Once upon a time there was a doctor who became a sorcerer.

The doctor used to hold a trusting belief in his methods of science, often times undermining those who went against them. He also claimed to be the most knowledgeable of all yet chose to ignore what lied on the limits of reality and the mysteries of the cosmos.

Until his hands went numb and his life nulled gray.

The despair that overtook the man was unlike any other, dark, enveloping him in a cocoon of depression and anger. His dreams, the world he had built around himself, all gone at the hands of fate. It laughed at him, yet consoled him with wise, whispered words.

There's more ahead of you.

At that time he understood little of what that meant. In his perspective, his life was over, he had no reason to keep fighting for something he couldn't change. His medicine had proved to be a traitor to its biggest believer. The man never stopped believing in the science of healing, yet his trust with it shattered, a spark that gave its last blink before withering into nothing.

Until he discovered sorcery, albeit by chance. Humans tend to drive themselves mindlessly into a new stage of their lives, especially upon being enslaved by invisible demons. This, he questioned to himself, as his mission to heal was suddenly interfered by a threat he thought to be a fable. There were people who created intricate shapes, bright, powerful, just with their own strength of mind.

Fate had lead him to become the Sorcerer Supreme, even though it meant for his saviour to leave the world of the living.

It was crazy, he thought himself crazy, probably a man gone mad on his own wounds and the loss of his world to create a new one where ultradimensional beings existed and objects were suddenly sentient.

But probably the wisest were the craziest, for the ignorants lived a happier life when they knew nothing about their vulnerability.

And Stephen Strange, oh, the man probably knew too much already.

And this huge conundrum had origin from the fact he was attending a ball on a dimension where the sky was purple and the most common food that could be found there was, apparently, spicy moons.

The music wasn't bad though, although he had his doubts on several genres such as space sonata and flipping stars.

But he couldn't really complain when the inhabitants of said planet considered him a savior for preventing mass death and ultimately liberating them from the entity that had incited only fear for centuries.

He supposed that's what he did now, travel through impactful dimensions and helping those with a bit of sorcery and a grand cloak of levitation.

Alas, the short-lived ceremony had lead up to a ball, the celebration at one point sending him into a wondrous daze at the spectacle of colours and flowing gowns behind dancing women and their partners. The men wore intricate suits, the cloth made from the softest material he has ever seen, sewn delicately with an endless number of details and patterns that swirled and framed them like a piece of art.

The gown's worn by women, swirls of colour, changing with every turn and swirl of silk. It created the perfect picture of colorful flowers throughout the room, a piece of art framed with gold, motions frozen in time, a beauty that seemed to never end. He wondered how they did it, manage to change the design of dresses, colours and textures with movement. Or maybe it was just a mere illusion created from the saturation of colours.

A song dedicated to the sight of the undiscovered, the normalcy for some, but the revolution to the foreign.

It was hypnotizing, and he could never stop looking at it, even though he had been standing-

"Mr. Strange. Or should I say... Doctor? Am I correct?"

It took great effort, pulling himself from the grasp of the siren song to attend to his calling. He ran a hand down a raven lapel, suddenly feeling underdressed in his suit. But the sweet laugh that followed his action made him see.

The woman, delicate beauty, a stance that represented grace and a connection with her surroundings in lyrical harmony. It was enticing, the way her skin, almost gold, shone just as equally as the chandliers hanging over their heads. She had seen her before, an unconscious glimpse through the crowd when the fight ended and the world was liberated.

Strange was not a man to involve himself with men and women solely for fun anymore, but he still remembered how to behave in front of a dame. Politeness, something engraved in his mind since he was young. He used to overlook the usefulness of said manners, but when his hand, gently grasping hers and bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss, reminded him of the understanding he now possessed.

Because the soft reddening of her cheeks was so very telling of how women received little apraise for their appearance. To touch a woman as delicately as a rose's petal, not because she was frail and breakable, but to admire the strength with which she hides behind the act the outer layer exposed.

Men and women are so different in their physicality, so it's not forbidden to demonstrate one's awe in what each other doesn't possess but can look from close. Unique creations, appreciation that should remain untransformed into jealousy.

"Doctor Stephen Strange." He contributed kindly, letting go of her hand slowly.

She looked down at her drink for a brief moment, the tip of a finger thoughtfully tracing around the rim of the transparent glass.

"In this planet we call them bones. The doctors." She contemplated, stealing a glance at him, then, watching the dancing crowd. "When we leave this dimension, what remains of us is just the physical core of our beings, our bones... Perhaps quite different from your science, Doctor Strange?" She inquired faintly.

He considered her words mutely, absent mindedly brushing his thumb over his own glass, blue liquid gently swaying with the tenuous movements.

"I believe it not to be so far fetched..." He wondered if words such as 'dame' or 'lady' were considered formal in a world like that, considering the already existing difference in their vocabulary.

"(Y/N)." She contributed immediately, as if perceiving the blank gap she left in their introduction. "Where are my manners, quite mistaken for approaching you that directly. I suppose I was curious, to meet the man everyone spoke of, one that walked in a different world than ours and possessed skills that shone brighter than the stars blinking at us from space." She acquired a furrowed brow, hurrying to add.

"Almighty mine, I might've worsened my statement with that addition. I've not been following you around if that is what you might want to know." Her composure slowly solidified into the serenity that surrounded her on their first exchange. He watched interestedly, the way her hair fell over her face in wondrous cascades, little specks of crystals creating an intricate pattern all around.

"Let me rephrase this again." She shifted her footing, offering him a lovely smile. "I heard about you quite a lot, and just recently caught sight of you right here, I thought I could just start some conversation in hopes of getting to know more of you."

He had emitted no word throughout her conundrum, but it seemed she could base off her responses when he didn't put a stop to her rambling.

She continued.

"That is... If you would like of course. Worry not if you wish to be left alone, it's quite understandable for you to want to be left to enjoy this evening by yourself." She finished, smile unwavering despite her hesitance.

And how could he say no? It wasn't as if he seeked the company of solitude. It almost seemed as if the events around him had shifted to satisfy his ignorance of the way they socialized in that world.

The piece ended, several couples leaving the dance floor and many others recieving a momentary break before the next one took place. The upbeat ballads had gradually serened until offering a slow dance. The moves deviated from what he was used to, but it wouldn't prove a challenge to follow along.

"How could I deny such invitation?" Their drinks were left aside, and soon enough, they had made their way to the dance floor. He was surprised by how easy they found it to arrange themselves, with one of his hands gently located on her waist and the other linking their hands together.

The arrangement of lights provided with a spectacle of colours, making her eyes sparkle and her hair flow swiftly. The intricancies of her dress were brought to life with every turn and step they took around the dance floor. Stephen couldn't look away, lost in the motion, who he had in front of him. It was to forget everything to focus in what was now. Moments like this happened rarely.

It seemed time could be stopped without the need of the time stone.

"I didn't know you could dance so well." (Y/N) complimented breathlessly.

Stephen's chest heaved with the same effort they were doing to keep up with the music, mostly to keep out of someone else's way and not lose footing from the repeating turns around the ballroom.

Cheeks flushed from the heat of exertion, and an exhilaration that coursed through his body at the pure excitement of dancing, he searched for his answer. "I learn quick." He provided cheekily, the rest of the couples unknowing of the laughter that broke in between the pair.

Because why wouldn't it be funny? Sometimes laughter was born out of nothing and yet it made up a whole night for the simple natured.

-
"I was hoping we could meet again another time Doctor Strange."
"You have my word (Y/N)"
-

I must say it's not my best work, but I've been placing focus on writing each day. Shame on my procrastination.

Nonetheless...

I hope you enjoyed this work. There's more to come.

-PurpleTrekkie

Picture edit by me.