Max scanned the ballroom in search of a suitable dancing partner, and perhaps, future bride. His mother had been constantly nagging him about his lack of courtship. His eyes stopped as they caught the silhouette of a lady he had come to know very well. He smiled to himself, his feet moving on their own accord as they dragged him over.

“You look… wonderful,” Max said, subtly looking at you from head to toe– admiring the blush pink ball gown you wore, noticing even the slightest detail in the lace of the gown. In all your years of friendship he never noticed the way in which your eyes glimmered when you smiled or the way you nervously fiddled with your fingers when complimented.

“Thank you.”

“Pencil me into your dance card? Only if you have space, of course” he asked, motioning to the card hanging from your wrist.