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Meruem knew Komugi couldn’t see him bending at the waist, reaching out to her with his hand with his other arm tucked behind his lower back.
He did it anyway, just as it had been described in the book he had read to her about a month ago. Though she wouldn’t know whether he did it or not, he wanted to be as accurate as he could for her.
“May I have this dance?” He asked her, purple eyes gazing at her through one of the two masquerade masks he asked the Hunters’ Association to order for them.
Covering the area around his eyes and half the bridge of his nose, Meruem’s mask was a dark purple, matching the suit the Association had custom made for him. A shining, roped gold thread outlined the mask.
Komugi’s mask was a light pink that matched her dress. While Meruem’s mask was rounded in the upper corners of his eyes, Komugi’s stretched out to points. Various small silver gems, some in the shapes of stars, filled the mask’s upper corners.
“Are you sure, Lord Meruem?”
He suppressed the urge to remind her to drop the “lord;” the title was part of the scenario they were playing out.
Komugi wore her hair up in a bun that Meruem had styled for her. It had taken him more practice than he’d like to admit to get it perfect, but looking at her now, it was well worth it.
He had suggested styling her hair in a bun since Daphne LeRoutere, the main character of the book they’d been reading, wore her hair in a bun during the very masquerade ball scene that inspired their current roleplaying scenario. While that was true, Meruem also simply wanted to see Komugi in the hairstyle.
As frustrating as messing it up had sometimes been, he had immensely enjoyed being the one to style her hair. He loved the feel of her white hair running through his fingers and the soft sigh of contentment she occasionally let out as he did so.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Lady Komugi,” he said, making sure to be heard over the classical music playing.
A slight flush appeared on Komugi’s cheeks as she smiled.
“You may.”
She reached out a satin-gloved hand toward his voice. Meruem took her hand in his as she stood up. Staying a step ahead of her, he loosely held his other arm around her waist as he led her to the center of the “ballroom floor:” the mostly cleared-out living room in the house that the Association kept watch over them in.
It had been five months since he and Komugi had woken up in what they had thought was the afterlife to only find out they were, against all odds, still very much alive on Earth. None of the several doctors and scientists who had looked at them in the aftermath could say exactly how the two survived the Poor Man’s Rose.
But they had, and now the Hunters’ Association kept them—Meruem, really—under constant observation. As time went on, the observation became a bit more lax, though still ever-present, and the Association never refused any of their requests. They had even brought in a tailor for Meruem’s suit and Komugi’s dress.
Meruem placed a hand on Komugi’s left shoulder blade as she rested a hand on his upper arm. He raised their clasped hands a couple centimeters above his shoulder.
“Are you ready, Lady Komugi?”
She gave the hand clasping hers a quick squeeze.
“Yes, Lord Meruem.”
Slowly, Meruem stepped forward as Komugi stepped back. Komugi held her breath as she did, her movement a bit stiff.
“It’s alright,” Meruem said softly. “It’s the same as when we practice.”
Komugi exhaled.
“You’re right,” she said, smiling up at him. He nodded, looking at her affectionately.
They stepped in sync again, and then again. The pair incrementally increased their pace, eventually moving in time with the music.
Komugi told Meruem she wanted to try dancing the night after he had read the masquerade ballroom scene to her in Daphne, a novel he found on a bookshelf in the house’s study . He had picked it up more so out of boredom than anything else. When Komugi asked if he’d be willing to read it to her, he couldn’t refuse her. Seeing how much she enjoyed the novel, he came to look forward to reading to her.
She had attempted to dismiss the idea of dancing as soon as it had left her mouth, but Meruem replied that he’d love to. When he read the scene in the novel, he didn’t think of it as anything he would’ve wanted to do as king. But it was clearly something Komugi wanted to do, so he would try it, in whatever way was available to them. Plus, he wanted Komugi to feel comfortable voicing her opinions and wants.
So Meruem researched ballroom dancing, watching tutorials on EyeTube. He spent hours practicing a simplified waltz with Komugi, slowly building up her confidence and coordination.
He watched her expressions as they danced in the present, morphing from nervous concentration to enjoyment—though she never completely lost her concentration. Meruem was reminded of how she was when she played gungi, the rest of the world melting away as she dedicated herself to the task at hand.
“This is fun, isn’t it, Lord Meruem?”
He felt a rush of affection as he looked into her green eyes, which shone with joy.
“It is,” he smiled.
As they practiced dancing, Komugi had said a part of her wished there was an actual masquerade ball they could attend. Meruem suggested having a ball of their own then, leading them to where they were now, imagining themselves at a masquerade ball that matched the grandeur of the one in Daphne.
“Do you want to try a spin?” he asked.
Komugi nodded.
“Let’s give it a try.”
With the hand he had pressed against her left shoulder blade, Meruem gently guided Komugi underneath their arms. Their previously-clasped hands only lightly touched each other as Komugi spun carefully. The pair returned to the basic waltz position, stepping in sync as before.
“You did great,” Meruem said.
“Thank you,” Komugi said, a slight blush on her cheeks before a shy smile crossed her face. “I had a great teacher.”
Meruem smiled.
“Because you were the student.”
He meant it. If it weren’t Komugi he had been teaching, he wasn’t sure if he could have kept his patience and swallowed his impatience when it arose.
Komugi’s blush deepened.
He gazed intently at her as they continued to dance, memorizing each detail of her features. He had memorized them countless times before—playing gungi, over dinner, falling asleep—but he wanted to remember her in this moment. The look on her face, the feel of the hem of her dress brushing up against his ankles, how he felt looking at her.
“Komugi.”
“Yes, Lord Meruem?”
“I want to try dipping you.”
Her eyebrows knitted in confusion before recognition lit up her face.
“Oh, what Alexei does with Daphne at the masquerade!”
“Yes,” he said, smiling. “It’s a dance move we didn’t practice, but it’s fairly simple.”
Komugi mulled it over for a step.
“Okay, I trust you.”
“After you spin, I’ll pull you in closer as you put your right arm around my shoulders,” Meruem said, trying to think through how best to explain it. “I’ll dip you, as if I’m going to lay you down flat on your back. Then I lift you back up again.”
Komugi nodded, a shadow of uncertainty in her expression.
“Let’s…go through it slowly the first time.”
“Of course,” Meruem said. “We start with a spin first, but we don’t go back into the basic position.”
Komugi nodded, then spun, stopping the second she completed it.
“Now, I’m going to guide you closer to me, bringing your right arm over my left shoulder,” Meruem said, doing the actions as he described them. “You’ll put your right arm around the back of my neck, so that your hand touches my right shoulder.”
As Komugi followed his instructions, he placed his right hand firmly on her waist and his left flat against the top of her back.
“Good,” he said. “Rest your left arm on top of my right arm, just like in the standard position, but a bit lower.”
Komugi nodded before doing so.
“Like this?”
“Yes, exactly.”
How close they were crossed his mind in that instant. They had been close—even closer—before, yet Meruem still felt a flush in his lower body.
“I’m going to dip you now,” he said, ignoring the sensation. “As I dip you, put your weight on your right leg. None on your left. Lift your left foot off the floor as the dip continues.”
“Okay,” Komugi said. He could tell she was focused on running through his instructions in her mind.
“I’ll go slow,” Meruem said, waiting for Komugi’s nod to start.
She tightened her grip on him, but she didn’t resist the dip, shifting her weight to her right foot and lifting her left as he had instructed. Their noses were only a few centimeters apart.
Meruem studied her face, now up close and still somewhat beneath the pink mask. He felt Komugi’s steady breaths as his eyes roamed her face, pausing on her slightly parted lips.
“Perfect.”
He took his time lifting her back up, keeping his hands in the same positions though she was standing on two feet again.
“A bit faster this time?” he asked.
“Yes,” Komugi replied, a flush in her cheeks. “I’d like that.”
They repeated the steps leading up to the dip, still moving slowly, but without Meruem repeating the steps. The pair paused during the dip, almost nose to nose.
Though he knew she couldn’t see him, Meruem felt the intensity of Komugi’s gaze as their eyes seemed to meet. A tension filled the air and her gaze—a tension unlike the kind before battle, but just as electrifying. He felt he was on the brink of something, of desire and instinct about to burst through thought and strategy.
This time, his purple eyes roamed below her face. Across her jawline, down her neck and collarbone, to her chest, where her pale skin met the pink of her corseted dress. His gaze traced the lines of her cleavage, until it disappeared into her dress.
“Lord Meruem?”
He lifted her out of the dip with urgency, moving the hand on the top of her back to hold the back of her head. She nearly lost balance as his lips met hers. Her eyes widened from surprise.
He pulled his face a few centimeters back from hers, only enough to look into her eyes, keeping her in his embrace. The flush on her cheeks was getting closer to the color of her mask.
“M-Meruem—I mean, Lord M—”
He pulled her face back to his with a bit more force. Her eyes closed as her mouth opened against his, letting herself meet his hunger instead of questioning it. Their noses bumped against each other’s, their masquerade masks becoming askew. Their hands began to explore each other, forgetting waltz placements and everything else entirely.
Meruem’s lips left Komugi’s to kiss along her jawline, finding his way to her ear. He gently took her earlobe in his teeth, sucking on it softly. The breathy moan it elicited brought a new twinge of heat to a lower body that felt like it was already burning inside.
“Meruem…”
He kissed along her jawline back the way he came, then traveled down her neck. A lick of her collarbone elicited another moan, her grip on the back of his neck tightening.
He planted kisses on her chest, heading toward where his lips would meet fabric, his hands searching for the knot tying the corsets ribbons together.
“W-wait, Meruem—I—”
He stopped immediately, taking a step back. He realized his mask was now ajar to the point where he couldn’t see out of it and took it off. He looked at Komugi, flushed and breathing as heavily as he was, adjusting her own mask.
“Forgive me,” Meruem began. “I shouldn’t have just given into my wants. I should’ve considered yours before acting.”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant—” Komugi shook her head vigorously. “It was my want too, I just—”
The color on Komugi’s face surpassed the pink of her dress as she realized her admittance, but it gave Meruem a spark of joy.
“I just wanted to fix my mask,” she finished quietly. “It was poking me a bit.”
The classical music that both had forgotten about filled the room during a beat of silence between the two.
“I’m sorry,” Komugi said. “I shouldn’t have made you stop over something silly like—”
Meruem stepped forward, lifting Komugi’s chin to kiss her softly on the lips. He smiled as he exhaled.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, still holding her chin up. “There’s no point in being uncomfortable, and it…always pleases me to know when you return my feelings.”
“O-of course.”
He gazed at her before leaning in a breath closer to her, a teasing smile forming on his face.
“I had completely forgotten we’re supposed to be at a very public masquerade ball right now,” he said.
“Oh, I—I had forgotten about that too.”
“I suppose we’ve caused quite the scandal.”
Meruem watched her soft but still embarrassed smile as her thoughts went back to their passionate embrace.
“I suppose so.”
“Do you want to keep dancing…”
Meruem leaned in closer, so that the tips of their noses almost touched.
“...Or do you want to deepen our scandal somewhere more…private?” he finished, his suggestive tone just above a whisper.
He could practically feel the heat radiating off her face. He knew part of her wanted to shy away as much as she wanted to stay—as much as she might want more. He waited.
“I—I want to deepen our scandal,” she said quietly, nearly mumbling.
Meruem enjoyed teasing Komugi from time to time, finding it relatively easy to pick up on what she was thinking in any situation beside sitting across a gungi board. Yet there were moments like these where he found her so endearing—and well, cute— that she caught him off guard.
He kissed her again.
“That sounds like a good plan.”