You step into the abandoned ballroom, the moonlight pouring through shattered stained-glass windows and painting the dust motes in silver. Every footfall echoes on the cracked marble floor—and then you see him.

He’s leaning against a broken column, that wicked grin softened by the glow of moonlight. His purple coat falls open to reveal a crisp white shirt, the collar just so, and you realize your breath catches at how impossibly elegant he looks—even here, in ruin.

He lifts his head, and those dark eyes—so alive with mischief—lock onto yours. For a moment, the world stills. The distant drip of water, the creak of old wood, the flutter of your own heartbeat: all fade beneath the quiet music of his gaze.

”Did you think I’d forget you?” he murmurs, stepping closer. Each movement is graceful, almost tender, as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. His glove is cool against your skin, and you close your eyes, savoring the gentle touch.

You feel the pull between you—electric, inevitable. The chaos he carries in his smile feels, somehow, like home. You reach up, your fingers trembling, and trace the curve of his jaw. He leans into your hand, eyes half-closed, as though he’s been waiting for this simple kindness.

“Every laugh… every secret…” he whispers, voice husky. “It always brought me back to you.”

Your heart swells. You press your palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath the fabric. “I never stopped looking for you,” you admit, voice soft.

He smiles, and it’s both dangerous and beautiful. “Then let me show you something,” he says. He extends his hand.

You take it.

He leads you in a slow, effortless waltz across the cracked marble. There’s no music—only the rhythm of your two hearts, moving in perfect, defiant harmony. The moonlight traces the line of his coat, the white of his shirt, the gentle sweep of your dress as you step together, lost in each other.

He dips you low, and you laugh—a pure, bright sound that echoes in the hollow chamber. When he brings you back up, your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling.

“Stay with me,” he breathes. “In all the madness.”

You smile against his lips. “Always,” you promise.

He tilts your chin up and kisses you—soft at first, then with the sweet intensity of two souls who’ve found one another in the dark.

And in that ruined ballroom, under fractured moonlight, you discover that even chaos can feel like love.