Chapter Text
Before you start reading... Surprise!!!! Me And Mr. Wolf now has a cover!! 800 hits special :D
With the title:
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(Thank you, guys, for 800 hits!! 800 hugs from nyxen!!)
Elliot stirred awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Across the room, Chance sat on the couch with Spade curled up beside him, petting the bunny while eating a tart that a servant had brought him a few moments ago.
He slowly sat up, the sheets shifting under him and making a ruffling sound as he pulled the heavy blanket over his shoulders to keep himself warm. Chance looked at the bed from the sudden movement, checking if Elliot was fine. He saw that Elliot was awake and got up to sit on the bed with him instead.
Elliot still looked half-asleep, hair mussed and ears drooping. Chance broke a piece of his tart and offered it. Elliot accepted immediately, nibbling in small, sleepy bites.
Chance smirked, breaking the peaceful silence. “You know, you were snoring a little.”
“I-I was not!” Elliot protested as his eyes shot wide open.
“And drooling, I wonder what you were dreaming about,” he added.
Elliot’s entire face turned pink in embarrassment. “Chance! I don’t— I didn’t!” he exclaimed.
Chance just laughed and ruffled his hair apologetically while he pouted.
“Okay, it’s time to go practice dancing.” Chance told, tapping on the bed as a sign to get up.
“But, I’m still tired!” he complained, tugging the blanket on his shoulders closer.
He sighed and looked at Elliot. “Elliot, please? We need to finish this up so I can send you home,” he explained. “Your sister is going to get worried.”
“Noooo… I’m still resting,” he whined, already drifting off to sleep again.
“Elliot!”
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.
After finally coaxing Elliot into getting up, they headed downstairs to the ballroom. There were many servants there, most were either cleaning, decorating or setting up. Maya or Chance’s mother was nowhere to be seen, which was rather a good thing.
The ballroom was huge, with chandeliers glistening beneath the afternoon sun, white plants scattered around the room, multiple tables set up, and a big dance floor.
Chance demonstrated the classic DeRosa waltz, slipping into position as Elliot watched. He noticed how Chance shifted his weight ever so slightly before stepping, and the calm confidence in his posture. Each step seemed effortless, like he had done this dance a thousand times before.
Chance glanced over his shoulder and noticed Elliot staring in awe. “You ready to start practicing now?”
Elliot nodded before Chance asked for permission to take his hand. He agreed as he placed his hand in his. The warmth of his hand alone made Elliot’s ear twitch. Chance guided him into position, a tap on his chin to slightly lift it, and a hand on his shoulder and one on his waist, gentle but firm.
They started slow. Chance led the way, stepping with confidence, while Elliot attempted to match his rhythm. He’d only demonstrated it once, so Elliot didn’t remember a lot from it.
“Ow— okay, that was my foot,” Chance snorted.
“S-Sorry! Sorry!!” Elliot panicked, ears shooting up.
“You’re fine. Keep going.” Chance squeezed his hand reassuringly, “I’ve survived worse.”
It was going to be a long afternoon, wasn’t it…
.
.
While they were practicing, Elliot suddenly let out a sharp shriek, loud enough to bounce off the ballroom’s walls. Chance stopped mid-step as Elliot hopped backward, hands covering his mouth.
“I–I almost stepped on him!” Elliot blurted, ears pointing up as he pointed at Spade, who was lying down completely unbothered on the floor.
Chance laughed softly before scooping the black bunny in his arms. “He likes to wander between people’s legs. Sorry about that.”
Still pale from the scare, Elliot took a break and gulped down some water before returning to the dance floor.
After a few deep breaths, he nodded. “Okay… okay. I’m ready.”
They kept on practicing the steps, Chance guiding Elliot smoothly. He tried his best not to step on his feet this time. After a few more minutes of continuous tries, he finally did it.
“Great job!” Chance cheered, giving him a high five.
The next part of the waltz was a spin. Chance was drinking water in a corner before he invited Elliot back into position. Elliot took a deep breath before going back.
They started with the first part, going slowly and counting for the rhythm. They were doing pretty well, and the two were synchronized.
And then came the second part, the spin.
Chance spun him gently, but Elliot was distracted, and his feet tangled.
“Oh no— oh nonono—” Elliot wobbled.
He tipped forward—
—right into Chance’s chest.
Chance caught him easily with an arm around his waist. For a moment, the ballroom seemed to go quiet. Elliot’s palms were pressed lightly against Chance’s coat as he slowly lifted his head. Chance blinked, taken off guard by the sudden fall.
Their faces were close.
Too close. Too still. And way too aware.
Every heartbeat felt impossibly loud, and Elliot’s mind stuttered over a thousand thoughts he couldn’t quite say out loud.
Then, flustered, Elliot pushed himself upright. Chance stepped back just as quickly.
“A–Anyway!” Elliot squeaked, clearing his throat.
“Yes, well—let’s fix that timing,” Chance replied, just a shade too quickly.
Both pretended nothing happened… but their hearts racing said otherwise. Elliot would’ve rather fallen on the floor instead.
.
.
They were perfectly synchronized now, but Elliot wanted to try a few more times until he got it spot-on. Chance noticed Elliot was getting really focused and serious about it, so he decided to do a bit of teasing.
They both got back in position smoothly, but Chance kept his hand lower than it was supposed to be. Elliot saw it and quietly let out a little nervous ‘squeak’, trying not to draw too much attention from the servants nearby.
“C–Chance, your hand is too low…” Elliot whispered.
Chance grinned, tilting his head slightly. “Relax, I’m not even touching you.”
He froze for a moment before whispering back, “How am I supposed to relax when you’re…—”
“When I’m… what?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly.
Elliot’s face flushed into a deeper red before he pushed Chance’s face away, muttering under his breath as his ears twitched.
.
.
Around the forty-five-minute mark, they had done the full dance with no mistakes. Their awkward missteps they had made earlier were now smooth movements. Chance guided Elliot along the way, adjusting his posture here and helping him spin there.
The final practice began, this time with soft piano notes playing in the background. The afternoon light coming from outside was cast directly on them. The servants paused their work to watch the graceful waltz.
Elliot’s movements were cautious at first, but then with each turn and glide, he grew more assured. His ears twitched lightly in concentration, and his tail shifted to keep balance, yet there was a delicate elegance to his form that made him look ethereal.
As they moved across the ballroom, the waltz became an inner dialogue between them. Elliot’s hesitance faded completely, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. At one particularly flowing spin, Chance’s gaze softened, and he caught a glimpse of Elliot’s genuine smile.
He looks so pretty when he smiles, Chance thought, a warmth spreading across his chest that had nothing to do with the heat of the room.
They completed the dance, landing perfectly in a dip as the last notes lingered in the air. Spade, who had been watching quietly in a corner, twitched ears and hopped closer in approval. Elliot’s chest rose and fell rapidly, while a wide grin was plastered on his face. Chance allowed himself a small smile too, quietly proud—not only of the dance, but of Elliot himself.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Chance brushed a hair strand out of Elliot's face while Elliot’s smile lingered, bright and radiant. Chance felt a quiet certainty that this—this sight, this feeling—was exactly why he loved sharing moments like this with him.
.
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Chance kept on praising Elliot for his little performance, and as a little treat, they were going to visit a tailor to get an outfit for the ball! Elliot’s flickering confusion crossed his face, ears pointed slightly forward.
“Are we leaving the Nevermore Forest?” he questioned, fidgeting with his ears.
Chance responded, ruffling his hair a bit. “No, we aren’t, and we’re not going in the village, either.”
He went on to explain that in each forest, there’s a shifter world, almost like another dimension. Humans can also go in, but only if they are linked to a shifter with a spirit ribbon.
Spirit ribbons acted like a pass. A promise. A tiny shimmer connected to your pinky and a shifter’s pinky, showing trust and protection. Only visible to the two wearing it.
Elliot was skeptical about it, but still got his coat and boots on. Chance followed from behind after making sure Spade stayed in the living room with a servant. Poor Spade tried to come, pouting until he was distracted with a carrot.
Coat, gloves, and hat—then Chance opened the door for Elliot like he always did. He earned a gentle Thank you, truly his favorite phrase coming from Elliot.
They left the mansion, a servant waving cheerfully at Elliot as though he were already part of the household. Fewer guards were at the door today, likely accompanying Lady DeRosa with whatever she had to do.
They walked in the snow; the crunching of the snow was comforting, and they were leaving footprints in the snow that, hopefully, no one would follow later.
They walked for several minutes in silence before Elliot sparked a conversation about his bakery, pastries he used to make, and the customers he’d chat with each morning.
Then, shy but curiously, he asked, “What’s your favorite pastry, Chance?”
“My favorite?” Chance hummed. “Tarts, I guess.”
“Oh, is it because of the crust? I really like it too!”
“No, not really,” he said lightly, “My father used to make them for me, he really liked them.”
Elliot hesitated before asking, softer this time, “Used to? What happened…? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”
Chance didn’t flinch. Didn’t soften. His voice held no crack of grief—just fact. “He was executed for being a human.”
Elliot froze. A tiny inhale. His boots were stuck in the snow for half a second before he started walking again, guilt twisting in his stomach. “Ah— sorry. I didn’t mean to ask something like that—”
But the worry that followed wasn’t about the question. It was the sudden, terrible thought of What if they discover me? Would that be my fate too?
Chance’s gaze flicked toward him instantly, reading the panic he hadn’t voiced. “It’s okay, really.”
…
“Elliot,” he said more quietly, “just so you know… I’d never let you get hurt. Not now, not ever.”
Elliot nodded slowly, trying to distract himself from the topic. “Thanks.”
The conversation drifted away as the forest went silent. Elliot focused on the trees ahead, trying to shake off the heaviness from earlier. Chance matched his pace easily, letting the calm surround them.
They continued down the path, the snow deepening with each step they took. The forest animals were out playing today, squirrels chasing each other, birds singing graceful melodies and a sleeping koala in a tree.
Elliot noticed buildings coming into view, but weren’t they in a forest? The ground seemed to melt, the snow turning into stone. He gasped before glancing at Chance, who looked too calm for this situation.
Chance tied a spirit ribbon around his pinky and Elliot’s. A little sparkle happened before it faded slightly. Elliot’s shift was a potion helping him, so he wouldn’t see the world fully without it.
He looked around in awe; it looked like a city. His mother had brought him to visit one once. It was fantastic, and he’d like to go again, but here he was! Chance chucked when he saw Elliot’s excitement and his tail practically bouncing.
Chance guided him to the tailor’s shop. Everything around them looked high-tech. Elliot saw some things he’d never seen before. While walking around, he spotted a unicycle, but… with an additional wheel? (a bike) How strange, but wonderful!
There was a fancy little house on wheels waiting outside one of the shops he’s seen in fairytales. Chance explained that it was a carriage and was used for faster transport. Elliot was fascinated by all these little things. I guess that’s what you get for living in a small village.
.
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They soon arrived in front of the shop, where there were fabrics of plenty of different colors, clothing types, buttons and tools. Many customers were in, but luckily, Chance had a reservation.
“Hello, I’m here for a reservation,” he said to the receptionist.
“Name for the reservation?” she asked politely before pulling up a long list.
“DeRosa.” Chance answered, lightly tapping his foot.
The receptionist found his name before guiding him to a tailor. “Right this way.”
A young lady, maybe in her twenties, was going to assist them today. She was also a bunny, and she said her name was Aurora. She had long brown hair that was put in a neat ponytail with a nice dark purple suit on.
“Hello! I’ve been waiting for you, Mr. DeRosa!” she started, her smile bright. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. How’s your Ma?”
“She’s fine, just causing trouble as always,” he shrugged.
She got up from her chair and took her measuring tools. She was about to start before she tapped on Chance's blazer, indicating that he needed to remove it.
Chance moved a bit and revealed Elliot. “I’m not here for me, but for him.”
“Ah! You should’ve told me!” Aurora apologized before shaking Elliot’s hand. Elliot tried not to grimace at the sudden contact and gave an awkward smile.
“Sorry, did you not like touch?” she realized from his body language, her ears twitching in disappointment. “Very sorry about that!”
“It’s okay,” he smiled, scratching the back of his head. “It happens a lot.”
After having a small conversation between the two of them, she politely asked him to remove his shirt. Elliot stiffened immediately, his gaze shifting to Chance. Under his shirt was his binder; he was transfem, and he wasn’t ready for Chance to know that.
((Author’s Note: If top surgeries were a thing at the time, Elliot would’ve done it. However, it’s not. And, no, I didn’t make Elliot trans to sexualize him ^^ thanks for understanding!!))
Chance thought he was shy and nervous from having to take his measurements because he didn’t like physical touch, but he didn’t understand why Elliot’s arms were crossed against his chest.
He whispered something to the lady that Chance couldn’t quite catch, but something about uncomfortable, secret, and out. What could be making Elliot uncomfortable?
“Sorry, Mr. DeRosa, but he requested to get his measurements taken without you here,” she explained, giving him the sweetest smile possible.
Chance raised an eyebrow but listened anyway. “Is that so? If then, I’ll sit outside.”
Elliot was glad he didn’t ask any other questions, since it would’ve gotten uncomfortable really fast. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but he was glad she understood instead of judging.
He took off his shirt, still nervous about it, as she brought her tools closer to him. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel a pair of cool hands on him, but instead, there was a little ribbon wrapped around his waist.
When he slowly opened his eyes, he saw a ribbon floating, taking his waist measurements. Aurora was writing the numbers down in centimetres and inches on a notepad with careful precision, while double-checking all of the numbers. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
Measuring was done in a few minutes, Elliot put his shirt back on and thanked her profusely. She smiled brightly at him and let Chance back in. He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes before he sat down next to Elliot.
Chance told him that it would be a great opportunity if he chose what he wanted, like fabric, colors, and buttons, for his clothes, while he talked with Aurora about the pricing. Elliot hesitated about it, but quickly left to explore.
His head snapped towards Aurora, “So, what would be a good price range for today?”
“Starts from fifty embers (five hundred dollars), but it adds with the other stuff.”
He raised a brow, suspicious, “That’s pretty cheap today, how come?”
“He’s a smaller type and discount,” Aurora said while putting her materials away carefully.
While they were talking, Elliot was walking around the shop, curiously, trying to find something he would like. There were many things to choose from, and he was indecisive; he also had to remind himself that he wasn’t using his money for any of this.
He looked at the various fabrics first. He wanted something comfortable so he wouldn’t have to whine the entire night. Cashmere, Merino Wool, and Silk were his go-to options for now. Cashmere was soft and lightweight, Merino Wool was warm and fine, and Silk was elegant and breathable.
The next station he wanted to check out was colors. He went down the red aisle since it’s the color he likes the most. Three particular reds sparked an interest in his eyes.
Camelian, Burgundy or Cardinal.
He took one of the burgundy cards out of the many, happy with his choice.
The last thing he had to get was buttons; shell buttons were the ones he liked the most, and they came in different designs. Star, hearts, square—you name it! He decided to take the stars, three black ones, before heading back.
The door was opened, and the chatter behind the door paused. Chance and Aurora both looked at the door, but relaxed when they saw Elliot.
“Welcome back,” she started, guiding him into a chair. “I see you have some things you like. Would you like me to take notes of them?”
Elliot nodded as he sat down, laying the card, buttons and the fabric on the desk softly. He thanked her happily. She went on about the price.
Five embers for the fabric, one ember for the shell buttons, and the color for free. Elliot thought it was pretty cheap until Chance whispered in his ear the price, sixty dollars.
He stared at Chance, flabbergasted. He felt bad about spending so much money, but the wolf kept on telling him it was a treat, and he should worry so much and enjoy. He was getting the princess treatment, but didn’t dare to say no.
After she noted the order down, she told him he was done, and was expecting to see both of them the night before the event. They both thanked her for her service before leaving the shop.
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Walking around the ”city” was nice, but Elliot still couldn’t shake off the fact that they were still in the forest. The air smelled faintly of warm bread and sweet strawberries, drifting from somewhere nearby.
Just as he turned towards the scent, Chance perked up, “Do you want to visit that café? It’s one of my favorites.” he questioned, softly humming a tune.
Elliot glanced at him before smiling warmly. “Of course, we can go.”
They walked closer to each other, fingers brushing before they held hands gently. The only form of physical contact Elliot wasn’t nervous about around Chance—soft, simple and grounding. They had known each other for a few days, yet somehow, it felt like years.
The path wasn’t as snowy as Rosewood. Instead, pale stone soaked up the sunlight, warming up the air. It was foreign to Elliot; he’s never been this hot outside. He tugged his coat, the heat hitting his shoulder. Chance didn’t understand how he wasn’t cold, shivering dramatically before taking Elliot’s coat and slipping it over his shoulder.
LaBelle Café came into view—white stone, blue shutters and tiny roses carved into the doorframe. Even the sign looked delicate, curling like calligraphy. Chance explained that the Glacières owned it, and other French-looking buildings, which all made sense.
A soft chime rang as they stepped in.
White roses sat in little vases on each table, old utensils gleamed under soft lighting, and the whole place smelled like sugar and pastry cream. A calm lady in white-and-blue approached, her smile gentle.
“Bonjour! Table for two?”
“Yes, thank you.” Chance hummed and followed the waitress.
She seated them by a window and handed them their menus, “I’ll be your waitress for today. If you need anything, I’ll be right over.” Then she left them in the quiet calm.
Elliot scanned the prices first—eyes widening, as expected—before settling on a mille-feuille, a few madeleines, and peppermint tea. He didn’t want to pick anything too expensive. Chance, meanwhile, chose chocolate breads, macarons, and a tarte tatin without a hint of hesitation.
Elliot stayed oddly quiet, fingers tracing the menu, mind drifting away. Chance noticed kept glancing at him, but neither of them spoke. Until their attention was captured by the waitress’s nail tapping softly on the table.
“Excuse me, but,” she said with a polite smile, “are you both ready to order?”
Chance cleared his throat and gave their orders with that effortless confidence he always seemed to carry, while Elliot handed his more shyly. The waitress wrote everything down, wishing them a pleasant wait, and leaving them be.
Elliot’s gaze drifted to the window again, watching shifters walk by with baskets or armfuls of books—fox tails swishing, antlers decorated with ribbons, a cat shifter yawning lazily in the sun. It was strange and beautiful, a place humming with life.
Chance watched him, chin resting on his palm, elbows resting on the table. The sunlight hit Elliot’s hair, making it shimmer more than usual, and he didn’t bother pretending he was staring.
Their orders came out quicker than expected—steam curling off Chance’s pastries, Elliot’s peppermint tea filling the air with sweetness. The plates were arranged so neatly that it felt wrong to touch them.
They both ate in silence, forks clinking softly against porcelain. Elliot took tiny bites of his mille-feuille, eyes drifting to the flaky layers and the window.
Chance noticed.
“You don’t like the pastry?” he asked, voice casual but eyes sharp enough to read them.
Elliot blinked, snapping out of whatever spiral he was in. “No—I do. I’m just… thinking.”
He tilted his head. “About?”
“...Everything,” his gaze dropped to his tea.
Chance didn’t push, but he leaned forward a bit, elbows on the table, and his expression softening in that way always knocked the breath out of Elliot.
“Then think out loud,” he murmured, “I like listening to you.”
Elliot froze. Spoon halfway to his mouth. Ears twitching like startled wings.
He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at his tea with sudden interest as if it could save him from combustion.
Chance didn’t rush him. Just waited, eyes patient, warm enough to melt butter.
Outside, the snow stuck on the window, but Elliot didn’t notice. His thoughts felt tangled—too full, too sharp, too warm.
And knowing Chance wanted to know all of them?
That was the terrifying part.
Elliot stared down at his food, the fork trembling slightly between his fingers. The café around them felt muted—soft voices, quiet music, plates clinking—but his heartbeat was so loud he swore Chance could hear it.
He inhale once, then twice… then it just spilled out.
“I’m thinking about… how everything keeps happening so fast,” he murmured, not daring to look up. “I was supposed to just… stay in Rosewood. Bake bread, go home, sleep, repeat. That was supposed to be my whole life.”
His ears drooped lower.
“And now I’m here. In… whatever this place is. Some secret world inside a forest I didn’t even know existed. Learning waltzes, pretending I know how to act at a ball, trying not to embarrass myself every five minutes.”
He poked at the pastry as if it were going to save him.
“And I keep thinking about how I don’t belong here. As everyone can tell, I’m human. Like, at any moment something’s going to go wrong, and you’ll realize this whole thing was a mistake.”
Chance didn’t interrupt—not even a small hum. Just watched him, steady and warm.
Elliot’s voice softened, trembling at the edges.
“And then there’s you,” he swallowed. “You’re… confusing. Because you’re supposed to be terrifying, you know? A wolf shifter. A killer. I should be scared of you. Everyone else is.”
His fingers curled around the edge of the plate.
“But you’re not scary. You’re—” he stopped, ears flicking hard. “You’re gentle. And patient. And you… look at me like I’m not a problem you have to fix.”
He finally risked a glance up. “And that’s… really hard to deal with.”
A tiny, nervous laugh slipped out.
“I keep trying not to get too attached. I keep telling myself you’re just helping me because you’re nice, and because you said you would. But then you do things like carry my coat or praise my dancing or—” his voice caught.
“Or say you’d never let me get hurt.”
Elliot shook his head, covering his face with one hand. “And I just… don’t know what to do with that. Or with… you.”
He exhaled shakily, ears burning crimson.
“Sorry. That was a lot. I didn’t mean to— I just— you told me to think out loud,” he blinked at his tea, embarrassed beyond repair.
Chance set his cup down slowly, the porcelain clinking against the table in a way that felt way too loud after Elliot’s ramble. He didn’t laugh, didn’t tease, just looked at him—really looked at him—like Elliot had just handed him something precious and delicate.
“...I’m glad you talked to me about that,” he finally murmured, voice low and steady. “I like hearing what goes on inside of that head of yours, even the parts that scare you.”
Elliot glaced up, cheeks fading into a faint rose. Chance leaned in a bit closer on the table, gaze softening.
“And for the record…” he ttiltedhis head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a burden. You’re not a problem. And you’re certainly not something I’m ‘fixing’.”
“I don’t spend my time on people I don’t care about.”
Elliot’s twitched ears hard. Chance continued, quieter now. A warmth beneath the words he wasn’t quite saying.
“You’re easy to want around, Elliot. Even when you’re overthinking. Even when you’re flustered. Even when you’re convinced you don’t belong…”
He paused, eyes flicking briefly to Elliot’s fingers nervously twisting his napkin. “You do. With me, you do.”
Elliot blinked, stunned.
Chance looked away for a moment, exhaling as if he’d revealed more than he meant to. “I don’t help you because I’m nice. I help you because I want to. Because it feels… right.”
He shrugged lightly, but it didn’t hide the softness in his voice. “And if you’re getting a little attached—”
He met Elliot’s eyes again. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
Chance reached out, gently nudging Elliot’s hand with a gloved fingertip. Barely a touch, barely anything… but enough to make Elliot’s breath hitch.
“Relax,” he said softly. “You don’t have to know what to do with me yet.”
His smile grew a little crooked, a little warmer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you, Chance…”
“Anytime, Elliot.”
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.
After finishing their snacks and leaving, they went walking around the street. Chance was explaining some buildings to Elliot, who looked around curiously but excitedly.
Chance thought it was a great moment to give him a tour around the city, just in case he ever wants to come again.
They went from shop to shop, the street was busied with shifters going to work, hanging out or going out to buy. Elliot's eyes darted from building to building, taking in the designs that made everything seem normal.
Chance guided him along, occasionally pointing out things he’d like. He leaned slightly closer, absorbing it all as if he might forget it the moment it passed.
A few blocks later, they reached a taller, more extravagant area—decorative lamps, music drifting faintly between buildings, people dressed a little too nicely for an afternoon stroll.
Chance slowed. “Okay, so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s my mother’s casino.”
Elliot blinked up at the massive building. Its gold accents shimmered even in daylight, and there was a carved sign above the entranc hat looked like it cost more than his wardrobe.
“That’s… yours?” Elliot whispered.
He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Well, not mine yet. But I grew up around the place. Learned how to shuffle cards before I knew how to write my name, which—yeah, questionable parenting, I know.”
Elliot was too focused on the structure in front of him, eyes wide with wonder, awe, something close to disbelief.
“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly. “You grew up somewhere beautiful.”
He looked at him instead of the casino, “Not as beautiful as the company I’ve got now.”
Elliot’s eyes snapped towards him, and his breath caught. Chance’s ears warmed, but he didn’t take it back.
He nodded towards the door. “Wanna see inside? I’ll show you the boring, good parts. And, the places you’re technically not supposed to be unless you’re with me.”
“I… yes. I’d like that,” he hesitated—just for a heartbeat—before nodding.
He grinned, a little reckless, a little helplessly fond. “Then come on. I’ll show you my world.”
And they went through the doors, their arms accidentally brushing, but neither of them actually bothered to mention it.
.
.
.
Shifters sat at poker tables, betting obnoxious amounts of money. Music hummed low and smooth, coins chimed, cards slapped against felt tables, and voices blended into a constant, glittering murmur. The atmosphere was lustful and confident, but somewhere, Elliot felt out of place.
Chance noticed and slowed his pace. He didn’t hold Elliot’s hand, but stayed close enough for their shoulders to brush. Close enough to be reassuring.
“It’s louder at night,” he said quietly, but loud enough for Elliot to hear him. “This is the calm version.”
Elliot nodded, still looking around. Dealers were shuffling cards with practiced ease, drinks were being passed around under the crystal lighting, and roulette wheels were spinning.
“It’s… a lot,” he murmured with an awkward smile. “But it’s still kind of amazing.”
Chance smiled. “Yeah, it is. First time I saw it as a kid, I thought it was magic.”
They passed low rows of card tables, some guy was yelling about how the other cheated. He was getting escorted by security.
They kept walking, moving away into the quieter corners ofthe place. A couple was drinking and laughing together, a fox and a cat. Cute.
“This part is usually off limits to normal guests,” Chance explained. “But, nobody’s stopping us.”
Normally, there are more people here, but that’s during the night. It becomes ever so lively with shifters making out, dancing or messing around. There’s nightshows as well, however, they’re more ‘mature’.
Elliot’s steps slowed, his voice dropping. “Is it okay that I’m here? I’m not a VIP, or anything.”
Chance didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah, it is. You’re with me, so that’s kinda like a free pass.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” he responded, warmth creeping up his neck.
They stopped near a staircase that led to a balcony overlooking the main floor. A table and seats were set there, a perfect moment to rest.
Chance sat on a seat while Elliot looked at the view from the railing. From above, the casino looked even larger—like a sea of light and movement.
“The view’s nice… I can see all of the buildings from here,” Elliot murmured, both of his palms pressed against his cheeks.
“It is.” Chance responded quietly, staring at Elliot.
Chance watched him for a while. The way his eyes shimmered with the lights below, he looked magical—ethereal even.
“Why bring me here?” Elliot asked, still staring at the buildings.
“Hm?” he huffed. “Because I want you to see where I came from, my world. And because I like it better with you.”
Silence stretched between them, not awkward… just full.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Do you wanna stay here for a bit longer?”
“I’d like that,” he whispered, “I’d really like that, Chance.”
They stared in silence—warm, comfortable silence. The sun was slowly setting, making the sky a pale blue and baby pink, with a tint of orange.
A worker came over with a tray of drinks and offered one. Chance took one, but Elliot didn’t take any, claiming he had enough for today. They were left once again to admire the city.
Elliot wished he had brought his camera; at least he’ll keep this in his memories.
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.
.
Before heading back, Chance had insisted on getting more stuff for Elliot, even though they had already spent so much. Despite Elliot’s protests, they still went.
At the bookstore, he got a new bookmark and journal, even though choosing between things wasn’t easy.
Chance brought him to a toy store for the fun of it, but they ended up actually purchasing a product from there, a bunny plush that made a squeaking sound.
At the décor shop, he chose a few new plants for his room; however, fake plants since he knew they would die after a week of taking care of them.
“I spent so much today,” he whined, upset. “Chance… I’d have to repay you!”
Chance shook his head. “ It’s for today’s hard work, let me spoil you a little.”
Elliot didn’t argue after that. Chance held his bags with ease as he looked around, pointing at things he would’ve gotten. Chance would’ve let buy them, but it was time to leave.
.
.
.
Evening settled in, and the sky turned into soft, warmer hues. Elliot reminded him he had to make supper today. Chance walked him home, carrying his bags while he rambled about various topics.
The walk was nice, but it was getting colder as they were reaching the exit, the stone difting into grass covered in snow. Elliot put his coat back on before they walked through, the cold immediately clinging to his shoulders.
The moment they left the invisible border, the spirit ribbon broke off both of their fingers, shattering into little bits of magic, then finally disappeared.
Chance kept a steady pace next to Elliot, the crunch of the snow under their boots the only sound for a while. The air was crisp, filling their lungs with a refreshing chill.
Elliot walked close, his fingers brushing against Chance’s as he adjusted the coat around his shoulders. The warmth from it seeped through him, contrasting sharply with the icy air, and he found himself relaxing a little more than usual.
The village was, slowly but surely, coming into view. They pointed out familiar landmarks as a game—the frozen fountain near village square, small cottages that looked like something that came out of a storybook, and the old bakery with smoke lazily curling in the corner.
They kept on walking, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Chance glanced at Elliot, noticing the way the snowflakes caught in his hair and eyelashes, how his cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, and the little smile he gave; even a gust of wind made the snow sparkle around them.
Chance’s chest warmed with something he didn’t quite name, a mix of fondness and something deeper, though he kept it buried behind his usual teasing grin.
As they neared Elliot’s home, the streetlight grew brighter, and the golden hour was making everything look extra pretty, like something straight out of a rom-com.
When they reached his doorstep, Elliot paused, hands tucked in his coat, and glanced up at Chance. The quiet of the late evening seemed to stretch just for them, a pause before the real world pulled them back in.
A small and polite voice cut through the silence with a bright smile. “Thank you, Chance.”
“Anytime.” Chance offered a small smile in return.
They lingered a while longer in the dim glow of the porch light before Elliot stepped inside with his bags, waving softly, leaving Chance outside with the lingering warmth of the evening and the faint echo of Elliot’s laughter in his mind.
What a nice evening.