The bar sparkled like liquid starlight, casting glimmers over Annie's dress and Malvor's suit as they returned, laughter lingering in the air. The androgynous bartender welcomed them back with a wink, already concocting something glowing and suspicious.
"This one is called Moon in the Undertow," they purred, sliding Annie a glass that swirled from icy silver to midnight blue with each breath she took. "Flavored like memories you almost forgot."
Annie sniffed it. "It smells like sugar and secrets."
"Perfect," Malvor said approvingly. "And this?" he added, pointing at his own drink as it was delivered, a deep, ominous shade of black with a blue flame dancing on top.
The bartender smirked. "Depth Charge. Do not sip unless you want to hear the stars scream."
"I absolutely do," Malvor declared, lifting the glass to toast. "To bad decisions and dancing with gods."
They clinked glasses and drank.
Moments later, Annie blinked and whispered, "I think my knees are laughing."
Malvor swayed on his feet slightly, smiling like someone who had just remembered all the naughty things he was planning. "Perfect timing, my little shipwreck. Shall we dance?"
Without waiting for an answer, he pulled her gently to the center of the dance floor.
The music pulsed, deep bass, oceanic rhythms, layers of shimmering sound that rippled through their bodies. The floor beneath their feet shimmered like starlight on water, shifting with every movement.
Annie started hesitant. Then the drink hit, her body loosened, her smile grew, and she fell into rhythm with Malvor, their steps effortless, swirling through glowing currents of dancers and magic.
He spun her once, twice, laughing when she stumbled into his chest.
"I think gravity is drunk," she murmured.
"No, no, that is just me, Sea Glass," he grinned, resting his forehead against hers.
They kept moving, their bodies closer with each beat. The music surged around them, melting the world away into color, heat, and motion. His hands slid along her back. Hers curled into his shirt. Their foreheads pressed together, breath shared in the smallest space.
"You are stunning," he whispered. "Have I told you tonight that you are devastating?"
"You have," she whispered back, her voice husky, "but I would not mind hearing it again."
His hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush to him, and he murmured against her lips, "You are devastating, irresistible, the reason I am seriously considering misbehaving in a room full of gods."
"Then you better behave, Chaos."
He smirked. "Unlikely."
She laughed, but it caught halfway out of her throat when he kissed her, long and slow and deep. The kind of kiss that made the rest of the world flicker like a broken illusion.
Around them, the club pulsed, throbbed, came alive.
But all that existed was his mouth on hers. His hands. Her racing heart. And the way they moved together, perfectly out of sync with everyone else, and yet somehow more in rhythm than ever.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and buzzed, Annie stared up at him with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
"Remind me what was in that drink again?"
Malvor licked his lips, dazed. "Poor decisions."
She laughed again and pulled him back into the dance.
They were a mesh of bodies. A mixing of souls. Moving as one. Like waves in the madness of the ocean.
The music surged to a new high, sultry, rhythmic, seductive. From the center of the dance floor, waves of magic pulsed in time with the beat.
Yara emerged like a crashing tide.
Her dress shimmered like ocean spray, clinging and sparkling as if it were poured onto her skin. Her hips swayed with a natural, unapologetic rhythm as she glided across the floor straight toward Malvor and Annie, who were still tangled together from their last dance.
"I hate to interrupt," Yara said, her voice a silky purr, "but it is the day of my birth, darling."
Malvor laughed softly. "Of course it is."
She slipped between them without waiting for permission, twining her arms around Malvor's neck as the music shifted once more into something deeper, liquid seduction turned into sound.
Malvor did not pull away. He let Yara take his hands and guide him into her rhythm. It was fluid and showy, full of dips and dramatic turns, nothing like the quiet intimacy he had just shared with Annie.
But it was fun. Yara was always so much fun.
Yara was all movement and sparkle, laughter and flirtation. She twirled under his arm, pressing her body close again, running her fingers up the back of his neck with practiced ease. He grinned, meeting her energy beat for beat, their chemistry explosive and theatrical.
At the bar, Annie slowly sipped her drink, something cool, blue, and slightly fizzy. She watched with a calm detachment, her eyes following their movements. She did not feel jealousy twist in her chest. She did not feel bitter or wounded.
She was too old for that.
Too tired.
Too experienced.
Too sure of herself.
Instead, she smiled faintly, quietly nursing her glass as the god of chaos spun with the goddess of oceans. He was laughing. Really laughing. And that… that was something rare.
She liked that look on him. He looks good happy. He looks younger. More carefree.
She let herself simply enjoy the sight: two divine beings lighting up a dance floor in a burst of blue and gold, shaking the heavens with their presence. Let them burn bright for a moment. Let them have the attention.
Let them have fun.
Annie leaned back on the bar stool, one leg crossed over the other, swirling her drink and letting the beat of the music wash over her like a wave.
He would find her again.
He always did.
And when he did… she would still be there. Smiling. Waiting. Untouched by anything but the quiet knowledge that she was the one he always came home to.