Moonlight spilled over the fountain, turning the garden into a silver sanctuary.
The air smelled faintly of jasmine.
Leah stood near the center, wearing a soft, knee-length dress—light blue, flowing just enough to sway with her movements. It wasn't her wedding gown, but it was elegant enough to make her feel girlish and nervous all at once.
Izana Grimshaw stepped from the shadows, red eyes catching the moonlight.
He studied her quietly.
"You look… different," he said, voice calm but a hint of amusement in it.
Leah spun once, letting the skirt flare.
"Different good or different bad?" she teased, tilting her head.
His lips curved slightly.
"Good," he said simply. "And slightly distracting."
Leah laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Distracting, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."
He extended a hand.
She took it, letting him pull her into the center of the garden.
"Remember," he said, low and serious, "this is practice. Don't overthink it."
"I never overthink anything," Leah replied with a wink.
Izana raised an eyebrow.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really," she said, spinning under his arm.
He caught her hand and pulled her close again.
Her hands went to his shoulders.
"You're enjoying this too much," she accused.
He smirked, letting his hand rest lightly at her waist.
"Perhaps," he said, red eyes glinting. "I enjoy seeing you flustered."
Leah gasped playfully.
"That's unfair!"
He leaned closer, voice soft.
"Life isn't fair, my dear. But dancing with me is."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile.
They moved across the garden, twirling around the fountain, stepping over the soft shadows of the flowers.
"I think you're cheating," she said suddenly, catching her breath.
"Cheating?" he asked.
"Yes. You're holding me too close. It's distracting."
Izana's lips twitched into a faint grin.
"Distracting again?" he asked.
"Yes!" she said, giggling, swatting his shoulder lightly.
"I see," he said, letting her spin away from him.
Leah tried to escape, but he caught her hand again and pulled her back into a playful twirl.
"You're impossible," she said, laughing.
"And yet," he whispered as he dipped her slightly, "you keep coming back."
Leah's cheeks burned, but she leaned into him.
"You're good at this," she admitted.
"I've had a lot of practice," he said calmly, brushing a stray hair from her face.
Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
"You make it look easy," she said softly.
He smirked.
"I make everything look easy."
"Except confessing your feelings," she teased.
He froze for a moment, red eyes darkening slightly.
"Not everything," he murmured.
Leah pressed her forehead to his chest.
"You're still impossible," she said, voice low.
"And you're still smiling," he countered.
She laughed again, stepping back slightly, letting her dress twirl around her.
"Your turn to follow me," she said mischievously, grabbing his hand.
He blinked, surprised.
"I… don't think I follow the rules that way," he said.
Leah spun once, teasing him.
"Then you'll just have to keep up," she said, chasing him around the fountain.
He laughed quietly, the sound rare and soft.
"You're ridiculous," he said, catching her gently by the waist and spinning her toward him.
"I know," she said, leaning into him.
Her laughter echoed in the garden.
They paused for a moment, chest to chest, foreheads together, catching their breath.
"Izana," she murmured.
"Yes?" he asked.
She tilted her head.
"I could get used to this," she said, voice almost shy.
"Doubtful," he replied, but his eyes softened.
"You mean dancing with me?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "And everything else."
She pressed a light kiss to his chest, smiling against him.
He let her linger for a heartbeat, then pulled back slightly.
"There is one thing I must say before tonight ends," he said.
Her brow furrowed.
"What is it?"
He sighed softly, gaze on the ground for a moment.
"We can't sleep in the same room tonight," he said quietly.
Leah blinked, caught off guard.
"Separate rooms?" she asked softly.
"Yes," he said. "It is tradition. Before the wedding, the bride and groom don't share a bed."
She studied him carefully, noticing the slight shadow of sadness behind his eyes.
"I understand," she said gently, pressing her hand to his chest.
"It's not easy," he admitted. "I want to hold you, sleep beside you… but tradition is tradition."
Leah smiled faintly, brushing her fingers along his arm.
"Then tonight… we just say goodnight," she whispered.
He nodded, red eyes softening.
"I appreciate your patience," he murmured.
They lingered in the garden, hand in hand, foreheads touching.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I know. I love you too," he replied quietly, voice low, almost tender.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then Leah tilted her head up and kissed him softly.
A gentle, lingering kiss.
Not fiery. Not urgent.
Just… sweet.
A promise.
Izana's hand lifted to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing lightly.
"I could get used to that," he said softly.
Leah smiled against his lips.
"Maybe we'll practice that tomorrow too," she teased.
"I might insist," he murmured.
They pulled apart slowly, foreheads resting together one last time.
The night air wrapped around them.
Silver moonlight reflected in the fountain, making it seem like the entire garden was watching their quiet intimacy.
Leah's fingers remained entwined with his as they stepped back.
Separate rooms awaited them. Separate beds.
But the warmth, the laughter, the teasing, and the closeness lingered in their hearts.
"I'll see you in the morning?" Leah asked softly.
Izana nodded.
"First thing," he said.
She leaned in, resting her forehead lightly against his chest one final time.
"Goodnight, Izana," she whispered.
"Goodnight, Leah," he replied, voice low, steady.
They finally released hands, but neither left immediately.
Leah lingered, glancing back with a playful smirk.
"You're going to dream about me," she said.
"I make no promises," he said calmly, though his eyes glimmered.
Her smile softened.
"Fair enough," she said, walking slowly toward her room.
Izana watched her go, red eyes tracing her every movement.
When the door closed, he allowed himself a long breath.
A rare, unguarded moment.
The first dance had been playful, teasing, full of laughter and closeness.
The goodnight kiss had been soft, lingering, a bridge between the traditions he respected and the love he felt.
Tomorrow, they would wed.
Tonight, they had their moonlit garden.
Their shared warmth.
Their secret intimacy.
And Izana Grimshaw… for the first time in a long time, let himself feel anticipation without fear.
The world could wait.