There are places that are quiet at night, that few travel to, when the moonlight is their only guide. And really, they aren't supposed to be here, not Zen in his gray suit jacket that somehow makes his pale skin seem to shine like moonlight, and his blue eyes ever deeper, run ever freer. Nor his white button up shirt beneath the jacket, a button up that he spent moments meticulously bringing together, ripe with the practice that his brother had said he definitely needed. Nor the gray pants that are finely tailored to fit him or the shiny black dress shoes that were freshly shined as they always were, unafraid of getting grass bits on them or particularly adventurous pieces of dirt.
Shirayuki doesn't match this day either, not in her pink dress that feels perfectly tapered, as it glides back in around her chest, just to leave her waist in excess fabric, just enough that with a simple spin, the pink would fly out and away from her, only showing a hint of her legs beneath the fine skirt.
They are dressed too finely for the park at midnight, no straggler teenagers wandering around, looking for their next target to graffiti nor here just to see if they'll get caught by authorities that always seem too swamped with work until the absolute worst moment. It's quiet this time of night.
The gazebo is as empty as it is large tonight, dark brown wood only revealed under the bravest ray of moonlight, and Zen's hands in hers are the reminder that tonight, it doesn't matter if they are spotted, that tonight, anxiety is to be cast aside. Instead Zen's hands are steady, and blue eyes are locked on her green ones.
And slowly, they begin. Zen's feet steady and sure as he moves towards her, guiding her into a chase that feels so delicate. And finally stepping in tune to each and every step that his shiny black shoes land on, and listening merely to the quiet of the night around them, she gets a grip on the dance, not an upheaval, but the final moment that draws relaxation easily like breath finely pulled from her lips. It is easy to follow, and then he spins her, and her pink dress flows like a gentle breath of wind, and she's back in his embrace, matching step for step, eyes locked on eyes so beautiful, that she can positively get lost in them for days, without even a hint of something to pull her away.
Each and every step that leads to a gentle playing off of each other, is another step closer, as if each step were a flower just beginning to open up in spring time, and with each second, another moment is crafted stronger than the last. And maybe, just maybe, when they pause with eyes locked, and they run the greatest risk of being caught after being out here for so long, they shouldn't test fate so much.
But when Zen leans down to kiss her, and Shirayuki leans up, for the both of them to meet in the middle, it is a beautiful moment, a moment that is as hard to explain as it is to define. A moment they've lived together, a one in a kind moment, a chance that they may never do over again, but even though the park at midnight is a gamble, they'd gladly do so again, for the quiet stillness they've gotten to spend together.