The way he danced was intoxicating; the twist of his hips and flick of his wrist, followed by a seamless spin on his heels, ethereal and sparkling in the splotchy forest light. He'd certainly inherited his mother's talent – poised and composed, he elevated his leg, extending strong, slender dancer's muscles and pointing his toes perfectly to the horizon. Holding up his arms for balance, he then twirled on his foot – like a whirlwind – one, two, three, times, and fell into a deep, beautiful bow.

Wow.

As far as Inigo knew, however, he did not have and audience. He had yet to see the boy slinking in the bushes, but still put extra effort into his allure, batting long, feathery eyelashes and brushing stray strands of hair off his ear with a graceful hand.

Owain gulped. Surely his fervent, crimson cheeks were visible through the brush that concealed him... even still, Inigo (miraculously) didn't appear to notice. It was a risky operation, of course, spying on him during his "secret" dance practice, but... it was worth it. Even if from an uncomfortable position like this.

An itch tickled at Owain's arm where leaves pressed against it. Very uncomfortable, he thought, resisting the urge to scratch, lest he rustle his camouflage and draw the attention of Inigo. Tears welled in his eyes as he attempted to ignore the itch, forget it was there, let it pass...

"AH-CHOO!"

But it was his nose that gave him away.

In a matter of seconds, Owain suddenly and ungracefully sneezed, falling back and sticking his feet out from the bushes. The commotion he caused was absurd – he never was good at concealing sneezes as a nobleman should (he "sucked at manners" as Severa once told him), not to mention, awkward teenage bodies were never designed for stealth missions in the brush. A single mistake, and he had exposed himself.

"Who goes there?!" Inigo shouted in alarm. Through the green separating them, Owain could see that the fair-haired boy had drawn his sword, shakily pointing it at his protruding feet.

Owain groaned as he pushed himself up on his palms. "Peace, Inigo. It was only me."

Inigo scoffed. "Ah. Owain? I thought there was something actually threatening lurking in the bushes..."

"Hey! Who do you think you're talking to, y-you pretty boy!"

"An idiot, perhaps? Why are you spying on me, anyway? ...It's kind of creepy."

Owain's face flushed with warmth as he staggered to his feet. "I'm only practicing my stealth!" he sputtered. "Swordsmen should be adept in their undetectable approach, that's what my father said."

"Well, you've done a fine job of that, seeing as I've caught you."

"Wh-whatever! Why do you always dance in secret like this, anyway?! Everyone knows you do it!"

Inigo's embarrassment deepened. "Well, I mean, it's kind of difficult to practice when I know someone's watching. I can't let people see me falter!" He paused. "Unlike some people."

"Me?! Ugh, gods, Inigo!" Owain grumbled. "You wound me! It's hard to be perfect all the time, like you..."

"Owain, I know what I said, but I'm definitely not-"

"Yes, you are."

Inigo stared back at Owain in silence, his dark russet eyes wide and stunned, as if struck by lightning.

"I... I think you're perfect, Inigo."

"Owain, you're being absurd, I-"

Slowly, Owain stepped closer, closing the gap between them. "No, stop. Listen to me. I... I should have told you this before, before I started desperately slinking in bushes to catch glimpses of you. I think you're truly amazing, Inigo. You're always trying your hardest, always trying to keep everyone else happy even if you're not – that takes a certain strength that's almost unheard of. People gossip and say that you're overly occupied with chasing skirts, but... you're one of my only friends who actually tried to understand me, and it means a lot."

With his heart now on display, Owain took a breath. "What I'm trying to say is, there's no one else like you, Inigo. And that's why I admire you, why I think you're perfect, why I like seeing you practice..." He lowered his eyes to look at the floor. "I'm sorry if it's creepy... I mean, I get that a lot..."

To his surprise, Owain felt Inigo's hand run through his hair, trailing off his head and resting on his shoulder. "Owain, you... you fascinate me."

"What?"

"I'm... shy, Owain. I flirt around to try and overcome it. I practice in secret because of it. But you... well, I don't actually mind you seeing me."

"So why did you...?"

"Get startled? For Naga's sake, Owain, you sneeze like a cow!"

"No! Not that, why did you tease me about it?!"

"I didn't think flirting would work on you," Inigo confessed. Bashfully, he smiled. "I mean, it looks like I might have won you over anyway, haven't I?"

Owain's heart was ready to beat out of his chest. "Won me over...?"

It took Inigo only a second to lean in and press his lips against Owain's, but the warmth of the moment could have lasted a lifetime.

"How about now?" Inigo whispered against his cheeks as he pulled away, revealing a mischievous smile still plastered on his face. "Have you fallen for me?"

"Inigo, I..." Owain was breathless. There was no way this was actually happening – only in dreams were his feelings ever requited.

And yet, here they were.

"I have."

Inigo flashed another grin and held out his hand. "In that case... a dance?"

Without a second thought, Owain took it.