Ineffable

The Enemies' Waltz (Part 3)

Her breath caught in her throat. Appreciation. That was all she ever wanted in a potential lover. She just wanted someone who loved the way she spoke about books, who enjoyed playing chess against her, who was willing to race her on horseback and was mentally prepared to lose but would never be bitter about it. She just wanted a man who would see her for who she truly was and not shy away to protect his pride. And, now, the only man who truly appreciated her... was none other than her sworn enemy? She wanted to laugh. After calling her out to be an insolent girl, he was claiming to be the only one who appreciated her?

"You seem to be having a hard time believing
that," he chuckled, undoubtedly amused by the reaction he was getting out of her. "But I only speak the truth. No one loves seeing the fire in you like I do, my love."

She cringed, "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" he challenged, his sly smirk
growing on his face again. She didn't remember it being such an attractive smile. His eyes seemed even more captivating as they stared at her with an emotion she couldn't recognize right away.

"I should at least be this sweet," he said. "If I am to pursue you, that is."

She almost gasped. What was this man even
saying? She wondered if he'd had too much to
drink because everything he was saying was
absurd coming from him. "Pursue me?"

But his eyes were completely sober and his
words full of certainty when he said: "Yes. I plan on chasing after you."

"For what?" she questioned, completely bewildered.

He rolled his eyes in irritation. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he said, "To make you mine."

That was when she finally recognized the emotion he had while looking at her: longing.

"What?!" she demanded. Upon seeing the looks of the other guests given her way, she lowered her voice to a hushed tone. "Have you finally lost your mind?"

"I am still very sane, thank you very much,"
he replied with a smirk. "Why? Don't you like the idea?"

"No, I don't," she snapped automatically. She
didn't know if she'd meant it or not. The woman was just so used to disagreeing with him.

His smile wavered for a moment before he
tilted his head and wondered, "Am I also not good enough for you?"

She opened her mouth to answer but nothing
came out. How could she reply when she had no clue what her answer would be? Before this dance, it would've been a definite "no". Never had she ever considered this man to be anything other than someone she despised. Now... lovers?

It isn't such a bad idea, a voice in her head
said. She wanted to wave aside such silly notions but couldn't. He wasn't wrong. There was no other man in the world who matched her in a battle of wits and words. As infuriating as their conversations were, she felt this thrill when speaking to him. They differed in opinion but it was as if he was the only one who could understand her. And - while they would both die before admitting it - they respected each other and she felt this propinquity with him that she never did with any other men. And the respect he had for her went beyond the fact that she was intelligent or beautiful, beyond the fact that she was single and of the opposite sex. He respected her for being - well - her.

Besides, the inner voice said, He's not afraid
to lose to a girl. And that might've been the most fascinating part.

She frowned. However... that didn't mean
they would make a successful couple. Much less, a happy one.

"All we do is fight and we don't get along,"
she pointed out with downcast eyes as she still struggled to understand what he was trying to do.

"Why would you ever choose someone you can't stand, Sylvan?"