Dreams of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 2)

The sorrow on his face was so absolute that she found herself stunned by it. For a moment, she worried that he might weep. But he merely placed another kiss to her fingers before releasing her hand and proceeding to down his entire glass of wine in one gulp before refilling it from the bottle upon the table.

The rest of the dinner was sat in silence.

She did not understand what had passed between them. She wondered if she ever would. More importantly, she wondered if she wanted to. She was beginning to doubt that the rocks she sought to overturn contained anything underneath them that were not piles of bones and death.

When the music began, she could not take it anymore. This was not who she wished to be, sitting morosely at the table with a man who still looked as though he were mourning the loss of his dearest friend.

She stood, startling him out of his reverie. She moved to stand beside him at the table and stretched a hand to him. “Care to dance?”

Etiquette is sorely overrated.

It seemed he believed the same. For his features split in a smile of disbelief and he placed his hand in hers. “Always.”