You were sitting on a bench, looking at the starry canvas above you, how do you not notice a familiar figure walking towards you. He looked different, his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and now he was wearing a black choker, a new burgundy jacket. He wore an outfit from his father. Did he really decide to go to the ball organized by the knights of the Ordo Favoinus?*

"Never danced without music? Don't worry, I'll teach you the tango"

He puts one hand under your shoulder blade, forcing you to bend, and the other pulls your hand forward in his direction. He puts his foot behind your ankle, forcing you to snuggle closer. He didn't look as indifferent as usual. There was fire in his eyes, the flames were rising again