#mirrorballwon

[ sms: ilona!! ] hi again it was nice to meet u

[ sms: ilona!! ] i'm a regular voter i'll get my roommates to vote for u too i swear

they offer to make her breakfast because . . . well, that's the courteous thing to do when you're a good chef and you've just drunkenly slept with someone. they're also going to reimburse her for the ingredients they're using up. basically, paris is going to do anything they can to convince ilona that everything's okay.

decadent - looking platter is set before her, and paris gives her a nod of encouragement before walking back over to the counter to begin cleaning up their mess. [ yes, their food will probably be cold by the time that's done, but it feels wrong to leave all this shit just sitting out in the open. ] they suppose the silence that follows means that ilona's enjoying her food. that's the optimistic view of things, at least. it's what paris wants to believe until she speaks again, her words and how she delivers them rendering them quite useless. their hands stay unmoving under the faucet, warm water running through their fingers onto the pan they're holding.

not that he's ever been a dancer, outside of tipsy, errant swinging around their apartment or at a bar, but -- she asks him and he feels very suddenly and harshly self-conscious. still, "yeah, okay," with the disclaimer, "i kind of have two left feet."

it's not unusual that whatever lucky lady paris has been seen socializing with a little too much gets thrown to the wolves by the press. normally, she jumps into the fray alongside them, sticking it all out until the cycle dies down and eventually repeats itself. ilona, however, is a different story. literally.

see, ilona's in that same place . . . immediately speculated to be "with" whichever partner she's whipping into shape that season, whatever that means. SILK's team definitely saw this coming. paris should have seen it coming too.

❝ i guess saying we like, make out in the wings off - camera is more interesting than writing that i spend twenty minutes on the floor trying not to die after most rehearsals, ❞ a joke . . . an attempt to make her feel better.

paris has gotten [ mostly, ] used to this kind of treatment in the specific way that lets it roll off her back. they make a conscious effort to tamp down any proximity - based attraction that may prove these paps right at the end of the day. the last thing they want to do is stress ilona out even more. with one swift movement, paris takes the magazine from their partner's hand and shuts it.

a high like this has to last forever. it's natural, self - made, no substances needed . . . just ilona and a stage and some cameras that feel like second nature now. paris' spirits are in too pristine a condition to be dampened by the fact that the competition is over now. it's only over, of course, because they won the damn thing. and they want to revel in it before succumbing to what will soon be classified as nostalgia.

having gotten used to her constantly being at their side, paris refuses to let go of ilona. their arm has been around her since before they stepped onstage much earlier in the evening. it's something they'd slowly been reading further into as the weeks passed . . . whether or not it was just proximity that had their stomach in knots every time they'd execute a routine. such is the nature of the sport, yeah, but still : ilona's just as alluring off the dance floor as she is on it.

this was something paris could never jeopardize during the show. but the show's over now, and while they don't want it to look like they've been waiting to pounce on her, they really want to kiss her.

❝ can't believe i'm sayin' this, but the celebratory shots are getting kind of old . . . ❞ they're as tucked away as they can be in a place like this, the bathroom close by. paris' tone implies there's something else she'd like instead. they've been eyeing each other in a different way for the past few minutes, as if there's no one else in this very crowded club.

the similar wavelength they perfected over the course of the show proves useful yet again, as ilona seems to pick up what they're putting down. paris resists the urge to start off sporadic, to just crash into her . . . and opts instead to rub a circle or two on her hip first while they gradually lean in. finally, paris makes the major move, their eyes fluttering shut as they lean in to tease her for just a second [ lips merely ghosting over ilona's, ] before fully catching her.