Taming the Serpent

Chapter 17

Sebastian and Claire didn't return to their table during the next hour, but Ominis hardly noticed. He was perfectly content to sit and talk with Silver, the pair of them leaning close, sharing soft banter and light, easy conversation about things of little importance. So content was he with her presence that he hardly blinked when Andrew Larson approached, his steps a nervous shuffle, his voice a slight stammer.

"Uh... R-Rivers, do you want to d-dance?"

"No," she said, without turning away from Ominis. He smirked as he heard Larson shuffle away.

"I imagine we're going to get this most of the night," Silver said, with a rueful laugh. "Perhaps I should have transfigured myself to look like a troll."

"It would have made no difference to me," Ominis said, and she giggled.

"That's one of the things I like best about you, you know," she said, her thigh brushing his, the contact sending sparks rushing up his side. "You never judge on looks alone."

"Gosh, I can't think why," Ominis remarked, and she laughed, the sound a clear peal that soared up to the ceiling and back, taking his heart with it.

As she predicted, several other students approached her over the course of the hour, asking to dance with her, offering her drinks, and acting as if Ominis was simply part of the furniture. Silver rebuffed every advance with practiced ease, her attention never wavering from him for more than the second it took to send away the others with a flea in their ear.

It wasn't just the men that tried their luck. Ominis' brows shot up when Samantha Dale scurried over, asking Silver to dance in a kind of awed whisper. Silver was kinder in her rejection, but it was a rejection nonetheless, and Ominis got the distinct impression that Samantha rushed off in tears once it was done.

The moments in which they were left alone felt like stolen gems, and they could have been in the middle of the ocean or amongst the stars themselves for all the attention Ominis paid to his surroundings. It was enough just to sit and talk with her, weaving subtle circles around the way he truly felt, much like those high-society dances he was so unhappily accustomed to, that he had been forced to learn, in which the dancers, if they were skilled, stood mere inches apart, but never quite touched. There was a want within him, a desire, a need for her to know just how much she made his heart sing with her every word, and how much that terrified him and captivated him in equal measure. How he never wanted that feeling to end. How he never wanted to be parted from her again.

"I suppose we ought to, really," she said, during a lull, her voice directed towards the dancefloor. "You and I, I mean. Only if you want to, of course."

"I'm not one for making a spectacle of myself," Ominis said, with a wry grin. "However, I would forever consider myself a fool of significant proportions if I missed such an opportunity."

He rose, offering his hand, his smile widening as her slender palm slid into his, the slight weight of it shifting as she got to her feet, and he led her away from the table, heading to the middle of the Hall.

"Do you have much experience of this?" he asked, not unkindly, his heart skipping as he placed a tentative hand on her waist.

"Oodles," she replied. "My parents insisted."

"So did mine," he replied, with a soft laugh. "Shall we?"

It was a surprise to Ominis how quickly the old lessons came back to him. Where to place his feet and when, the angle he was to sway from in order to lead Silver around him, the exact twist of his hip to keep in time with the music. To his delight, Silver proved to be a skilled dancer, moving as if she was an extension of him, not merely a partner. She leaned into him at all the right moments, her hand so light on his shoulder that he had to pay extra attention to it to remind himself it was there.