dernière danse

part ten

Authors Note: I've split up the final milestone of 20,000 words into 2,000-word parts + an epilogue. I hope y'all enjoy it.

The palace was innumerably different. Unlike before, they'd repaved the entrance to be circuitous, opening up to a marbled foyer. Leo was holding Cleo for support, the pair oohing at the marvel of upgrades.

Ticking away, the clock in the center pronounced the time prominently. They still had ten minutes left.

"You should be proud of yourself, Cleo. You've made it so far and you're still hoping," Leo muttered, waving hello to the band.

"That's a bit lofty for me. I still owe you a huge thank you for setting all of this up. I can't believe you rented this out for the two of us," Cleo responded, walking over to the musicians. She questioned them about their repertoire, handing them sheet music for a few pieces of classical music.

"I've missed seeing you whole for the past thirty years. If you mind madame, may I have this dance?" Leo spoke, extending a cordial arm.

Cleo chuckled, taking his hand in hers. "We have some time to kill, so I don't see why not."

"You don't have to keep staring at that clock. It's only 11:30. She's barely late," Leo whispered, shaking Cleo away from her wistful glance at the clock.

"I'm just- just nervous. I haven't seen her in so long, and I think that it's my fault for not chasing after her. If I hadn't given in to my parents, we would probably still be together. It just kills me how I can't be with her anymore."

"Cleo, your parents threatened to kill you. You didn't have much of a choice to make if you wanted to be around for her ever. Stop being woeful about what could've happened. Just close your eyes and enjoy this dance, dear."

"What would I do without you, Leo?"

"Probably reek of body odor and starve to death."

Though Cleo was doubtful about it, she took Leo's advice to heart, simply enjoying their dance. She'd barely noticed when the clock moved towards 12, swaying away to the band's lustrous music.

Her eyes were beginning to peek, though, noticing that it was pushing to one.

"She isn't coming, is she?"

"I just wanted you to stop worrying about it for a while. But it doesn't seem like it, my love."

"I expected this. Can we leave now?"

"Absolutely, Cleo. Whatever you need."

"I want someone who isn't bothered to show up. But if she found someone who loved her that much, I'm happy. Let's leave, Leo. And if there are letters left in the mail, ask them to shred it."

Before they could leave the floor, they saw something lurid emerge from the shadows. Cleo gasped, a relief washing over her. It was Bette. It was truly Bette. She was wearing the same red dress as she did thirty years ago. Accompanied by letters dangling from her hands, she walked over, seemingly intoxicated by champagne and Cleo.

"Bette-" Cleo spoke, tears flooding her eyes.

"Cleo. We meet again," Bette chuckled, tenderly wiping the tears on Cleo's cheek. She turned to Leo, nodding her head once to acknowledge his presence. Leo tipped his hat with a soft grin on his face, whispering an "enjoy" before sauntering off elsewhere.

"I see that you still have a tendency of missing the mark on punctuality." Cleo let out a humorous sigh.

"The flight took longer than expected. Actually, I took more time to get ready than was necessary. I was nervous to see you and I was expecting that you would've left by now," Bette whispered, letting out a giggle.