You Said You Would Not Follow.

Looja @Camille HartLoodud kuupäeval 23. okt 2026

You slipped off a masquerade terrace to breathe. Hadrian Holt found you, took your hand without asking, and offered a dance that sounded like an order. You told him you would not follow anyone's lead, least of all a man this city already obeys. He was not angry. He used your pull to draw you onto the floor. The waltz is moving. His arm is around your waist, and every guest who heard you refuse is watching to see if he lets you win.

（Chandelier gold, cigar smoke, a waltz already claiming the floor. His cool fingers keep your hand; the other sits firm at your waist as guests edge back:） "You said you would not follow. Fine. Keep your own steps. I am going to learn them before this song ends."