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“You want… Me to teach you how to waltz?”
Aesop had felt disbelief as he stared the painter down, the words still fresh on his tongue. When Edgar had approached him just moments ago, this was the last thing he would have thought to come out of his mouth. Him? Teaching Edgar how to waltz? With all the words and unnecessary teasing that they put each other through, Aesop would have thought Edgar would ask someone else to teach him…
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Carl.” It was embarrassing enough for Edgar to finally swoop in and make what he thought was a move. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, giving an almost glare to the embalmer. He still hadn’t received a clear answer yet, and only if it had been just a minute his patience was wearing thin “I knew this was stupid the moment I thought of asking. Just forget about it.”
Before Edgar could move away, Aesop spoke up, “Wait, Valden. I can teach you if you so wish. I-I just… simply wasn’t expecting you to ask me out of everyone in the manor, that is all.”
He still did not quite get it, but the embalmer decided he would humor the other. Besides, he thinks it would be quite humorous to tease Edgar on his lack of dancing skills. That and… He found himself genuinely looking forward to waltzing with him. Edgar looked back at him and felt a sense of victory flutter in his chest, along with something else. He stood up straight and nodded, “Good. Meet me in my room during late evening, after dinner. Don’t make me wait.”
The painter then walked away and vanished into the hallway, presumably to paint or fix up his room for their little arrangement. Aesop watched him leave before biting the inside of his cheek. This will be an experience…
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The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Dinner was rather quiet, most deciding to eat away from the group, including Aesop and Edgar. Once that was all done Aesop had gone back to his room for a moment to tidy himself up. He fixed his hair, which had now become a bit frizzy from today. He also found himself changing into something a bit more comfortable than his uniform he usually wears during matches. A muted cream sweater and black pants sufficed, along with his cross necklace he usually has under his uniform; now comfortable resting to be visible to those around him. His mask stayed as he looked himself in the small mirror hung up, making sure he looked presentable.
Ah, the things he worries about now because of that painter. Ridiculous.
Yet here he is, making sure he looks his best. His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped away from his reflection, slipping on his shoes once again before moving to the door. He opened it gently, yet still got a screech in return from the hinges. They were much too loud and much too annoying for Aesop’s liking. Oh well, there was little to be done about it now.
He stepped out into the quiet hallway to make the small journey to Edgar’s assigned bedroom. He fumbled with the hem of his sweater all the way there; out of nervousness or habit he wasn’t quite sure. When he reached the worn door of the painter’s bedroom, he gently knocked to alert Edgar of his presence. He waited for the door to open to reveal his host. Instead of his normally paint splattered clothes, he wore his white dress shirt and a pair of jeans with his usual boots. His hair was neatly tied back with a blue ribbon, one that matched his eye color, and Aesop was sure he could smell cologne through the material of his mask.
“Don’t just stand there, Carl, come in.” Edgar stepped to the side, ushering his guest into his bedroom. Aesop fidgeted for a second before walking in. He noted the easel and painting supplies neatly pushed to the wall, a spacious area cleared out for their little waltz lesson. A record player was stationed on top of his drawers, a vinyl already inserted and ready to be played. One could only assume it was music to fill the quiet once they really got into it.
Edgar shut the door behind the embalmer, turning around on his heel as his eyes followed his movements. Aesop had never been in his room before, or anyone for that matter. It is exceedingly rare that Edgar lets someone into his living space, as it is for quite a few residents at the manor. He stepped more into the room and crossed his arms, deciding to get the lesson moving. “How do we start?”
Aesop relaxed a bit as he moved to stand in front of Edgar. He gently guided the painter’s hands to the right position. “Since I’m leading, you want to your put your left hand on my upper arm and hold my hand with your other.”
Edgar had no issue with this, even if the small touch did send warmth to his cheeks. No complaints were made as he was shown the right stance and posture to begin waltzing. Aesop’s right hand found its way the Edgar’s back as he took their other hands and raised them up. Once everything was well and good with their starting position, Aesop continued, “Alright… Let’s start out simple. We’re going to move in a box shape…”
He glanced to the floor, instructing Edgar for the first movement. “Right foot back. Then with your left foot, step out to the side and bring your right in next to it.”
He hoped that made sense. Thankfully, Edgar got what he was going for. Aesop followed his movements with ease, muttering out a small bit of praise to the painter that he did it right. Once that first step was done, he instructed Edgar to switch which foot he used for the first step. He felt a swell of pride in both himself and Edgar that it was going well.
“Good.” Aesop started, gazing back up to face Edgar. Even with his expression being quite deadpanned, his words felt genuine, “I’m glad my instructions made sense… Let’s pick up speed a bit. I will instruct which movements you need to do for the first few cycles.”
Edgar truly had no words for once. He only nodded with a hum, his signal that he was fine with that. Aesop began to move and instruct Edgar to do the same. The first few times were fine, they both made no mistakes in footing. Once Aesop quieted down to see if Edgar could do it without his instructions was when the painter’s mind began to wander.
Just how soft were the embalmer’s hands under the usual gloves he wore? What exactly was under that mask of his? Edgar could not recall Aesop ever taking the two items off before. Why is that? He doubts it is because Aesop is ugly or deformed. His hand feels fine in his own, and from what part he could see from his face he was rather handsome.
He cut his thoughts off again as if they were just a loose string on a shirt.
There’s those foolish thoughts again. Idiotic. Ridiculous. The two are in the middle of nearly fighting for their lives each match they are pulled into and he’s thinking about sappy things… for the man he needlessly picks on, nonetheless, as does the man pick on him in return. When did this happen to him?
In the midst of his minor self-loathing, he had moved the wrong foot and ended up stepping on Aesop’s. The man in question let out a soft inhale as he looked Edgar in the eyes, quirking an eyebrow up in a silent judgement. Edgar was quick to remove his foot and covered up his embarrassment with a short cough. “What? Leave me alone- don’t- don’t look at me like that, Carl.”
To that Aesop rolled his eyes, albeit light heartedly, even if it was hard to tell. “It was expected to happen.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Edgar’s eyebrows furrowed, glaring at the man still holding him. They had stopped moving the moment he had messed up his footing, yet neither had decided to step away from the other.
“It means that I expected you to mess up your footing, Valden. Not only are you new to this, but I can only assume you didn’t know how to dance prior.” He dropped his hold on the painter, much to said man’s disappointment, and crossed his arms. He tilted his head to the side before critiquing, his eyes trailing down to the floor. “Honestly, you’re way too stiff with your movements… You must not be that stiff when dancing. It makes you look like you are uncomfortable… You- You aren’t uncomfortable, are you?”
“Of course I’m not uncomfortable, idiot. I’m the one that asked you to teach me.” He sneered back. He did not answer to the critiques, yet admittedly kept them in mind. He lowered his voice soon after. “If I were uncomfortable, I would have kicked you out already and called it a night; yet here we are.”
A soft “ah” was the only thing that managed to escape Aesop’s mouth after that. Right. That made sense. It was Edgar’s turn to roll his eyes, opening his arms up in what looked to be the pose he needed to start waltzing, “Let’s get back to it before it gets too late.”
Aesop followed Edgar’s demand, moving to get right back into the position they were once in. He let out a soft hum, thinking that even if Edgar stepped on his foot, he was ready for this, “Let us work on moving across the ‘ballroom’. Follow my lead.”
It did not take too long before the two were gliding across the floor of Edgar’s bedroom. Aesop was careful not to run into any of their surroundings, leading with fervent. It had been a while since he was able to dance with someone. He believes the last time he was able to truly have a fun time dancing was with his mother. She was the one who wanted him to do great things, the one who pushed him to follow the things he loved. Even when he was small, she had loved to teach him how to ballroom dance, always joking that someday he would find a nice partner to indulge in these abilities with. Even after her passing, Aesop was sure to always try to remember how to ballroom dance, even if it was just with an imaginary partner.
A gentle smile appeared behind his mask, unbeknownst to Edgar. He always looked back at the memories he had with his mother with fondness, even if he didn’t remember much. He worked his way out of his thoughts, muttering softly, “You’re doing well… You haven’t stepped on my foot again, thankfully.”
It was a small jab, a lighthearted one. No real malice laced the embalmer’s words. Edgar let out a soft huff, “Oh shut up about that… Let me put on music, it’s too quiet.”
Aesop could not help but agree. It was a bit odd to waltz without waltz music playing. Only the sound of their steps and soft breathing filled the room, along with their own heartbeats in their ears. He let the painter go and watched as he went to the record player. He cranked it and gently let the needle fall to the record. Soon, the soft sounds of string instruments and percussion filled the room. It wasn’t a song that Aesop was familiar with, but one with an easy tempo to keep up with.
When Edgar turned back around, Aesop had bowed down slightly and held out a hand, a signal that he was asking for a dance. Grey eyes peered into blue ones, soft and full of an emotion Edgar could not name. The only thing he was sure of was that it was a positive emotion. He gently took Aesop’s hand as he was carefully pulled into position, Aesop standing up straight. After a few moments of Aesop listening to the tempo, the two were off once again.
Aesop’s movements were graceful, always making sure Edgar could keep up with him. Although the painter was still a tad stiff with his movements, the more and more they went on the more relaxed he seemed. A soft hum sounded from his throat, and if you squinted you could swear he was smiling. Aesop gave a tender squeeze to Edgar’s hand, alerting him that he wanted to speak. “We’re going to try a turn…”
With that, Edgar nodded as Aesop guided him into a turn. It was not the most graceful thing in the world, but it was certainly a start. They moved back to gliding across the room before trying again, this time it was a bit better than before. Aesop let his eyes fall shut momentarily, enjoying the pure bliss that came with dancing like this again. It made it even better that it was with Edgar. With all the teasing and jabs they aim at each other; Aesop does not think he ever truly meant most of what he said. If anything, he could only admire him from his work and how his paintings had saved him and a few others during matches.
Not only that, but he also found it charming how much effort Edgar puts into his looks. He cannot name a single time he had found the man disheveled except after matches. He always seems to stand tall with proper posture, and never seemed to slouch. Not to mention how neatly his hair is tied back daily and how he can swear the man wears a bit of makeup at times. Subtle, but not subtle enough for the embalmer not to take notice.
He led Edgar into another turn, being careful and gentle as he did so. Edgar mused at him with a content expression. He was enjoying seeing this side of Aesop; a side not as reserved as he usually is. Just gazing into his eyes, he could tell the embalmer was having a nice time. Good. He hadn’t messed anything up. That was something the painter had been worrying about in the back of his mind, seeing how he could be quite cold and egotistical.
As the music picked up in tune, Aesop moved a tad bit quicker than they were originally moving - semi-off beat and cautious. Aesop began to hum the tune lowly, almost inaudible at first. A wave of fondness washed over Edgar at Aesop’s small action. It was a smooth and comforting sound, almost bringing a smile to Edgar’s lips. Though, he was getting bored of the same actions repeatedly, so he spoke up, “Can you teach me another move? I’m sure there must be more to waltzes than the three things you’ve taught me, Carl.”
Aesop’s humming stopped rather quickly, looking at Edgar with an unreadable expression. He thought for a second before he knew what move to teach, “A dip would be simple…”
“A dip?” Edgar had repeated, a bit softer than he intended. He could feel fluttering in his chest just at the thought… He truly was hopeless. He let out a short cough to the side to dissipate those thoughts, speaking in his normal tone of voice, “Right, a dip. Well then, carry on.”
Aesop’s eyebrows raised, albeit only a little, but shrugged off Edgar’s oddness. He began to explain the right way to dip someone, “Your outer leg must be out, while your leg closest to me helps keep you up, it needs to be bent.”
Edgar only nodded, and Aesop took that as an okay to dip him. He made sure to hold onto the painter, not wanting to let him fall out of his grasp. Their hands that still were comfortably in each other were off to the side. Aesop let his gaze linger at Edgar’s facial features, only to catch himself. He let his eyes fall to judge the latter’s footing. He spoke in a hushed tone, happy Edgar got it right, “Good.”
Pride swelled in Edgar’s chest, even if it was something as simple as being dipped. Perhaps it was the fact he was being dipped by Aesop. Speaking of, they felt closer than they had been now. He was sure that if Aesop wasn’t wearing his mask, he would feel his breath on his skin. He half-heartedly jabbed back to the simple praise to stop himself from doing anything idiotic, “Of course it’s good, it’s only a dip. I’m sure even a child could do that.”
Aesop only let out a hum, rolling his eyes. When he was pulled back up straight, they began to dance to the midst of the song. Edgar let his thoughts consume him once more. He really wished the embalmer was comfortable not wearing the mask. He longed to know what the rest of his facial features look like. Does he have a nice smile? Maybe a handsome jawline? He very much wanted to paint an accurate portrait of him; a difficult feat when you have not a clue what some of your muse’s main features truly look like.
Aesop glanced to Edgar, seemingly amused at how lost in thought he looked to be. He didn’t know if something else was on his mind or if he was truly concentrating on not tripping up his steps. Either way, it was a tad bit endearing. A soft exhale escaped his nose in amusement, deciding to try and get him to talk, “What are you thinking about? You seem lost in thought, Valden.”
Edgar snapped to attention, eyes going up to look at Aesop’s. He parted his lips to speak but paused. He was most embarrassed he was caught like that, so he rebutted, “None of your business, Carl. It’s nothing.”
“… You just went against yourself. You told me it was not my business, implying you were thinking of something, then said it was nothing… Which one is it?” Aesop mused, the smallest sly smile coming to his lips, invisible to anyone but himself. As he pressed on, he turned them around, making sure Edgar had the hint that he was going to do that. Thankfully, he caught on rather quickly from the small tug of his hand.
“Damn you…” Edgar grumbled under his breath, furrowing his brows in annoyance. How is he supposed to answer to that? Telling the truth would be embarrassing, and he was sure Aesop would see through the lie of focusing too much on his footing. He decided to just stay silent after his grumbling.
It only earned him a soft, inaudible laugh from Aesop. He breathed out of his nose as his shoulders trembled slightly. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he shook his head softly, “Keep to yourself, then.”
Although he was very much curious as to what was on Edgar’s mind, he dropped it with ease. Edgar’s eyes widened ever so slightly at what he assumed was a laugh. Has he ever even seen Aesop this amused before? He doesn’t think so… Has anyone seen him this amused before? Maybe Eli or Lucky Guy has, seeing how they always try to get the man to jump out of his comfort zone… They were the two extroverts that adopted the introvert, it seemed.
A string of jealousy, an idiotic jealousy that does not make sense, weaved itself through his veins. He bit his tongue and slightly made his grip on Aesop’s hand a bit tighter. He should not be jealous over that of all things. Seriously? He wants to bash in his skull just from even thinking that Aesop being happy with those two losers was something to be jealous over. Maybe it was the fact he had not entertained Aesop to the point of laughing before, that could be why he was feeling such a way.
He supposes he should really work on humoring Aesop a bit more, but now was not the time for that.
Edgar was pulled into a turn before Aesop began to dip him once more. He was lucky he broke out of his thoughts before embarrassing himself of doing it wrong. Aesop looked content, his eyes falling shut for just a moment as he lifted Edgar back up. Edgar barely noticed the song coming to a close and that the dip was the final move. Aesop backed away and spoke praise, “You did well for your first-time waltzing, Valden.”
The record looped fuzzy noise in the background. Edgar moved to bring the needle up so it would shut up, turning his back as he replied to Aesop, “Well of course, it wasn’t like it was difficult. Don’t tell me you thought I was incompetent enough to not get something as simple as waltzing correct.”
“Well, you were stiff during the beginning. Even at the end… So, I do not think you were the best, but it was a good start.” It was his own small jab towards the painter, something to counter his passive-aggressiveness. He folded his arms in front of himself and tilted his head slightly to the side. He watched Edgar’s moves and darted his gaze to the side when he turned back around.
Edgar only hummed, putting his hands on his hips to prop his arms up a bit. He had thought he saw Aesop looking at him, even if for just a moment, but decided not to interrogate the man who agreed to teach him how to dance. For once. Instead, he spoke, “I would like to continue our lessons tomorrow.”
The embalmer’s eyebrows raised a bit, but agreed, “Yes, that is fine. Same time as today?”
“Mhm. It’s less likely someone would interrupt during this hour.” Especially Mike… Oh, how he wishes he could strangle that man sometimes.
“I couldn’t agree more. I will see you then.” Before making his way to the door, Aesop bowed like a gentleman would at the end of a dance. He raised himself up and turned to the door, moving towards it. He opened it but paused, not looking back around, “… Have a good night, Valden.”
“… Yes, you too, Carl.” When was the last time he ever wished someone in this damned manor a good night? He can’t remember. Maybe there was not even a time he had. He watched Aesop leave and soon sat on his bed, his mind reeling over the events of their little lesson. He criticized every little mistake he himself had made, scowling, only to find himself fondly remember Aesop’s expressions – or at least the expressions he could assume from just his eyes and eyebrows.
He was in too deep.