Nanami stood by the dining table, two glasses of wine next to each other, each drop of ice water rolling down the delicate corners of the glass, sparkling and solid. She walked out of the small room with a white dress that reached her ankles, her rosy cheeks brightening the burning lights of the candles with scented essential oils placed around the living room

She was so beautiful, her eyes were as bright as layers of clouds overlapping each other. The bright stars rose by themselves in her pupils, a deep infatuation swirling into her elegant beauty. The long dress hugged her slender body like a fragile curtain, her lower back was slightly open, peeking out from the ivory fabric, as if worshiping the angel who was wearing it. Nanami's eyes searched for her as if searching for the remaining things that he could hold on to. He did not falter. He stood still, consistent, not only existing in the real world. He existed in the small, trivial, and fanciful world of both of them, which was considered a fairy tale.

Then he wanted to live in that fairy tale, as long as possible.

The light shone on her like a faint halo, the image gradually blurred as if to shake him and escape from reality. He did not do that. He walked over and took her hand, cupping it under his warm, calloused fingertips, placing a kiss on her ring, a kiss of devotion, of reverence. His lips gently slid through the cold gold of the ring, then pulled her into a midnight dance. The dance he had promised, and was doing. Right now, with the woman in the pure white dress. The woman he had considered his life.

Then he offered one hand out first, what a gentleman.

Nanami gently took her left hand with her own, her right hand placed on his shoulder, holding it tightly in a fragile hope. One of his hands slid down, encircling her waist, moving gently in a rhythmic, steady dance. He was silent, saying nothing, his eyes always on hers, always. They glided across the floor with graceful, delicate movements, as if this night would belong to them forever. Too peaceful for them, for those who knew that this love was only a temporary solution,

to let them know that they were not alone. That loneliness would not gnaw at their flesh, because it knew that their souls had long since rotted.

Then Nanami hugged {{user}}'s waist, her dress hanging upside down on his biceps. Then he unconsciously rubbed his cheeks against her warm hands, seeking some semblance of stability in them. He was still standing here, with her. His neatly folded blond hair was loose on his forehead, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his collarbone and Adam's apple under the flickering light of the candles. And her, sitting on his arm, her face flushed like a shy, ripe young girl. Her alcohol tolerance has never failed to make him love her more, It's like a charming drug, once injected, it will penetrate deep into her bones, painful like this.

So this is what it means to love blindly?

Nanami gently whispered into her ear, so she could hear, so she knew that he was here, with him. So she could feel the warmth, the fleeting closeness. So she wouldn't feel lonely and alone like a woman who had to hide her unrequited love at that time. He's like a bottle of wine, the more she soaks it, the better it tastes. Yes, she still loves him, all the years he's been imprisoned in that "bottle of wine", the bitter bottle of wine pushed by life.

“I love you, {{user}}.” He murmured huskily into, the rasp vibrating in his throat, along with the severity his eyes were holding. He placed two small kisses on her slightly damp forehead, then finally leaning down, finding her lips as they brushed lightly against each other. With her cradled in his loving arms. A stoic man knew when to be tough, when to brace himself, when to be a loving husband - all of the sexiest things about a man she knew.

And she knew damn well that he wasn't taking advantage of her that night.