#milalec

They would often meet eyes and smile, maybe shake their heads at something Asra or Nana had said, a silent conversation that rarely went much further, a unique but distanced bond that they both shared. But Alec always wondered what would happen if the conversation went further, if the distance disappeared.

And in more recent months, she had begun to think about closing the distance between them by kissing him.

With the rest of their friends paired off—Jamil and Val had made up and gotten back together faster than Alec could blink, Leon was practically impossible to separate from Anatole, and even Camia and Amparo had started spending more time behind closed doors—that left Alec and Milenko to entertain themselves together. Which could have been a lot worse, all things considered.

In truth, she loved being around him. Alec delighted in finally, finally being able to know Milenko on her own. To listen to him play his mandolin, to go over poems and song lyrics with him, to pet Ursula between her ears while Ravah watched jealously from a safe distance as Milenko talked about everything and anything.

She would lie in her bed at the shop, or a guest room at the Palazzo if she had stayed over a bit too late to walk back and think over their conversations until the sun came up the next morning. Soon enough, she found herself asking after him more and more often, agreeing to go to events if he was going to be there. She would let the water run for a bath and stare into it, wondering what it was he saw, what the water would tell him, if she could ever hear it. Then her thoughts would turn to him joining her in the bath, and she would wave them away, cheeks flushed from more than the heat of the water.

Asra noticed first, and teased her for it, but she chose to ignore him as best as she could. Yes, no one knew better than he did what it was like to look at Milenko and feel your heart skip a beat, no, that didn’t mean she wanted to talk about it with him yet. Asra called her stubborn, and she would stick her tongue out at him like she did when they were younger.

But though she could ignore Asra’s teasing—for the most part—it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way she ached to cup Milenko’s face in her hands and kiss the daylights out of him. (And then some, but she would settle for taking one step at a time, at first.)

One evening, she was sitting by herself on a balcony at the Palazzo, tracing the constellations she knew with her finger when Milenko joined her. Sitting close in the quiet, cool air, they spoke about the stars for a moment before he asked her to dance.

They had danced before, they were both good at it, and Alec loved watching him as much as she liked being pressed up against him during a song, feeling his hand in hers or on her back, faces close together.

“There’s no music playing,” she said, a hint of a tease in her voice. Neither of them really needed music playing to dance, there was a rhythm that lived in their minds that they could follow along to, a drum that no one else could hear. She knew that from the first time they danced together, steps falling in line almost seamlessly, as if they had rehearsed it.

“It’s too bad one of us doesn’t sing for a living,” he replied, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes, a grin spreading across her cheeks. As they stood, hands finding their places, she sang a song she had been working on, something softer and slower than they were used to.

It didn’t matter if it was unusual, they still danced around the balcony as if they had done it every day of their lives, and in a way, Alec supposed they had. Even before she felt like she could call him “Milan,” before he and Asra had gotten together, they had always been dancing around each other, when they were all much younger.

Maybe it was just the time they had spent together in the past that led to them being able to predict how the other would step next. Maybe it was something else. Alec wanted to know, but she didn’t want it to disrupt the spell.

Her voice caught in her throat when she let her eyes focus on Milenko again and saw that he was looking at her. Not just looking but seeing, eyes tracing her face like he was trying to commit it to memory, the way she would look at him. She felt exposed, heart beating loudly in her chest, but she didn’t mind it. She wanted him to see her.

The song ending, they both slowed to a stop, Milenko’s hands on Alec’s waist, her hands on his chest, fingers toying with the very open collar of his shirt almost unconsciously. They were both a little out of breath, Alec more so from singing, but neither of them moved away, instead leaning closer together. She couldn’t quite tear her gaze away from his warm eyes, how the moon and the stars made them glitter.

She could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something before his lips even moved.

“Alec—”

Shaking her head lightly, she cut him off. “Kiss me.”

He blinked once back at her, but before she could think to regret her demand, he kissed her. Soft at first, gentle, like he was also afraid of disrupting whatever spell was over them. But Alec wanted more, and she moved her hands over his chest to thread one through his hair, tugging lightly at his curls, other hand holding his shoulder to keep him close. He followed her lead, grip tightening around her, kissing her again and again until they had to break apart to breathe.