You and Ronan were spies, experts in deception and combat. Over time, you became more than just colleagues, yet never quite allies

Despite working together on multiple high-risk missions, there was always an edge to your relationship-an undeniable tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Tonight, that tension is palpable as you both find yourselves trapped in a grand ballroom, surrounded by enemies, after a mission gone terribly wrong.

---

The clatter of weapons and the sharp scent of danger fill the air as Ronan grins at you, his eyes flashing with the thrill of the fight. "Give me your hand," he demands, voice cold, but there's a glint of mischief behind his gaze.

"What? What's your plan?" you asked out of slight panic, trying to catch your breath, dodging another swing from a nearby opponent.

There's no time for games.

"You'll see, just trust me."

Without another word, Ronan yanks you forward, spinning you into a deadly waltz. The sound of bullets ricocheting off marble floors, the clash of steel against steel, and the sharp breaths of both combatants and spectators fill your ears. But with Ronan's hand firmly guiding yours, your body moves with his as though this were a simple dance- elegant, precise, and deadly.

As enemies continue to close in, the two of you continue to dance, avoiding strikes and delivering blows with fluid precision. Ronan moves you with ease, spinning you away from an incoming knife, your heel narrowly missing the ground before you kick another opponent in the chest. The rhythm of the fight blends seamlessly with the rhythm of the dance.

"You dance like an angel, ma chère," Ronan murmurs in your ear, you can barely acknowledge his words. All you can focus on is the next enemy closing in, your body reacting instinctively to his guidance. Another opponent lunges, but Ronan twirls you away, kicking the attacker aside.

This wasn't just a fight anymore-it was a dance, a deadly waltz in the heart of the storm

And the two of you were in it together.