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River stood with Izzy at the edge of the dance floor, his arm loose around her shoulders, watching Kit and Stephen sway through their first dance.
It wasn’t showy. Just right. Chosen carefully — the way they did most things.
He felt Izzy shift beside him and glanced down just in time to see her lift a hand and swipe quickly beneath one eye, the gesture easy and unselfconscious.
Without thinking, he drew her a fraction closer.
The song ended to warm applause — and before the moment could settle, the next track kicked in.
River recognised it instantly.
Joey did not so much recognise it as ignite.
“This is my song,” Joey said, stunned — then louder, ecstatic, “THIS IS MY SONG.”
Markus scooped him up before anyone could intervene, hoisting him onto his shoulders. Joey threw his arms into the air, conducting the room with wild authority.
River noted, distantly, that Markus didn’t seem especially committed to holding on to Joey’s legs — and also that he didn’t mind nearly as much as he probably should.
Izzy laughed — properly — and River watched her look across the room at Kit and Stephen with something open and shining in her face.
Gratitude, maybe. Or recognition.
Camilla caught her hand for a moment as people began to move, and the room tipped into motion — spinning, clapping, laughing.
River stayed where he was, taking it in.
He caught Stephen’s eye briefly — just long enough to register the look there.
Something like this is what happens when you stay.
River exhaled.
He wasn’t one of life’s dancers. Never had been. He usually hovered at the edges, content to watch.
But he didn’t want to be outside of this.
So he stepped forward, slipped his arm more securely around Izzy, and let himself be drawn onto the floor.
She looked up at him, smiling — warm, certain.
Joey whooped.
The music carried them.
And for once, River didn’t hang back.