Bonus prompt - Masquerade!

With a twist.

She was a bluebird, standing out within the palette of dancers, hiding her face behind a mask the color of the sky. The satin dress clung tightly to her petite frame, as if molded to it, before blooming out at her waist and trailing down to her feet. The girl wrapped in its hold was pale, almost frail - and he couldn't help but sigh as he watched her from the doorway, her fingers brushing her blue locks away from her eyes, smoothing her dress out. Springing to her feet, she was a blur, before disappearing in the cluster of dancers for another round, another spin.

Beautiful.

He was a raven, dressed in black, tall and scary. When he'd shown up at the manor, the doorkeeper flinched, but he'd assured the elderly man that it was alright - before slipping into the dark hallways and passing by the ball room. His feet were still unsteady from the long gondola ride though, and he was dead tired, to the point where dancing was little more than an idea to him. No, what he wanted was to check on his little bird lady, and then take a breather on the balcony. Someone would eventually alert her that he'd arrived.

Breathing in deeply through his scented mask, he relaxed, reclining on the railing and watching the beautiful panorama of Venice through lidded eyes. The city was quiet. He could still hear the upbeat music from the hallway, as well as the light footsteps that soon went his way, not long after he'd came.

The balcony door opened and closed quietly behind him, and he turned his head, catching her outline from the corner of his eye. In the dark of the night, she was a slice of the midday sky, calming down his wayward thoughts and making him smile like no one else could. The little bird waltzed up to him, one arm outstretched, until she touched the material of his shoulder and wrapped her little gloved hands around his bicep.

"Hi."

Bending down to meet her halfway, he lifted her up into a hug, pressing his cheek to hers and chuckling as she shivered. If he didn't value his mask, he'd just rip it off and kiss her senseless. Alas, he did, more than he'd admit, and taking it off this early into the party would spoil all the fun. So he'd had to settle for an affectionate nuzzle and the tired sigh of a deprived man.

"Hi."

Setting one aching leg apart from the other, he set her little feet on his boots instead of the balcony floor, and, after gathering whatever strength he had left, started swaying gently in the rhythm of a waltz. When he did so, she pressed her face into his thick overcoat and giggled.

"Thought you didn't dance tonight?"

"I reconsidered." He rumbled at her, brows furrowing behind the mask. "Don't make me regret it. I've been up and running all day."

"Oh, I won't," she sighed happily, wrapping her hands around his middle as she watched his feet move. The stance was far from correct, but he'd said nothing and used it as a chance to hold her too. She was silky, slippery and cold. "I thought you wouldn't come at all. I'm happy I was wrong, though. And your costume even fits the theme of the ball… Oh, I'm so glad."

For a while, they just danced, listening to the faint music coming from the ballroom and sometimes muttering a sweet nothing or two. The moon above was a swelling crescent, reflecting in the aqua alta and staring down at them along with a billion stars. It was strangely beautiful - one of a kind, never to return again. He engraved it into his memory, just like the moment when - early or not - she'd pushed up their masks and gently kissed him.

"Let's get you something to eat." The bluebird grinned up at him, when she'd finally let go. "I'll make sure nobody sees you and freaks out, alright? Then you can go hide in my bedroom."

"That's a good plan." He grinned, and her lashes lowered, the grin becoming more sultry.

She kissed him one more time, tugging at his lip with her teeth, before gently descending on the floor and turning around to leave - only for him to reach out and recapture her. Squealing in delight, she giggled as he playfully nipped at her neck, leaving a trail of tiny bruises, marking her as his.

Leaning back to admire his work, he watched the bruises bloom, before his satisfied grin faltered as he recalled something he'd heard earlier. Something he wanted to tell her tonight.

"Levy." He called out gently, catching her attention as she gasped for air, her blush reaching all the way to her shoulders.

"Yes, Gajeel?" She'd smiled up at him, her eyes shining.

For a second, the words were stuck on his tongue - he didn't want to ruin this moment by frightening her - but then the his doctor experience and common sense took over, making him settle on a half-truth.

"I… I think it's better if you avoided the Porla and Gaebolg houses for a while."

"Why?" She giggled. "They're not the nicest people around, and I'd love to never see them again in my life, but I'm already treating them like strangers and refusing their invitations, much less inviting them here. It's quite hard to go even further than that in avoiding."

"No, that's not what I mean." He sighed, and her smile faded.

"Gajeel… Is something wrong?"

"It's okay. There's just something going on that I'll have to investigate. So… Can you?"

Levy frowned, before giving him a tiny kiss. "Okay, I'll try. Now wait for me, alright?" Then, with a parting look, she was gone, the doors clicking shut behind her.

Fingering his cane, Gajeel spared one more look to the eerily silent city behind him, and at the sky, with the magical atmosphere overrun by few thick, fluffy clouds. Then, pulling on his scented mask and adjusting his hat, he went back inside and slowly ascended the stairs, heading to Levy's room. The masquerade went on below, the people too busy dancing and laughing to notice his beaked shadow creep in the dark.

The thing was… He didn't know there would be a masquerade tonight.

Do you get it?

Hint: Venice, 1630. 8

C-D