solidad is a true gem.
Oh, he's not staying. Not after that.
"I'll see you later, May," Drew says, the line pure rote memorization after so many times hearing it off his tongue. "Good to meet you, Tinnie," he says.
"It's Timmy," Timmy says, sounding far too angry for someone with such a name. With dignity and poise and elegance and class, Drew turns and walks away and beelines for Solidad, who's been watching over the tops of everyone else's head this whole time. At least he doesn't need to explain the whole mess out to her.
"I tried," he starts, throwing his hands up and nearly shoving a waiter. He pauses, helps steady the tray-carter, and moves on. Solidad's gotten herself a small plate of snacks. He hopes she wasn't tossing back popcorn as he entered the most awkward encounter of the night. "Did she say yes?"
"Well," Solidad says diplomatically, "she didn't say no. There is a difference, you know."
"She hates me!" he announces suddenly, and, over-dramatically, he puts on the fakest grin he's ever worn and hopes it'll make him feel better about himself.
"Legends' sake, Drew. It's not that bad."
Still acting melodramatic, as if it would invert reality and lessen his own sudden heart's aching, he challenges her. "I don't really see how it could get any worse, Sol."
"She still wants to dance with you. A couple minutes hanging out with an old friend doesn't change that."
"Oh, but it might," he says, bugging out his eyes. Man, he's lucky that everyone else is too busy being normal and fun to notice this.
"You think she's crushing on him?" Drew feels heat rise to his face, a swirl of embarrassment and jealousy. It's not overly comforting.
"He clearly likes her," he deflects.
"Not the same thing," she repeats. "Drew, Kiddo, look at me." He does, smirking. "Look at May." He does and swallows. "Look at her dancing partner." He does, and his scowl turns into a snicker. The guy is stepping on his cape and her shoes and everything in between. Some coordinator. Can't even move right. He looks back at Solidad, whose eyebrows are raised. "Come on, Drew. Admit it."
"Yeah, okay. It's unlikely," he concedes, which isn't very nice, but then, he's never really been all that nice.
"Smart boy," says Solidad, who's never let him down. "The next song starts soon. Go find her, go ask her to dance, and go win some hearts."
"Just the one," he says sardonically. "The only one who doesn't want it." But he, too, recognizes the song floating through the ballroom, and with every second it winds down, the faster goes the uptick of his heart. "Sol, that's only like twenty seconds. Gotta find her first."
"Lucky for you, your best friend is a Girafarig," she says cheerfully. "She's right over there." He follows her finger, doesn't say goodbye, and darts off into the crowd. It's more like swimming than walking, the sheer amount of people he has to nudge aside before he can get through.
She's still dancing with Timmy, but she waves at Drew behind the other guy's back as the dance wraps up and he feels undue triumph swell. Yeah, that's not really an appropriate response, is it?
Whatever.
He tilts his head up at her, tucking his hands into his pockets. The music closes, and the smattering of applause strikes at his nerves.
Grim opens his mouth but May speaks fast, her words all jumping out so she can't be accused of cutting him off.
"Thank you, Timmy," Drew hears her say. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"I'd like that," says Grim, and May turns around. Oh, she is something.
"Great moves out there," he teases, because all she was able to do with that Grim boy was sway. What a bore. No spark. No flair. May's lips quirk.
"Thank you," she says primly, too kind to throw her partner out the window.
"I bet you can do better."
It's a challenge, his words, not an invitation, not a request. But that's okay. The whole duration of their relationship, sparse and contrary though it is, makes leaps from challenge to challenge. Of character, of skill; for ribbons, for glory.
May narrows her eyes, but it's matched by a smile across her face.
"Better than you?" she says sweetly. "You're right."
He tilts his head.
"Let's test that theory. Shall we?" He holds out his hand and the music picks up again. May grabs his hand, pumps it once, and grins at him, all teeth and sparkling eyes.
"You're on."
i still adore contestshipping! :)