It was during the Spokane leg of the tour that he saw you.

Second row, sitting neatly while you were anyhting but.

The prim etiquette and black silk gloves that passed your elbows did little to compensate for the wickedly large spikes protruding from your choker, or the way your eyes looked nearly black under the red lighting from the heavy black eye shadow. Elegantly poised to watch the circus, while you seemingly only appeared to have the nobility of a vampiric mistress. A deadly silhouette, watching him from below as he dangled by his wrists from the straps.

He made sure to force your gaze on occasion, either by a vague gesture of his hand or a grin passed in the direction of which only you could catch.

Just another pretty face in the crowd, soon to be forgotten amidst the masses as the tour continued.

That was until New Orleans, six months later.

You walked into the studio where everyone was reversing, being led to the straps by the director. Evan almost choked on his drink. Far less dolled up than the night he saw you, but your eyes were still the same. The same hazel green, the same flecks of orange like fire flicking every time your eyes tracked the movement of the suspension rig.

That just made things even better.

"Evan, new performer. She passed the audition with flying colors- speaking of flying, you two need to get to know each other. A vote was cast for a trapeze pairing, so you two need to be good with catching each other and shit. Dodging knives is supposed to be incorporated into the routine by the time we reach Europe, but until then, she needs to learn the Ex Mortis routine with you." Miss Clarise, the circus director said as she approached him, waving you over.

"Holy shit, correct me if I'm wrong, but you were second row in Spokane, right? If so, I swear to god, I'm pretty sure I only remember you from the crowd that night." Evan grinned, shaking your hand before leaning against the wall as Miss Clarise walked off to go converse with the contortionists.