Everett shivered in his jacket and looked at his companion.
“Tell me, what are we doing here?”
“As I told you, it’s a date.”
“A date. On a windy, dark roof… you know, this is strange, even for you.”
Stephen grimaced at the pun, but then smiled again.
“Wait and see.”
He levitated over the ledge of the building, and Everett looked at him, a little worried: he perfectly knew that Stephen was a sorcerer and could float in the air, but to see him walking on void, always caused him a strange restlessness.
“Well, what should we do now?”
Stephen went to him and held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
Everett looked down and blanched.
“What? You’re insane! I’m not like you, I can’t.”
“Everett,” Strange said, and Ross looked up at him: the way Stephen said his name was one of the wonders of the world. He could give millions of nuances to the few syllables of it, from sweetness to love, from amusement to adoration.
“Everett, do you trust me?”
“You know that I do.”
“Then give me your hand.”
“But… but how…?”
“Just look at me.”
“All… allright.”
Strange took Everett’s left hand in his, then then right, and finally pulled him gently, as if he wanted to invite him to dance, and Everett took a step into the void.
He never took his eyes off Strange’s face.
He adored his face.
(Actually, there wasn’t a single feature that Everett didn’t adore about him)
Strange smiled at him.
“Now you can look down, if you want.”
“Wha-?”
Ross was so focused on Strange’s face that he hadn’t even noticed that they were flying in the night sky above the city for several minutes.
“Oh my god,” he whispered softly.
It was an incomparable sight: the city shone beneath them like a jewel, and the feeling of floating free in the air had no equal.
“Thanks for this, Stephen, it’s beautiful.”
Strange looked at Everett’s face, at his blond hair waving in the light breeze, and at his boyish smile that made him look younger.
“It is,” he murmured slowly, “it is.”
