Work Text:
Takara stands at the ornate front barrier that frames the private seating area. It overlooks the main auditorium, painted in crimson velvet and gilded molding, and bathed in the warm glow of the massive crystal chandelier suspended overhead. The hall is abuzz with whispers, the rustle of turning programs, and the occasional soft, polite cough.
Down in the orchestra pit, musicians sit with their instruments, tuning in a chaotic yet beautiful dissonance. The bright trill of a flute cuts through the deeper hum of a cello, while a violin bows a lonely, repetitive note. It is the sound of anticipation.
Takara takes her seat, unable to keep from bouncing her knee.
“You have been to the opera before, haven’t you?” says Caius, amused at her eagerness.
“Not the Sydney Opera House, and it was a while ago,” Takara says, peering forward. With the low lighting and the position of this private box, she can see out, but nobody can see in. Which is crucial for her, but more importantly, for her company.
Marcus chuckles and passes her a glass of sparkling cider, non-alcoholic, and her heart melts at the thought and care behind it.
A shift ripples through the hall as the lights begin to fade. The orchestra falls silent, and Takara holds her breath as the velvet curtain rises
The performance is magnificent. She doesn’t notice the hours passing, and when the final note rings out, she doesn’t realize she’d started crying until one of the kings -- she doesn’t know who -- passes her a tissue.
The lights lift, and the auditorium comes to life with applause. Takara sits there. “Wow,” she says, feeling strangely bereft of words.
Caius starts to laugh. She whacks him (gently, because she doesn’t want to break her hand), and catches Aro’s eye. He’s still seated regally, one leg crossed over the other, elbow resting on the arm of his chair and chin on his first. He's smiling softly, in the way that makes her heart beat just a little faster.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you’re in love,” she teases.
"Then I am looking at you exactly as I should,” Aro replies, winking. She laughs and moves forward to press her lips to his. “Yes,” he says when she leans back, and it takes her a moment to realize he’s answering the question that was only half-formed in her mind, “I was watching you.”
“Not the opera?”
“I've seen it a dozen times,” Aro waves a hand. His voice softens as he reaches up to brush her cheek with a cool finger. “But to see it through your eyes, tesoro . . . Il mondo è più bello con te.” 1
Her breath catches.
“Yes, yes, you're madly in love,” Caius interrupts. “We all know.”
“Your jealousy is showing, brother,” says Marcus placidly.
Takara rolls her eyes, but she's smiling as she moves toward the exit. “There is nothing to be jealous about, and I'll prove it to you.” She turns halfway and holds out her hand with a smirk. “Coming?”
- Italian translation: “The world is more beautiful with/through you.” [ ▲ ]