The sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and soft lavender. The city lights flickered to life, casting a golden glow on the streets. Music drifted from a street performer's violin, the sound weaving through the night air like a secret melody meant only for them.
Vincent and Anastasia had long since stopped caring about time. The world could wait. For now, they had stolen a moment from the universe, and neither was willing to give it back.
As they walked through the dimly lit streets, Vincent suddenly came to a halt, his grip on Anastasia's hand tightening just slightly. She turned to face him, her blue eyes reflecting the city lights like diamonds.
"What?" she asked, curious.
Instead of answering, Vincent took a step closer and lifted their joined hands.
"Dance with me."
Anastasia blinked. "Here?"
"Why not?" he murmured, his voice low, inviting.
She looked around. The street wasn't empty, but people were lost in their own lives, too busy to pay attention to a seemingly ordinary couple. There was no grand ballroom, no elegant orchestra—just the soft hum of the city, the warm glow of passing headlights, and the quiet music playing from a nearby violinist.
Yet, when she met Vincent's gaze, it was as if the world had faded away.
"Fine," she said, her lips curving into a rare, playful smile. "But if you step on my foot, I'm leaving you here."
Vincent let out a quiet chuckle, already pulling her closer. "As if I would ever make such a mistake."
And just like that, they began to move.
Vincent led her effortlessly, his touch both gentle and commanding. It wasn't a formal waltz, nor was it a practiced routine—just the natural rhythm of two people who knew each other better than they knew themselves.
Anastasia let herself sink into the moment.
There were no cameras. No eyes watching their every move. No expectations to uphold.
Just Vincent.
And for the first time, she allowed herself to realize something.
With him, she didn't need to be perfect.
She didn't need to be untouchable, ruthless, or feared.
With him, she could simply exist.
The violinist's song shifted into something softer, and Vincent's hand slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer.
"Are you enjoying this?" he murmured, his lips just barely brushing the shell of her ear.
Anastasia tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a teasing smirk. "Perhaps."
Vincent chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "I should make you dance with me more often."
"Only if you can keep up."
Their steps slowed, the music fading into the background, but neither let go.
Vincent lifted a hand to tuck a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear. "You are the only thing in this world that I want," he murmured, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.
Anastasia's fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, holding him there.
She didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
Because for once, the silence between them was enough.