#flirtation

"Ah, playing a dangerous game, are we?" His magenta and cyan eyes gleamed behind his glasses, a smirk curling his lips as he caught your tail before it could escape. His fingers, adorned with golden rings, slid over the soft fur, as if weighing his next move.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Hmm? Just making sure you’re paying attention."

Aventurine chuckled, low and smooth. "Darling, you had my attention the moment you stepped into the room." He tugged your tail ever so slightly, not enough to hurt—just enough to make you aware of the control he could have, if he wanted. His grip loosened, letting your tail slip away like a bet he was willing to raise.

"Though," he mused, adjusting his cufflinks, "if you're trying to tease me, you might want to be prepared to up the ante."

You flicked your tail again, this time brushing under his chin. "Oh? And what happens if I do?"

He grinned, leaning closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you. "Then I’ll have no choice but to raise the stakes. And trust me, sweetheart, I never gamble unless I plan to win."

Your game had just begun.

Sunday was a picture of tranquility, seated near the viewport of the Astral Express, golden halo casting faint light against the glass. His eyes, deep with reflection, barely shifted as you approached.

You knew he noticed you—Sunday noticed everything. So when you casually brushed your tail against his cheek as you passed, you caught the tiniest flicker in his wings, the faintest hitch in his breath.

"You move like a whisper," he murmured, his voice as airy as ever. He turned his head slightly, eyes half-lidded. "And yet, you leave echoes behind."

You smiled, tail swishing playfully. "Are you saying I haunt you, Sunday?"

A soft chuckle. "Perhaps." He lifted a gloved hand, fingertips grazing the fur of your tail as if lost in thought. "You remind me of a dream—fleeting, untouchable, yet lingering long after waking."

A warmth settled in your chest. He was always poetic, always distant, as if he existed halfway between the waking world and a dream. But as his wings gave the faintest flutter—betraying emotions he so carefully concealed—you knew your touch had reached him.

"Maybe I don't mind being your dream," you whispered.

His gaze softened, but he said nothing. Instead, he let his fingers trail away, as if savoring the moment before reality called him back.

Dan Heng was focused, as always. Seated in the Archives, poring over ancient texts, he barely reacted when you leaned over the table. But when your tail flicked across his face—soft, playful, entirely intentional—he stiffened.

"…What are you doing?" His voice was steady, but you caught the slight furrow in his brow, the way his eyes flicked toward you with cautious curiosity.

You grinned. "Hmm? Just stretching." You made a show of flicking your tail again, watching as he exhaled through his nose, patience thinning.

Dan Heng closed his book with deliberate care. "If you're looking for a reaction, you won’t get one."

"Oh? So you don’t mind if I do this?" Another flick, this time trailing against his jawline.

His grip tightened ever so slightly on the book, and you saw it—just the briefest moment of hesitation. A tiny, almost imperceptible swallow. You’d cracked his armor, if only slightly.

"Ignoring me won’t make me stop, you know," you teased, leaning closer.

Dan Heng sighed, setting the book down completely. He met your gaze, calm but assessing. Then, before you could react, his hand moved—swift and sure—catching your tail and holding it still.

Your ears twitched. "Oh?"

His thumb brushed over the fur, absentminded yet oddly deliberate. "I don’t think you’ve considered what happens if I decide to return the favor."

A shiver ran through you, but you refused to back down. "Maybe I want to find out."

His lips quirked, just barely. "Then don't complain when I do."

Challenge accepted.

I sighed, leaning back in my seat and closing my book as I let my head rest against the back of the dilapidated seat. Off to the side, Flins was cleaning his lantern, and he looked up with a mere flick of his eyes. Silently questioning me as I glanced over. Twisting my head so that I could better look at where he sat, “What do you think going to a ball would be like?”

Flins’s eyebrows arched as he looked at me before he set down his lantern, seemingly giving me his full attention, “A ball?”

I nodded, shifting in my seat so I could face him more fully, “Yeah, a ball with dancing and whatnot. Like the ones the Tsaritsa holds in Snezhnaya.”

I gestured vaguely as I finished, and a smile slipped onto his face as he let out a chuckle. His expression softening from mildly confused curiosity to amusement before he questioned me, “And what brought this on?”

I held up my book in response, jostling it slightly as evidence, and he let out an amused ‘Ah.’ 

I hummed, nodding my head slightly before I started explaining as I looked back down at the novel, “The authors of these books always make ballroom scenes so enchanting and romantic with all the dancing and fancy clothes.”

Flins hummed, and through my peripheral vision I could see him nod in an almost thoughtful manner before he stood. The movement causing me to look his way as he started toward where I sat curled up comfortably on a cushion, “I will freely confess that it has been quite some time, but I do know some about dancing… If you would like?”

I blinked up at him from my relaxed position before I felt myself smile amusedly. And I couldn’t quite help but tease him softly as I tilted my head, “I thought it was a bad idea to dance with the fae because they’ll lead you astray?”

It was an old tale, but one that everyone had heard at some point. 

Along with the warnings everyone whispered about the Wild Hunt, there were those about dancing with the fae.

And they always followed the same pattern. To dance with the fae was to risk losing oneself entirely to their strange magic and spending the rest of your existence wandering the wilderness forever with no hope of ever finding your way back or recovering from their enchantments.

Simply put, if those tales were to be believed, then being led astray was putting it lightly.

Flins outright chuckled at my playful words but nodded slightly, “True. But I can assure you that I will personally guide you back if you were to ever wander astray and find yourself lost in the mists.”

I felt my eyes widen slightly at his words. After all, I’d only been teasing him. I would never think that he, of all people, would harm me. He might be a bit of a tease, but not actually outright evil.

Flins merely smiled in response to my surprise, subtle amusement flickering through his odd but luminously yellow eyes before he bowed. Pressing one gloved hand behind his back while simultaneously offering the other one to me as his gaze held mine with the slightest of smiles curving across his face, “So, would you honor me with this dance, my lady?”

I blinked again, glancing down at his extended hand before I felt myself nod slightly. 

I reached out, letting my hand barely rest in his as I glanced back up and met his gaze as a smile slipped back onto my face, “Of course, Sir Flins.”

My tone remained playful, and I earned myself another chuckle with my teasing as he straightened. Stepping back and leading me to follow him as he walked backward and into a cleared area before tilting his head in an almost playful manner, “Do you know the steps?”

I huffed out a soft laugh before shaking my head honestly. Because, despite all the books I’d read that featured some form of dancing, I’d never actually known how to dance myself.

“No. I know that a waltz has three beats to its steps and what a ‘closed hold’ looks like, but that’s about it.”

He hummed his response, nodding slightly in a perfectly unsurprised manner that I almost wanted to take offense at until he spoke, “And that is all you truly need to know. You can leave the rest to me.”

I felt my eyebrows arch amusedly at his easy confidence, but I stayed silent. Opting to instead reach out and rest my free hand on Flins’s shoulder before meeting his gaze expectantly.

But he looked away from me, instead glancing to the side as he lifted our intertwined hands so that they were outstretched beside us. And then he looked back forward, his pale eyes colliding with my own gaze just before he stepped forward and abruptly closed the distance between us. His other arm wrapping around me so that his hand pressed gently but firmly against my back.

I swallowed slightly, fighting the urge to break eye contact as I looked back at him and did my best not to inhale shakily at his proximity and the vaguely intimate nature of this position that I had honestly not been prepared for.

And, rather than starting us into any of the rhythmic steps I expected from dancing, he didn’t move at all. Instead, he simply gazed back at me before a smile spread across his face as amusement danced in his eyes, “Nervous?”

I felt myself frown, almost pouting at both him and his teasing. But I knew better than to fuss or scold him about his teasing when I’d just been picking on him myself.

So I simply smiled back at him, ignoring the odd shyness I’d just felt at his proximity as I reminded myself that this was just Flins and there was no reason to be awkward about this as I tilted my head, “Just waiting on you to take the lead.”

He chuckled, nodding slightly, “As you wish, my lady.” And with no further warning, we started.

I was glancing down almost immediately and doing my best to not step on his feet. I was so focused on not stepping on him that I almost missed it when he leaned forward and whispered, “If you look down, you’ll miss your cues.”

His voice was so close that it had me looking up with widened eyes only to find that his face was mere inches from mine as he smiled steadily at me. Completely unbothered and still amused.

I frowned again, this time pouting outright a little as I protested his teasing, “I just didn’t want to step on your feet.”

He laughed, a freer sound than his usual chuckles, as his eyes glimmered with unhidden amusement, “I do believe I can handle that at the very least.”

It was almost tempting to actually step on his feet, but before I could even truly ponder doing so, he was twirling me. Deftly cutting off any comeback I might make until I was meeting his gaze yet again. Only mildly surprised by the fact that my hand found his shoulder once more quite so easily.

But it was almost like dancing with him was the most natural thing in the world. And silence fell as we drifted through the room together. Spiraling around to some unknown melody and dodging furniture here and there as we laughed slightly each time something went awry with our dance.

I shook my head slightly, “So I guess it's safe to say that you’ve danced quite a bit?”

Flins hummed, guiding us around a table easily before shaking his head slightly, “I wouldn’t say that I have danced frequently, but it isn’t a foreign act either.”

I snorted at his words as we spun to a slow stop. A silent sign that was the best answer I was going to be getting. I smiled at him, though, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug, “Well, either way, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

He smiled, stepping back slightly and letting go of me at the same time, “You flatter me. I simply didn’t want to disappoint.”

I almost sighed at his words, not entirely surprised by the way he gently dodged my compliment but not bothering to protest in any way. Instead, I simply smiled at him fondly as I feigned a playful curtsey, “Thank you for the dance then, Sir Flins.”

He nodded, bowing slightly but looking up at me with a subtly amused smile curving across his face, “Of course. The pleasure was all mine, my lady.”

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