Balconies are for love scenes
"It's a beautiful night," she said, in an attempt to break the silence.
"Yes, it is." That dispirited tone in his voice wasn't exactly encouraging, but she forgave him. It's not like he could help it.
She stared at him. The moonlight, rather than the noisy lights from the party going on inside, did a good job of spotlighting him.
She saw his every detail: short, wavy blond hair, green eyes glowing with pure demon power, eyelashes so long that they cast shadows on his cheeks, so curled that their ends pointed towards the sky. The blue of his usual army uniform, under this light, matched the dark blue of the sky. In contrast, his pale skin reflected the unnatural sharp glow of the moon. It looked like he was lighting up.
While most demons would call him beautiful, so beautiful that even men will fall over their feet in admiration, for some reason, Gisela can't quite say the same thing.
"Are you all right, Your Highness?"
"Don't ask me that, Gisela, I know you know the answer."
She bit her lower lip. That hurt, but he was right. Everyone knew that he'd been awfully depressed because the Demon King hasn't returned from the other world yet, and for a good reason—
What was she supposed to say, that don't worry, it's just a broken leg, hospitalization in his world wouldn't take that long, a hundred years will go by before you even know it?
Before she could decide to say anything, though, Wolfram said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."
"It's all right, Your Highness. You're allowed to be irritable in this case," she said softly.
He sighed. "I'm a prince. Technically, I'm allowed to be irritable everywhere except the battlefield," he said.
She giggled. "I suppose so."
The party was a nothing-sort-of-affair that his mother had planned for his benefit. She made the excuse of some obscure holiday celebrated by the colder regions of the Demon territories, just so she could invite every eligible nobleman and noblewoman that she found even slightly appropriate for her son. It probably wasn't wise to do it for the Demon King's fiancé, and of course Wolfram resented that he had to socialize with all these uninteresting men and women for the sake of diplomacy. But all the others understood that nothing will come out of all those parties, because every time they happen, Wolfram ended up isolating himself at some nook somewhere.
For that night, Cecilie invited Gisela to come, as she always did. Parties weren't Gisela's interest, but out of a whim, Cecilie refused to take no for an answer.
Wolfram, who wished for isolation, turned to the balcony. Gisela, not knowing anybody else in the party, followed him. She wasn't shunned, but she wasn't welcome either. Neither of them minded the presence or absence of company.
Even so…
It was his turn to stare at her.
"You've never worn an evening gown before, have you?"
The moonlight, rather than the noisy lights from the party going on inside, did a good job of spotlighting her.
"It's not that. It's just that it's been a while…"
Her wavy hair, dark green, the colour of the leaves, hung down and covered her back. Green eyes of the same exact shade, the calming glow of healing Demon magic. Eyelashes so long and dark that they seemed to be fishing for the stars in the sky. The white of her evening gown was the exact same shade as the moonlight.
Under the pressure of his gaze, a tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks.
Taken aback, he lifted his gaze from her and chose to look at his hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he said in embarrassment. (Or perhaps, out of confusion; what the hell am I doing, so suddenly…)
They fell silent. For a while, they did nothing but to lean on the marble barriers of the balcony. Eyes up at the sky. Watch the stars blink out, one by one.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
A warm hand enclosed itself on Wolfram's hand.
He stared at it. It froze for a while, but softened again, even daring itself to curl its fingers, in exploration, in between his fingers. Wolfram didn't pull away.
He looked at her to see that she was looking at him and smiling. The moment was too awkward for words… or rather, was it too innocent? So straightforward that it shouldn't be rejected? It was obvious that this moment was probably uncalled for, probably not even allowed by Wolfram himself, but that cold feeling that one feels when betraying a loved one all but melted when he stared into her soft eyes.
(He hoped to Shinou that it was temporary stitching.)
It wasn't what he was looking for on this cold night, but he didn't mind at all.
- end -
Author's notes: More Wolfram and Gisela. I didn't think so hard on the story. The title said it all, I think! I hope you enjoyed this one and three-fourths pages worth of fanfic :)