Chapter 152 Chapter 153

Chapter 152 Chapter 153
They were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by high Lords and Ladies, influential gentlemen and gentlewomen. Perhaps it would not be Lady Beaumont tucking tail between her legs as the gossip of her illegitimate grandchild began circling. Perhaps Denis would be the one to escape, made a fool by no one but himself. 
The music paused, then began anew. The dance was a slow foxtrot. Ravi’s hand came down to touch the small of his back. Despite the gentle touch, it burned straight through his suit, his shirt, marking his very skin.
Someone had taught Ravi the dance because he moved effortlessly, guiding Denis along as their feet fell into rhythm. Slow-slow-quick-quick, their feet danced. They weren’t so much swaying as floating across the floor.
“Denis,” Ravi said. 
The blonde closed his eyes hard, forcing his breathing to drop from high in his throat. He reminded himself that he was Lord Denis Arnold, that he had restored House Arnold to its former glory, that he could shift markets, topple giants, and had enough money to rival Britain's GNP. All of that is irrelevant, especially when compared to the legendary Ravi Baldwin.
“Denis, look at me.”
He didn’t want to heed the dark voice. Was quite certain he’d crumble on the spot if he looked from Ravi’s chest to somewhere as terrifying as his eyes. They twirled, the room fuzzy in his peripheral vision. Once they stabilised, moving back and forth, he forced his eyes to travel upward. Following the long column of his throat, past the square jaw, plump lips, straight nose, to finally… 
They had always reminded him of gemstones and half of lush greenery. Sometimes it changed depending on the time of day, gleaming treasures in the shade, an endless garden in the sun. Now, the sun had set below the horizon, and all Denis could see was a blazing emerald.
His breath stuttered even as he fought to grip the cracking wall inside, patching the damaged stone, holding it together using his fingernails. The fractures were growing into a chasm. Soon, there would be more holes than walls. His smile fit him badly. He knew it did. But it was the best he could offer.
They twirled again.
“It’s good to see you.” He hated feeling like this. Like his tongue was too big for his mouth, like his skin was fitting too tightly over his face. He gulped a breath, his ribcage acting as a prison rather than protection. It was hot in here; sweat beaded on his upper lip. 
In contrast, Ravi was cool and collected, so beautiful it hurt to look at him. He was a stranger, but he was still Ravi. Familiar with his raven hair, sculpted face, and dimpled smile. Denis’s memory of tracing those lips was so vivid, he wondered if it had been five years or five minutes since his fingertips tasted the cupid's bow.
There was a distance between them. Of course, there was. Despite how Ravi didn’t seem upset or angry, and he had reason to be, he was neither giving Denis that soft smile, the one that curled his lips and crinkled his eyes. He wasn’t looking at Denis like the sun rose and set with the blonde, with a hunger uncontested by anything the blonde had experienced before or after. He had never questioned Ravi’s coveting of him. It had been as natural as the deep blue of the sea. Now, to watch Emerald without hunger, it crippled him. Stunned him to the point where he stumbled, the lad having to catch him on the quick-quick step. 
“Sorry.” His hands were clammy. Ravi could feel it, their hands clasped in dance, not passion. It had been five years, he thought fervently. He was supposed to be better than this. Five years of refining his mask, and it cracked after seconds in front of the raven-haired lad.
“I got you.”
Denis nodded, his eyes drifting away from the emerald spotlight to stare somewhere around Ravi’s mouth. There was a faint dusting of dark lining his jaw. The lad had shaved before the gala, but despite it, the stubble was fading into view. 
“It’s nice seeing you, Denis.”
The blonde nodded, glancing up quickly before his eyes flickered down. He was acting like a shy schoolboy. This was unbecoming. And yet he was powerless to do anything about it. The heavy gazes of the crowd watching a weight on his back. It made him almost curve beneath its pressure. Shaking his head, he forced his posture to straighten.
Enough, he told himself, finding an ounce of strength in some dusty corner. Don’t embarrass yourself. 
“It’s nice seeing you too.”
Another twirl, their feet moving rapidly. Ravi pushed close as they manoeuvred past another couple. Their chests lined up, fitting together perfectly, like they were moulded for one another, a lock and a key. They drifted apart, the cold leaving Denis goosefleshed.
“You look good.” Denis wished he didn’t sound like he was drowning. “All proper suite.”
Ravi shot him a smile, showing a dimple. Denis wanted to put his finger in it, or maybe map out the crater with his lips. His stomach was nothing but knots. 
“Says you.” Ravi ducked close, pouring that low timbre directly into Denis’s ear. His eardrum overfilled as he was dazed by the low melody. “You always looked impeccable.”
Ravi wouldn’t flirt with him. That would be stupid, presumptuous. Denis smiled, his teeth too big to fit in his mouth. At university, the blonde had been the flirt, had talked quickly, fluttered his eyelashes quicker, and Augustine had nicknamed him Flirty Blondie. Now, Denis didn’t even know where to begin, and was quite certain he’d burst into tears before managing a comeback that was suggestive in any sense of the word. 
Someone called Ravi’s name. The lad turned away, hollering back. It sounded like Wood, maybe. Denis felt cold in the wake of Ravi’s attention. Like he’d for a second felt vibrant and important, just to cool like an ember, a remnant of days ablaze.
This had been a bad idea. Denis had them now and again, once he’d invested in real estate in the small city of Begaranda in northern Germany, certain the proximity to the Alps would flood the city with tourists and business. Instead, the city had lost its one manufacturing facility, the booming city turning into a ghost town within half a year. Denis had lost tens of millions, not a big mistake all things considered, but a mistake nonetheless.