a/n: a little au spa/bel drabble i wrote with the prompt 'dance'. fail drabble is fail. fail title is also fail. this is my first time writing spa/bel, so of course its a fail.
i think i should just stick to writing angst with insane characters. i'm pretty sure this characterisation is wack.
i'm never writing drabbles again.
chaconne, boleros, farruca, fandango, jota, malaguena, tango, and flamenco are types of spanish dance
femke - belgium
and yes, belgian muffins do exist, and i bet belgium eats them like crazy
.dance with me
Antonio was - is - a lovely dancer, and his dances were lovely as well.
.
Femke knows that for a fact; which is one of the many reasons she attends Antonio's parties. Even though she always finds herself off to the side, sitting down and drinking punch, she still goes just to see the Spaniard waltz his way through chaconne and boleros, to farruca and fandango, to jota and malaguena, to finally, the better known tango and flamenco.
There are many more of these dances, all of which Femke knows by heart just from watching Antonio pick up a partner and fly off with them into the centre of the floor.
That is why she grabs a Belgian muffin (half of her hopes that Antonio set them out just for her), grabs the seat that has long been accustomed to her, and watches with awe as Antonio grabs a flustered Lovino and leads him into a flamenco, hoping just to learn even the slightest bit more about the Mediterranean man.
As the traditional sound of castanets fill the air polluted with lights, Femke wonders why Antonio always chooses to dance with all the guest except her. Is here something, perhaps, wrong with her?
She can't think of a reason why.
But, maybe, that's his reason.
.
The pace of the music quickens as dance follows dance, and as Antonio chooses a new partner, and as Femke watches, entranced.
She wonders if she will ever be that new partner, if he will ever look at her as more than a guest to invite.
But now, she thinks sharply, is not the time for wondering and sadness and reminiscing. Now is the time for her to watch, and speculate.
And so she does, for it is the only thing she can do.
.
The order of dances and partners are always the same at each celebration.
Surprisingly, so are Femke's actions.
Perhaps that is why Antonio does not choose her as a dance partner; she has her own schedule, one of which that does not include dancing.
She reaches out for another muffin, maintaining her ritual.
After all, that is all life is, a series of mirror events.
.
The night has darkened into a void, and Femke knows the party will end soon. She knows all-too-well that the tango will come up, for that's always the final dance of the night.
It's also one of her personal favourites.
That's why she never notices that Antonio is standing right in front of her, beaming brightly as if he is hiding the greatest secret in the world.
"How did you enjoy the night?" asks Antonio in that Spanish accent.
"It was lovely," Femke replies truthfully, wondering where he intends on taking this conversation to.
"Bien," Antonio nods, "I hear you like the tango."
Femke remains quiet, not knowing what to say in response. Antonio smiles, and grabs her hand that still has some muffin crumbs on it, and are too cracked and rough to be beautiful.
"What are you doing?" Femke asks as Antonio leads her to the floor as the music starts.
"Oh, Bella," he says, using his nickname for her, "You know that I always save the very best for last."