"I see you've improved those movements, dear."

That last word, laced with venom, sent a glare burning through your eyes.

"How interesting."

Just shut up for once. The words burned at the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken—shouted—but you swallowed them down. You knew better. He wanted a reaction. He thrived on it. And you refused to give him the satisfaction.

Before you could respond, Sugilite spun you effortlessly, as if you were nothing more than a leaf caught in the wind.

He's good.

Too good at making the world believe in the love shimmering in his eyes. Too good at spinning illusions.

The music softened, its rhythm slowing to something gentler. No longer bound by the tempo, there was no reason for you to remain this close to him. But the moment you tried to pull away, Sugilite’s grip held firm. A hand on your waist. Fingers laced around yours. Keeping you right there.

Your glare sharpened, cutting through the dim candlelight. And yet—if not for that infuriating smirk—his expression seemed almost… indifferent. As if he hadn't done it on purpose.

Damn it.

You could feel those piercing violet eyes, burning with intensity, studying every part of you.

Thankfully, the dance came to an end.

Fortunately, the dance mercifully neared its end. One last spin before the melody unraveled into silence, leaving the two of you standing at the heart of the grand hall, bathed in flickering candlelight.

"Not bad," Sugilite murmured, voice smooth as silk. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

For a fleeting second, you thought he was going to kiss you.

But he didn’t.

After what felt like an eternity, he straightened, effortlessly soaking in the applause meant for both of you, responding with small, dramatic bows—so pleased with himself.

Then, just for you, his voice dipped lower.

"Don’t you like it?" he murmured. "The applause, I mean."

You exhaled slowly, fingers curling at your side.

"I live for it," he whispered.