The suite lights dimmed automatically as the night deepened over Pride Ring, turning the whole room into a slow-breathing shadow. The glow from outside painted Malerion and Verosika in opposing colors cold blue from the spires, soft gold from the streets.
Neither of them spoke.
Not at first.
Verosika stood at the window, arms loose now, shoulders relaxed, tail swaying in a slow, uncertain rhythm. Malerion stood beside her, close but not touching, hands folded behind his back as if he were measuring the air.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It was warm.
Balanced.
The kind of silence two people shared only when they trusted each other more than they were ready to admit.
Finally Verosika murmured:
"Don't look at me like that."
Malerion glanced toward her.
"Like what?"
"Like you're… thinking too much."
"I usually am."
"Yeah," she said softly. "I know."
Another long breath passed. Pride Ring shone beneath them like a glass ocean.
Verosika leaned her forehead lightly against the window.
"I'm not used to this," she whispered. "Being treated like something other than a spectacle."
Malerion didn't answer with words.
Instead, he shifted his stance not toward her, but toward the space between them, an invitation without touching.
She noticed.
She stepped closer.
Their shoulders almost brushed.
Malerion spoke quietly:
"You don't have to be anything tonight. Not an icon. Not a performer. Not someone strong for everyone else."
Verosika let her eyes close.
"…That's dangerous, Malerion."
"Why?"
"Because it makes me want to stay."
A beat.
Then Malerion, steady as ever:
"Then stay."
Her breath trembled.
Not in fear in recognition.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
Close.
Quiet.
Right there.
Their faces inches apart, but neither crossing the line.
Not yet.
Verosika reached out and, with two fingers, pushed gently against Malerion's chest the same place she had tapped yesterday in Lust Ring when she walked into his club to invite him to tonight's show.
"You don't get to make everything this easy," she said.
"I'm not trying to."
"You are."
"No," he murmured. "I'm being honest."
She laughed, breathless and frustrated.
"You really are going to be the end of me."
"Not if I can help it."
The softness of that line hung between them like a thread.
Verosika looked away first only barely.
"…Let's go," she whispered. "Before I do something stupid."
Malerion stepped back just enough to let her breathe.
"Where?"
"Back home," she said, but her voice was quieter. "If I stay here any longer, we're going to cross a line we're not ready for."
He nodded.
And agreed.
Because they both felt the pull.
And they both chose patience.
For now.