ᎳᎥᎠᎾᎳᏒᎬᎪᏢᎬᏒ ᎥmᎪᎶᎥᏁᎬs & Ꭺu's

Slow Dancing

The Carrier had landed, freeing Gabriel Reyes from inside. The two were supposed to meet in Paris for an undercover mission. The man was dressed in a fine silk suit, black of course, with a matching pair of shoes to go with it. It wasn't much of a fancy type and the suit made him irritated and not to mention itch as well. However, he wouldn't turn down a chance to spend an evening with Miss Lacroix.

"Gabriel? Where are you at?" The soft French accent hissed through his com and he smirked upon hearing it.

"I'm here, Amelié, don't worry.." He began to watch towards the decorative building, many guests walking inside to the party. "Heading in now"

Widowmaker sighed, moving her glass of wine in a circle. She was attired in a silky, deep purple gown that flowed to the floor and more. Jewels decorated her fingers, neck and ears, causing her to sparkle. Other than her purple skin, she really stood out in the crowd.

Reaper made his way in, standing out in the crowd of French speaking fanciful guests. His mask immediately causing stares and whispers, but he didn't mind it. His intentions were more set on Lacroix. What a better time to express his feelings for her then in the place of love itself? He was sure to steal a dance and hopefully a kiss. If he was extremely lucky, maybe she would express her feelings for him as well.

Amelié saw him from afar and approached him. Of course, he was wearing that ridiculous mask. The man never took it off, EVER, and she couldn't express how annoyed it made her. What did he have to hide? She began making her way over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

Reyes turned and stared at the beauty before him, a sheepish smile forming under his mask. Wherever she went, she was sure to make a mark. And tonight, she made a whole statement. She was far more stunning up close then afar. He was thankful his mask hid his gawking expression.

L'âme en peine
Il vit mais parle à peine
Il l'attend
Devant cette photo d'antan
(A lost soul,
He lives but hardly talks
He is waiting for her,
In front of this photo of former times)
 
  Reyes noticed the change in music. Slowly, couples began to come together, hands intertwined, while the other held their waist. He couldn't help but feel like an oddity. Everyone had someone. But him? He was alone, like usual.

Except for Amelié, of course, she too shared this uncanny feeling. He decided now would be the time to ask, since the mood was set after all.

Il, il n'est pas fou
Il y croit c'est tout
Il la voit partout
Il l'attend debout
( He, he is not crazy
He believes in it, that's all
He sees her everywhere
Standing, he is waiting for her )

He stopped, almost immediately drawing himself back. 'Don't do it, Reyes' He grumbled to himself. 'You'll just set yourself up to be rejected'

He noticed a pot next to where she stood, inside a blossoming rose bush was planted inside. He debated whether to do this the old fashioned way, getting a girl a rose was so clichè. Besides, what is a rose to a woman who has everything?

Une rose à la main
A part elle il n'attend rien
Rien autour n'a de sens
Et l'air est lourd
( A rose in his hand,
Apart from her, he is expecting nothing
Nothing around him makes sense
And the air feels heavy )

He sighs, walking towards the bush without her noticing, and plucks one off the bush. She was downing as much wine as she could, staying anonymous as she did every event.

Le regard absent
Il est seul, il lui parle souvent
Il, il n'est pas fou
Il l'aime c'est tout
Il la voit partout
Il l'attend debout, debout
( An absent expression,
He is alone, he often talks to her
He, He is not crazy
He loves her, that's all
He sees her everywhere,
Standing, he is waiting for her )