“Tell me this isn’t just one moment. Tell me we’re choosing each other.” - SYLUS for Maddie
⊰ &. slow-burn sparks ;; ⊱ // @misericordiis
HE'S ALWAYS BEEN UNFAIR. she should've known better to trust him - her instincts were almost always right. she should've been wary and avoided succumbing to their easy banter, should've stopped meeting his eyes during all the parties - she should've ignored all the times she felt drawn to him and ran the other direction. and yet she's fallen for it, opened herself, opened her heart and thought that maybe it would've been alright. foolish, the very foolishness she once scorned.
madeleine desperately wants to flee but societal standards cared not for her comfort and while it had been days since she last saw him, she doesn't allow her hand to waver as she holds onto his, the other on his shoulder. he's impossibly close, a single breath away, yet madeleine's gaze is fixated upon the drapery across the hall as they fall into a step they've danced one too many times.
it's easy, and familiar, yet anxiety of words unsaid weigh heavily in each of her steps - she almost misses a step but sylus ever so suavely intercepts and guides them to their next move effortlessly. somehow, it angers her - he was so frustrating because how can he have such a broken expression upon his features yet treat her so preciously, she doesn't want to look at him because she'll know she'll say something she doesn't want to. unfortunately for madeleine, sylus is the one to break the silence, his voice seemingly louder than it was as it seems to drown the gentle waltz around them.
« tell me this isn’t just one moment. tell me we’re choosing each other. »
she doesn't reply and allows the words to linger in tense air, contemplating her own instead of letting her emotions speak first. madeleine was never the type to handle such emotional confrontation; easily did she anger, tear up in frustration, and most unfortunately she was avoidant and fleeing. she can feel the weight of sylus' hand against her waist, the heat permeating through her dress, while the other is almost clammy in her hand. there's a certain tone behind his words that has madeleine finally looking at him, finally meeting his eyes.
it's a realization she has that perhaps it's now her that's being unfair.
voice caught in her throat, she's stunned. the desperation and hurt behind his eyes is evident, his hand enveloping hers in a tighter hold as he swings their step around, madeleine breathes. « maybe. »
she's not sure if she can easily welcome him back, smile and hold him like she wants to again. oh how she wants to, as she allows herself a caress of his shoulder shamelessly despite her words. « i don't know if i can trust your words. even if i've missed you. »
« not yet, at least. i can - i should allow you a proper chance to talk and explain yourself. »
