, cutting off one of the men mid-sentence.
“Vil. Been a while. How’ve yah been?”
Vil’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before a familiar cool composure settled over his features. He then offered Leona a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes; a practiced expression the lion had seen countless times before.
“Leona,” Vil greeted smoothly, his voice as melodious as ever. “It has been a while. I’ve been well, thank you.”
The men Vil had been talking to glanced between themselves and seemed to sense the shift of the mood in the air. They mumbled a quick excuse to Vil before they backed away from the table and went off into the crowd. Vil’s gaze followed for a moment, then returned to Leona.
“Well, we both know this is not your typical scene. So, what exactly is it that brings you to an event like this?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow. “Aside from ruining my fun, of course.”
Leona clenched his jaw and shrugged. “Wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”
The actor smirked. “I see. Then let me take a guess. You are doing damage control for your reputation after your engagement to that lioness fell through and you went on that drunken tirade on MagiCam. Is that it?”
Leona’s jaw tightened further at Vil’s pointed remark. “Yeah, well. Yah know how it goes. The world loves a good scandal,” the prince replied, his voice laced with sarcasm in an attempt to mask his discomfort.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one, Leona, dearest.” Vil said, his voice sharp as a blade. “Now, care to tell me what this was all about? Did you wish to dredge up old memories, make yourself feel better about what you did, or did you just want to see if you could still get under my skin?”
As he finished his statement, the actor lifted his own glass that had been beside them and downed the rest of his drink.
Leona narrowed his eyes and sneered out a grin. “Nah, nothin’ like that. I was wondering if you’d like to dance.”
Vil’s back went rigid and the prince swore he saw the corner of his eye twitch. He stared at the now empty glass in his hand before he looked back at Leona with a dark glare.
“After everything that happened between us three years ago, you honestly have the gull to come up to me out of the blue and ask me for a dance? Truly?”
The beastman shrugged. “Felt like I owed yah one after everything.”
Vil blinked and his mouth fell open as he let out a harsh laugh in disbelief. “You cannot be serious,” he said, his voice laced with suspicion. “What makes you think I want to dance with you, to begin with?”
“Maybe you don’t,” Leona admitted, his voice low. “But weren’t you the one that always wanted me to come to one of these things with yah?”
The other man hesitated and the lion watched as his gaze searched his face for any sign of deceit. But the prince stayed stoic. Ernest. And, after a moment, Vil let out a soft sigh, his posture relaxing slightly.
“Fine. One dance, Leona,” Vil said, his tone still tinged with bitterness. “But don’t think for a second that it means anything more than that.”
Leona nodded as he extended his hand to Vil. “One dance,” he agreed, his voice steady.
Vil eyed Leona’s outstretched hand before finally taking it, his grip firm yet elegant. Without another word, Leona led Vil to the dance floor, the two of them drawing the eyes of those around them as they moved together to the music. As they danced, the beastman couldn’t help but marvel at how easily they fell into step; the familiar rhythm of their movements bringing back memories of simpler times. The bitterness and anger between them hadn’t faded, but for this brief moment, it was set aside, replaced by a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
As they danced, Vil’s gaze searched his face for something. He wasn’t sure what it was until he saw the corners of the actor’s eyes pinch. “Did you love her?” He asked, his voice now shaking.
Leona flinched inwardly at Vil’s question. He didn’t have an answer. At least not one that would satisfy both Vil and himself. He had tried to move on, tried to get his act together and be the perfect second-in-line prince. But, in the end, it had all been a façade — one that had crumbled spectacularly in front of the world.
The prince worked his jaw and tightened his grip on the other man’s hand. “I tried to.”
Vil’s lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. “So, she was just another casualty of your royal obligations. How utterly repugnant.”
Leona let out a dry laugh and dipped Vil. When they leaned back up together, the beastman pulled him closer than he had been before.
“No, she just wasn’t you,” the lion muttered in Vil’s ear, and he heard the actor inhale sharply.
Leona’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Vil to respond. The tension between them was unbearable; an electric current that seemed to intensify with every step they took on the dance floor. He could barely stand it — the crowded room, the music that had turned grating, the little distance between them that felt like a chasm. But still, Vil said nothing. The actor only moved with the music and allowed Leona to lead.
However, when the song ended, the actor did not let go of Leona’s hand. Instead, he tightened his grip and abruptly turned to pull him off the dance floor. The beastman raised a brow in surprise, but he didn’t resist. Leona allowed the other man to lead him through the throng of other gala guests and, soon, the murmur of voices and the clinking of glasses had faded into the background as they hurried down a dimly lit hallway.
They rounded a corner, and Vil pushed open a door to a small, private bathroom. Once they were inside, Leona took the lead and let go of the actor’s hand to slam the door shut behind them. The sound echoed in the small space. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the beastman locked the door.
The tension in the air thickened as the lock clicked into place. The small, private bathroom suddenly felt even more confined, the space charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Leona turned to face Vil, his breath shallow as he took in the sight of the actor standing there, his expression unreadable, eyes gleaming with something that bordered between anger and desire.
Leona’s ears twitched, the silence between them growing unbearable. “Vil…” he began, his voice low and rough, but he didn’t get a chance to finish.
In two swift steps, Vil closed the distance between them. He grabbed Leona’s face with both hands and crushed their lips together in a kiss that was more desperate than anything else. It was rough — punishing even — as if Vil was trying to pour all of his frustration, his pain, and his longing into one, bruising kiss.
Leona responded with equal fervor. He wrapped his arms around Vil’s waist to hold him close. The kiss was a clash of pent-up frustration and longing. Neither one of them wanted to back down; both of them desperate to feel something real, something that had been lost to them for too long. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath.
Leona’s heart pounded in his chest. “I did love you,” he admitted, his voice rough around the edges.
Vil let out a mirthless laugh, the sound sharp and cutting. “Oh, did you?” The actor pressed his chest against the prince’s and reached up to tangle his fingers in Leona’s hair. “I recall you telling me we had been nothing but casual when you broke up with me,” he said through a bitter purr.
Leona gritted his teeth as Vil’s fingers threaded through his hair, the sensation both familiar and foreign after so many years. The purr in the actor’s voice didn’t help, either. It sent a shiver down his spine. He forced himself to meet Vil’s gaze, the intense violet eyes staring back at him with a mix of bitterness and something else—something raw and wounded.
Leona ran his tongue along his teeth. “You knew that wasn’t true,” he said, his voice rough and strained. “You knew why I said that.”
The actor’s grip on Leona’s hair tightened, his nails grazing the beastman’s scalp as he leaned in closer. “Is that supposed to make those words hurt less?” Vil’s voice was low, laced with venom and pain. “You made your choice, Leona. And you left me to pick up the pieces.”
Leona’s ears flattened. “You said it yerself. You avoid scandal. The second prince being of Sunset Savanna being with a famous man that’s not even a lion beastman woulda made yah far from popular with a lot of people.”
Vil’s laugh was hollow, a sound that echoed painfully in the small space between them. “How little did you think of me? You honestly thought that would matter to me?”
Leona winced at Vil’s words. “Listen,” he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. “I was tryin’ to not drag you down with me, Schoenheit. My reputation already had its own issues I had to fix.”
The actor’s grip on Leona’s hair tightened further as he pressed his body against him. “Drag me down? Do you think so little of me, Leona?” he hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “You might be a prince, but I’m no stranger to pressure, to scrutiny. I’ve dealt with it my entire life. And you… you thought I couldn’t handle it?”
Leona’s ears twitched as he struggled to find the right words. “It wasn’t that,” he hissed out, his tone desperate, as he looked back into Vil’s intense gaze. “You know what I’m trying to say.”
“Yes. I do,” Vil said as he brought his other hand up to swirl his finger around the fabric of Leona’s shirt. “And what I’m trying to do is explain to you how moronic you were.”
Leona’s breath hitched as Vil’s fingers traced the fabric of his shirt, the light touch sending a shiver down his spine. “Fine,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I was a damn fool. Is that what yah want me to say?”
Vil’s eyes narrowed, “It’s a start. Now tell me what you are going to do about it now that you’ve drudged all of this up.”
Leona’s jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He heard the way Vil’s shook and saw the way the man’s eyes appeared glassier even in the dim light.
The beastman took a deep breath, “You tell me.”
Vil blinked a few times before he pulled back and looked at Leona with confusion. “What?”
“I could tell yah what it is I want, but that’s not what you want, yeah? Yer sayin’ you didn’t get a choice. So, I’m giving you one. What do you want from me after this, Schoenheit?”
Vil stared at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing and unreadable. Then, slowly, he let go of Leona’s hair and stepped back, creating a small but palpable distance between them.
“Fine. I will give you one option, then. You leave here with me. We leave this gala together. And then we’ll give this a try. For real. No more hiding. No more excuses. We try to have something real regardless of what the expectations are for you. It’s either that, or you let me leave on my own and never approach me again. Which will it be?”
Leona took a deep breath. He knew the gravity of what Vil was asking — the significance of the choice he was being given. It was more than just leaving the gala together; it was a commitment to something real, something they had never allowed themselves to fully explore before.
Something he’d never allowed them to experience.
The beastman locked eyes with the actor. He could see the pain in those violet eyes, the vulnerability that Vil tried so hard to hide behind his usual cool composure. For all his bravado, Leona knew the actor was taking a risk too—opening himself up to the possibility of being hurt again.
But there was also hope in Vil’s gaze, a flicker of something that made Leona’s chest tighten. The actor was giving him a chance, one last opportunity to make things right. And for the first time in a long while, Leona realized he wanted that too—more than anything.
He stepped closer, closing the distance that Vil had created between them, his hand reaching out to gently cup the side of Vil’s face. The actor didn’t pull away, but Leona could feel the tension in his body, the way his breath hitched at the contact.
“I’ll leave with you,” Leona said, his voice low and filled with conviction. “No more hiding, no more excuses. I’ll give this a real shot, Schoenheit.”
Vil searched his face, the uncertainty and doubt clear in his eyes. But after a moment, he let out a shaky breath and nodded. He then brought his hand up to rest it on Leona’s cheek. “You’re only getting one shot to get this right, Leona. So get it right.”
The prince pressed his cheek against Vil’s palm, “I’m plannin’ to.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence while Leona absorbed what just happened. He was sure Vil was doing the same. But, after some time, the prince reached down to grab Vil’s hand. He then pulled away and nodded towards the door. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
Vil took a deep breath, before giving a curt nod. “Let’s go.”
Leona unlocked the door and they stepped out into the hallway. The sounds of the gala drifted closer as they reapproached the ballroom. But neither of them paid any attention to it as they walked side by side, their hands brushing against each other with each step.
When they reached the exit, Leona held the door open for Vil, the cool night air washing over them as they stepped outside. As they walked down the steps and onto the path leading away from the grand building, Leona hesitated for just a moment before he reached out to take Vil’s hand in his own. He half-expected Vil to pull away, but instead, the actor’s fingers curled around his and held on tight.
And for the first time in a long while, Leona felt like he was finally moving in the right direction.