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“Your Highness,”
the man began, his voice resembling a velvety caress, flowing like a gentle stream, “I sincerely request your presence at this exquisite gathering, and so be it. Now, shall we dance across the floor together?”
Whispers and mutters from the assembled crowd began to stir. The phenomenal statement spread like wildfire, they discussing it so openly, as if it were their own affair. Many sneered at the audacity of that young nobleman's request.
Raven-Night, a nobleman, resplendent in his tailored charcoal suit, adorned with glitz gold accents and gemstones, boldly proclaimed his request with a poised bow. After a deliberate pause, his gaze rose to show the phantom brown mask that concealed his identity; yet its iridescence shadow was a brilliant nuance in his ensemble.
His proposal, directed to the embodiment of the moon itself, a cold and distant but graceful man who the people referred to as ‘Your Highness’. He was sitting cross-legged upon a throne-like seat, dressed in halcyon-gray silk cape and a sapphire brooch pinned on the exquisite garment he wore. His choice of an attire, balanced flawlessly with the distinguished strands of his silver streaked hair. Behind the Venetian gray-blue mask, His Highness’ eyes met with the gaze of his sudden intruder.
‘His Highness’, also referred to as White-Moon, noticed a faint, lustrous aura surrounding the nobleman's shape due to the chandelier’s light. Thus, he paused for a moment, signs of fatigue appearing on his stern face. Reluctantly, he replied, “What makes you wish for something so bold? What happens if I refuse?"
“You seem rather bored. Therefore, I present myself before you, so you may break free from the boredom that you harbor. I’m fascinated by your virtue, to be honest. Will you grant me this chance, Your Highness?" the nobleman insisted, unaware of the crowd gathering around him, watching his every move with disdain.
The seated man's fingers lightly traced the armrest of his seat, his eyes twinkled with interest, “You are indeed on time, but dear sir, I’m not that easily swayed. I must save my energy for the next duty that awaits me. Go away now,” he responded in a dismissive manner.
With a flirtatious wink, the nobleman also known as Raven-Night leaned in closer, unfaltering in his resolve, he persists;
"Oh, come on~ Once this party ends, Your Highness shall retreat to his ordinary reverie in the library, rarely venturing elsewhere. Perhaps you need to experience something new, such as dancing, which may be the case. Life on this universe is short, Your Highness, would you rather be comforted by a lie or accepted my invitation?”
White Moon, slightly taken aback from the blunt and yet charming attempts of the man before him, finally relented, his mouth curved in a smile, "You don’t know when to give up, do you? Very well, I shall grant your request. Just this once."
With radiance emitting from the way that he moves, White-Moon extended his hand, and the waiting noble before him eagerly accepted, his gesture sealing the bond. There's nothing against asking a man out in the party, he decided.
When the curtain rose, the starlight shone brightly. They descended the staircase covered by velour ribbons in blue, every pillars were decorated with many colorful lanterns and florals at each turn. Lit candles flickered from right to left as a light breeze blew their fragrances into the hall.
An enormous table stood in the right corner, featuring a champagne fountain. The golden liquid flowing out of the bizarre man-made fountain served as an entertaining attraction for the guests, who frequented the space near it. At the far end of the hall, connected by a bridge, was the slightly elevated chamber which accommodated the musicians of the orchestra.
White-Moon surveyed the spacious ballroom, tiled with galaxy star granite. The room is crowded with masked male and female couples, only them would be considered unusual, though that didn't matter to him. If there is no night, who looks at the moon.
He couldn’t resist but steal a glance at Styx-Head’s face, only to find those vibrant eyes already looking at him, causing him to avert his gaze in an instant. “What a curious fellow,” he mused inwardly.
Upon arriving at the center stage that bathed in the radiant rays of light, they bowed. The two men wasted no time in finding their stances. Raven-Night gracefully placed his hand firmly upon White-Moon's waist, with the advantage of his height -- a tacit declaration of his wish to guide.
This choice didn’t go unnoticed by White-Moon, who mirrored the others left palm with his, while resting his right palm delicately upon Raven-Night’s broad, inviting shoulder. His every step is carefully calculated. Bound by mutual collaboration, sparks kindled beneath their measured manners.
Raven-Night tilted his head with a grin decorating his face, his voice dipped with jolly confidence, "I trust that you can match my rhythm, Your Highness. I have high expectations for you because your posture is already better than most people’s. Truly."
White-Moon, not to be outdone, replied with a quiet huff, “Aren't you being a little dramatic? Don't get too excited. I’d like to advise you to stay out of any public drama. Otherwise, I might be tempted to assert my authority and punish you right now, brave sir," he didn't realize his legs were fidgeting.
"Are you nervous? I didn’t know you were such a meanie. So, you doubt my competence on the dance floor? Worry no more; stay close and follow my lead, my dear partner," Raven-Night responded mockingly.
Rolling his eyes, White-Moon sighed, “That’s just great, I’m sure you’ll do a fantastic job, dear sir,”
Suddenly, he caught a murmur taunting him; a distracting buzz hung in the air like a dark omen. Raven-Night couldn't help but notice how subtly his expression shifted.
He leaned in, closer. The sensation of the other man’s black-hair brushing against his felt so ticklish. His breath, a velvety caress against Moon’s ear, stirred a shiver down his spine, and a warm rosy hue suddenly painted his pale cheeks.
“Relax.”
The music started to fill the atmosphere, an Adagio beckons them into its slow, leisurely sonata. As their eyes locked, Raven-Night with evident expertise, took the lead into the waltz. That’s White-Moon’s first debut on the masquerade party, to top it off, can it be considered lucky?
White-Moon was in fact a novice who only knew the basic steps. As they paced, he accidentally dragged his foot by mistake. Yet in a delightful twist, he voluntarily placed his trust in Raven-Night, who kept a bright smile that never wavered regardless. White-Moon complied by matching Styx-Head's stride, quietly asserting his own confidence with each step appearing more and more coordinated.
Hands intertwined, feet gliding to the side while bodies swayed with smooth gusto. The soft, melodic magic of music served as a lovely intro. The world revolved around them, pulling it along like a wobbling spider’s cob. Just as the fate hung in the limbo, there it was -- fluttering wings, like butterfly bursting out to fly somewhere in his stomach.
The orchestra stopped temporarily, followed by applause and clinking glasses. The musicians announced that they were preparing for the next piece called -- Blue Capriccio, which will be at the heart of the evening’s climax. And everything changes.
"Bravo, Your Highness! You and your impressive dance sense! Although I must admit, you seem to have a knack for treading on my toes. Sometimes it is rather on purpose, huh?" he teased. Raven-Night put down the crystal glass he was holding as a servant walked by, and so did White-Moon.
"I believe you've set the bar quite low yourself, sir. I did not know that your dance was as natural as the black swan. Remarkable, I enjoyed it.” Realizing his choice of words, he cleared his throat, “Ahem… please forget that."
"Why, thank you~ I’m really not that great." The phantom-masked man rested his hand under his chin proudly, "Instead of praise, I expect Your Highness to buy me dinner first."
"Hold on, there’s one thing you may have forgotten,” White-Moon observed as Styx-Head adjusted the tilted mask, he marveled at how he could be comfortable without harboring any ill vibes towards his attitude, “We've just met, and it leaves me curious—what type of an idiot are you to leave your name unmentioned? Have you counted how many times I've called you 'sir'? Speak. What shall I call you, forgetful sir?"
Behind his mask, his eyes widened, "How thoughtless I was! It seems to annoy you? You know, I'd be willing to say, on one condition.” He halted, gathering his words, “Nothing huge, rather I want you to promise me to memorize my name and remember it always, Your Highness."
Cordially, White-Moon nodded, bracing the answer with bated breath, "Alright, if that’s what you want.” He crossed his arm over the heart, “I vow thee. I shall not forget a promise I made to myself. You now have my devotion."
"Hold your breath," Raven-Night took hold of White-Moon's hand, ensuring that their fingers were laced together, resembling a tender knot. His voice carried a yearning filled with affection, “ Let my name linger in your thoughts when worry takes root in your heart, for in the sands of time, might too fragile to shattered. Embrace each tick of the clock, for within it, a timeless dance we could share. My name is Cheng Xiaoshi, meaning like time itself, a shimmering reflection in your name, Your Highness—no, sorry, I mean, Lu Guang. ”
Vapor drifts the musty smell of old photographs, and blows a breeze over Moon. He jolts. His glacial blue irises swirled, widening with a tide of emotion in disbelief as he heard it. As if a disguise he had worn for too long was crumbling and collapsing. The congestion evoked a desperation and helplessness he thought he’d forgotten, but he discovered a fondness that ran deep in his soul.
"Cheng... Xiaoshi?" White-Moon chanted the name, not reckoned by, "Why are you… here?" The question tied to a loose end, abandoned in a desolate canyon.
Raven-Night didn’t answer this time, letting silence speak on his behalf. But one thing for sure, he now belongs to White-Moon.
As soon as the music resumed, they took their stances anew. They danced but in profound quietude, in wordless converse, despite the dissonance of the orchestral chimes of dramatic verse. Undisturbed, swift. Similar to how two opposing magnets with their opposite ends on the same part, inevitably gravitate them towards the other, never further apart.
White-Moon whirls, twirls, and races with him. Two to five. Should not fall.
The dust floats twice as fast as previously hidden. White-Moon couldn't help but discern, beneath Raven-Night's childish and outrageous nature, there lay a vulnerability that no façade could hide. An unmistakable sense of loss pierced from the bottom of his heart, a torment that made him realize -- why did he care for him?
He squeezes Raven-Night’s arm firmly. Louder they spin with the melody. He will lose him, again.
Just like a sweet, sweet poison. The way those honeyed glances fixed on him, or the way Raven-Night swung like a moron, he knew he was irresistibly drawn to his cosmos. At that moment, White-Moon lost himself, forgetting all previous thoughts, and existed solely for the intoxicating breath ‘bout plume -- that crossed beyond brown and blue. Their untold desires dance like clandestine lovers under the blossoming moon.
Oh, how wonderful if this moment freeze permanently.
Alas, the great clock pointing to 12, poor Cinderella. Our time all but ended.
The music stopped, leaving nothing, but a noiseless gale of erratic breaths from two. The pair is engulfed by mellow light that casts a solitary circle cornerwise, secluded them in perfect dark. Their chests heave and his ankle throbs, each refusing to release the other's link, glistening with the remnants of their rationalization. What does he expect?
“Lu Guang, your hand. I will start believing that you still wanna be here. It’s already over.”
White-Moon stood resolute, his lips pressed tight. Regardless of Raven-Night's ringing declaration, he was also in no hurry to withdraw his hand from their cozy contact. Raven-Night acting calmly on the horizon, waiting for the dust to settle. White-Moon agonized with his desire to confine the shamelessness he cowardly exposed, even after the epitome of deception had entirely faded. He shook off all bad thoughts, but bit the dust, tasteless.
“Will you continue to deny it?” Raven-Night asked, his eyes frantically flickering to the other's face, looking for something, anything that would indicate recognition.
"No. You know exactly what it is. But I keep--" His voice was strangled.
"What? Tell me the truth, Lu Guang."
Raven-Night eventually detached their links. White-Moon couldn't help but slowly savor the lingering touch that still pulsed through his veins. One thing is true. Meaning that things unfold after the 'end'. After much effort, he learned a better way to handle it. White-Moon just has to take every angel by the horns, to bring every Night above the eons.
"Cheng... Xiaoshi. It’s not your fault that you lean away from destiny. Can we start over? Until I figure out a way to break free, I need you. I really do. Please... it scares me to see you going your own path yourself." White-Moon blurs in and out of sight, "I wonder what of me there is in you."
Raven-Night smoothed back his disheveled bangs back behind his ear. Meanwhile, his gaze momentarily paused on the ground below. He remains attentive, but is pretending to ignore him. A moment of pure despair is when the best results materialize. Night chose to steal Moon, knowing that he couldn't alter what was already done in order to achieve balance in the paradox. A selfish wish fullfilled for himself because... You are more important than this universe. Even after ten thousand years.
What's left, of us?
“.....”
Those fingers of Raven-Night lightly traced the phantom-mask decorating his face, before taking it off in a swift but slow movement. The burning phantom, crashing down the galaxy. His face, like a painting left out in the rain, slowly lost its form, dissolving into a vapor, devoured by the flame of revelation. His gentle smile, still retained a trace of its former radiance, albeit a subtle color of melancholy now visible in those gold irises. Warm spring. Just like old times. That stubborn fool of mine. Take me also with you.
Everlasting tale.
“Cheng Xiaoshi… no… this is not what I want, you idiot, don’t you dare…! ”
"Close your eyes and you will leave for me, Guang-guang. I know. It's hard to do."
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“NO!!”
Hand outstretched, White-Moon tried to catch the illusory mist, only to watch Raven-Night disperse into the void. When his newfound deepest fear materializes, the helpless feeling of being unable to endure the pain is far more unbearable than any barrier of space and time. He hates it to the core. Moreover, he is the only one who would make him whole. The cost is to become darkness itself. Unforgivable sinner.
That’s exactly why he would chase him to the end of the world, even to the darkest depths of hell -- whatever it takes, whatever struggle he may burden. If time, heaven, and all odds conspired against them, they'd still find a chance to dance together in the chaos, like two butterflies unfazed by a tempest of fate.
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It was nearly midnight outside, as a lunar eclipse covered the sky. One short night, he burned all his dreams and since then his steps have been light, adrift with no idea on where to go in the never-ending sea. However, the masked shadow forsakes the present, holds the broken puzzle piece in its hands and tosses it out to the cosmos.
The raven-haired man was in the midst of a gathering, adorned in his best-tailored suit, looking for a beverage. Yet he felt unfamiliar, as if he shouldn't be a part of it. His thought, perhaps, is deceptive.
A silver-haired man approaches from a distance. He bows gracefully as he greets. His stern face showed a thin line of smile and those frosty blue eyes signaled his interest to him. Raven-Night knows this man by heart, a man who resembles the moon which the stars honor. ‘Til darkness snatches him without warning, allowing his purpose to expand to infinity.
He can look for an opportunity while he’s alive. The long night may still be upon us, never let go, while it lasts.
My Beloved Night
“ .…Shall we dance ? ....Cheng Xiaoshi ? ”
I love you
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