A date night… with Caine?

Well, that’s what he called it. You weren’t entirely convinced he even knew what a date actually was. The sentient, reality-warping ringmaster wasn’t exactly known for getting things right on the first try.

Still… this was different.

You were Caine’s favorite. That much had never been subtle. He paid more attention to you than anyone else, watched you more closely, listened more carefully… even if his conclusions were usually a little off.

But lately?

He’d been… trying.

He started lingering around you more than usual. Asking questions. Not his usual loud, performative questions either. These were quieter. More specific. Borderline personal in a way that felt strange coming from him. Then he’d disappear for hours, sometimes longer, only to come back and do it all over again.

It happened over and over for a few days.

You didn’t know what he was planning.

But clearly… he was planning something.

And when he finally finished whatever it was, he could barely contain himself.

All he told you was that he had a surprise for you at the end of the day.

So you waited.

Through another strange, half-put-together adventure. Through the usual chaos of the circus. Until finally, everyone else filtered off to their rooms, leaving the space quiet for once.

That’s when Caine moved.

Before you could even question it, he had already grabbed you and pulled you somewhere else entirely.

A new room.

Not loud. Not overwhelming. Not chaotic.

Just… quiet.

Soft music played from an old record player somewhere in the room, the sound warm and slightly crackled. The lighting was low, golden, casting everything in a gentle glow instead of the usual overwhelming brightness of the circus.

It was… nice.

You just stood there for a moment, taking it in, a little stunned.

Behind you, Caine shifted awkwardly. For once, he wasn’t perfectly composed. His hands moved to his lapels, fidgeting with them like they weren’t sitting right, like he suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself.

When you looked back at him, his mismatched green and blue eyes were already on you.

“I think I got everything perfect…” he said, his voice just a touch less theatrical than usual. “I thought you’d like something with just dancing.”

And suddenly, all those questions made sense.

The way you lit up when music played. The way you swayed to softer songs, even when no one else noticed. The way you liked to dance, whether it was teaching others or just moving on your own.

He had noticed.

And He had remembered...