Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

87. Two Tyrones

So far, the gala is an absolute blast. The dinner was amazing, which is to be expected if Tony Stark is the host. The dinner consisted of six small courses and they were all absolutely delicious. Whenever Daphne felt like she was done with a course, all she had to do was glance at Peter and he'd open his mouth so she could feed him the rest of her food. He truly is a living trash can.

Peter's mouth fell open when he first saw her in the dress of the night. It's a long, navy blue gown. The bodice was covered in the most beautiful lace and the skirt was flowy, giving her space to dance freely. Her hair was being held out of her face by the dove pin Peter had given her for her birthday. Peter was still in the same suit from earlier that afternoon. He didn't really have another suit. Peter laughed when he complimented Daphne on how she looked and she replied with a simple:
"Oh, I got this one on sale for like, thirty dollars." He then kissed her and told her it wouldn't matter what she wore; she would always be beautiful to him.

The fact that Daphne still wore heels to the gala, even though she wore her pointes for a full afternoon, baffled Peter.
"Don't your feet hurt?"
"Yes," she had replied. "But that's a problem for future me." She shrugged and chuckled. "Besides, I'm used to painful feet by now."

And now, after the dinner, Daphne is letting herself go on the dance floor. Nothing too crazy, though, because she's still wearing a gala dress, which is restrictive by nature. Most of her classmates are on the dance floor as well, and she's interacting with them while the upbeat Christmas tunes drum in their ears. Peter watches the group from a distance, too self-conscious to join in.

"Hey, kid." Tony leans against the table, next to Peter, who absentmindedly plays with his empty glass. Peter glances at his mentor for a second before looking back at the dance floor.
"Hey."
"You alright?"
"A little tired."
"Not enjoying the party?" Tony cocks an eyebrow and Peter swiftly stands up straight, his back facing the dance floor.
"I am!" he says immediately. "I'm just..." He shoots a glance at the Art Class having fun.

Tony grins knowingly.
"You won't embarrass yourself, if that's what's holding you back."
"I'm not a dancer, Mr. Stark." Tony scoffs loudly.
"Then what did you do this afternoon?" He takes a sip from his scotch and cocks his head.
"Ballet. That's not the same as what they're doing over there."
"Okay, maybe you're right about that, but do you think she'd care?" Tony uses his whisky glass to gesture at Daphne, who's having a conversation with Sarah. Peter bites his lip and sighs.
"I mean, no, but-"
"No buts. Go have fun." Tony's eyes shoot to the DJ and he smirks playfully. "I got you covered, kid."

Peter places his empty glass on the table and shuffles to the dance floor. He snakes through the crowd until he gets to the Art Class. To Daphne. When she spots him approaching, she lights up.
"Pete!" She prances towards him and he smiles. "Finally decided to join the party?" She wiggles her eyebrows, making Peter laugh.
"You know I'm not a dancer." Daphne grabs Peter's hands and steps side to side, guiding Peter to join her.
"Liar," she says with a smirk.

Daphne thinks back to the Halloween party. Before everything went to shit. Peter stayed on the side-lines for most of the evening, and she didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, so she let him. Tonight, however, he's going to dance with her. She's going to make sure of that. This is her night. Her last night before she has to start accepting that she'll never be normal. She'll never have a normal life. Sure, she'll stay in Art Class, but pursuing a professional career as a ballerina is pretty much out of the picture. It's too dangerous. Too risky. She has to stay hidden, for her own sake. Today was the last day she could allow herself to enjoy all of this. Before she has to accept what she is and what that entails. She-
"Are you okay?"