They stand side by side in front of the ballroom doors.
Warm light spills out through the glass panels, carrying with it soft music and the low murmur of voices inside. The moment feels suspended-like the world is holding its breath with them.
Pyrrha reaches up, fingers lightly brushing Erik's jacket as she smooths a crease near his chest. She adjusts his collar next, careful and precise, as if this small ritual matters more than the dance itself.
"You look very handsome," she says quietly, almost shyly.
Erik chuckles softly. "You're biased."
"Maybe," she admits, smiling. "But that doesn't make it untrue."
He looks down at her, his expression gentler than usual. "You've been fixing my clothes for a full minute now."
She pauses, hands still resting lightly against him. "Is that a complaint?"
"No," he replies immediately. "Just... don't stop yet."
Her smile softens, warmth blooming in her eyes. She gives his jacket one last careful adjustment, then lets her hands linger for a moment longer than necessary.
"There," she murmurs. "Perfect."
He shakes his head slightly. "That's not the jacket."
She looks up at him, caught-but not embarrassed. "Then what is it?"
"This," he says quietly, gesturing between them. "You. Standing here with me."
Her breath hitches just a little.
"You always say things like that so calmly," she says. "As if you don't realize what they do to me."
He smiles, fond and sincere. "I do realize it. I just... like watching you smile afterward."
She laughs softly, then grows quiet again. "I was nervous," she admits. "Not about the dance. Just... about tonight."
"Why?" he asks gently.
"Because moments like this feel rare for me," she says. "Being seen without expectations. Being wanted for who I am."
He reaches up now, brushing his thumb lightly against her knuckles. "Then let's make it simple," he says. "Tonight isn't about anyone else. It's just us."
Her eyes shine. "You promise?"
He nods without hesitation. "I promise."
The music inside swells, and the doors open again, light spilling across the floor.
Pyrrha takes a steadying breath.
"Ready?" she asks softly.
Erik offers his arm, a quiet smile on his lips. "With you? Always."
She slips her hand through his arm, leaning into him just enough to feel grounded.
Together, they step forward-into the light, the music, and the night.
As Erik pushes the ballroom doors open, warm light and music spill out to greet them. The room is alive-soft lanterns glow overhead, strings of lights reflect off polished floors, and students fill the space with laughter and motion.
Before they can take more than a few steps inside-
"There they are!"
Yang practically materializes in front of them, hands planted on her hips, golden eyes lighting up with unmistakable excitement.
"Wow," she says, looking between the two of them. "You guys took your time. I was starting to think you chickened out."
Erik raises an eyebrow. "We considered it."
Pyrrha laughs softly. "He's joking."
"Mostly," Erik adds.
Yang grins wider and circles them once, openly appraising. "Okay, rude. You two look way too good together."
Pyrrha's cheeks warm instantly. "Yang-"
"Nope," Yang cuts in, holding up a finger. "No deflecting. This is a fact. I don't make the rules."
She leans in conspiratorially toward Erik. "You clean up nice, mystery man."
Erik chuckles. "I'll take that as approval."
"Oh, it absolutely is," Yang says. Then she straightens and gestures grandly toward the dance floor behind her. "Welcome to the chaos. Drinks are over there, music's already started, and Ruby's been vibrating with excitement for the last ten minutes."
Pyrrha glances past Yang, taking in the room, then looks back at Erik. Her hand tightens slightly around his arm.
"Still okay?" she asks quietly.
He nods. "Yeah. You?"
She smiles, steadier now. "Yes."
Yang notices the exchange and softens just a little. "Alright," she says, stepping aside. "Go on. Have fun. Try not to outshine everyone too hard."
"No promises," Erik replies dryly.
Yang laughs and waves them in. "That's the spirit!"
They move past her and into the ballroom fully, the music swelling around them. Pyrrha leans closer, her voice just for him.
"I'm glad we came," she says.
Erik smiles. "Me too."
And together, they step into the dance-ready for whatever the night decides to bring.
The music shifts-slow, steady, deliberate.
Erik doesn't hesitate this time.
He offers his hand with a small, knowing smile. "Ready?"
Pyrrha takes it immediately. "Always."
They step onto the dance floor together.
There's no awkward pause.
No searching for rhythm.
Their feet move almost automatically, guided by muscle memory built over several quiet evenings in empty halls and borrowed practice rooms. Erik leads smoothly, not rigid-adjusting when needed, trusting her timing. Pyrrha follows with ease, her movements confident and graceful, refined by years of discipline.
They fit.
From the very first step, it's clear this isn't improvised.
On the sidelines-
Ruby's eyes widen. "Wait... hold on."
Yang squints. "Okay, no. That's not beginner dancing."
"They practiced," Weiss says flatly. "Of course they did."
Ruby gasps. "They practiced without telling us?!"
Blake watches closely, arms crossed, expression thoughtful. "They look comfortable. Like this isn't new."
Yang grins. "Oh, it's new. They're just terrifyingly prepared."
At another table-
Nora leans forward, practically vibrating. "REN. THEY'RE GOOD."
Ren nods calmly. "Their timing is consistent. They've rehearsed."
Jaune stares. "Erik told me he wasn't good at dancing."
Frost snorts. "That was a strategic lie."
Back on the floor, Erik guides Pyrrha through a slow turn, his hand steady at her waist. She spins smoothly, dress flowing, then settles back against him without missing a beat.
"You're doing great," she murmurs.
He smiles down at her. "You're an excellent teacher."
"I had a very cooperative student."
"I had strong motivation," he replies lightly.
She laughs softly, eyes bright.
They sway in time with the music, close enough that the rest of the room fades away. There's no rush, no pressure-just the quiet satisfaction of shared effort paying off.
Yang crosses her arms, clearly pleased. "Yeah. They're officially that couple."
Weiss sighs. "I don't like how well this works."
Ruby beams. "I love how well this works!"
Blake's gaze softens. "They earned this."
As the song reaches its end, Erik leans in slightly.
"Still okay?" he asks.
Pyrrha answers without hesitation. "Very."
The music slows to a stop, applause rippling lightly through the room-not loud, not showy, but genuine.
They don't bow.
They don't pose.
They simply stay where they are for a moment longer, smiling at each other-sharing the quiet triumph of preparation, trust, and choosing to be here together.
For once, the attention doesn't weigh on Pyrrha.
And Erik doesn't feel the need to disappear into the background.
To Be Continued...