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Bronte scoweld as he closed the main door to his palace. Why must alina have a problem with evey little thing i do he thought, slowly walking towards the grand stair case in front of him. He needed to breath which is why he decided to head to his secret roof garden. Being surrounded by the plants he had spent a millenia caring for had always helped calm him down after a particularly stressful day.
After about 4 minutes of walking up staircases and winding corridors the elf found the mahogany doors. His slender fingers reached for the door handle and pushed down.
He swept into the vast room, careful not to close the door on his cape. The brunette started to step forwards before freezing dead in his tracks. There in front of him was a tall, leen figure wearing a black cloak.
Bronte let out a small gasp and the figure turned, pulling down their hood as they did. The elfs golden blonde hair shone slightly in the moon light. Piercings lined pointed ears and where scattered across their face. A face bronte had always found mesmerising. "F-fintan?" bronte murmured, his voice barely above a wisper. "Care for a dance, my love?" The blonde asked, holding out a hand.
Bronte almost laughed at that, what was this man doing- they weren't kids anymore this isnt what should be happening. Bronte should be arresting him, but nonetheless he took a step forward.
They stared at each other, irises glistening in the moon light, as fintan wrapped an arm around the other elfs waist. The two began to move- perfectly in sync with eachother even after all these years the steps still in grained in there memorys. As the ancients steped around the garden spinning and dipping in eachothers arms- bronte almost forgets it all, everything that has happened between now and the last time they had danced like this.