𝟎𝟏𝟏. 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌

The much-anticipated senior prom of Forks High School had finally arrived, and the Cullen house was a flurry of excitement and controlled chaos. The usually serene home had been transformed into a hub of activity, with laughter and music drifting from every corner. The Cullens had gone all out to make the day special, and Esme, along with Mabel, and Alice who was solemn that she couldn't join the prom as she was a junior, had taken it upon themselves to create an atmosphere of glamour and indulgence for the girls. The third floor had been set up like a professional salon, complete with full-length mirrors, softly glowing lights, and an assortment of hair and makeup supplies neatly arranged on the counters.

The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors mixed with the faint hum of a blow dryer and soft jazz music playing in the background in preparation for their night. Esme moved gracefully between stations, offering tips and gentle encouragement, while Mabel worked her magic on Delilah, carefully curling and pinning her hair into place. Delilah sat on a plush stool, her dress concealed beneath a silk robe to protect it from any potential accidents or peeking.

"You're going to look absolutely stunning," Mabel said warmly, a soft smile gracing her lips as she twirled a strand of Delilah's hair around her finger before pinning it delicately.

Delilah gave her a grateful smile through the mirror. "You always say that, but it's all you. I'd look like a disaster if I tried to do this on my own."

"Nonsense," Mabel replied, her tone firm but affectionate. "You've got natural beauty, sweetheart. This is just the icing on the cake."

Across the room, Alice darted between Rosalie, Braelyn, and Bridget, her excitement palpable as she coordinated makeup looks and provided fashion advice. "Braelyn, try the berry lipstick—it'll pop against your dress. Bridget, we're going for subtle shimmer, not disco ball. Trust me."

Rosalie, already picture-perfect as usual, sat calmly applying mascara, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders. "Alice, you might want to pace yourself. It's prom, not a runway show."

Alice waved her off with a grin. "Every moment is an opportunity for glamour, Rose. Don't act like you don't love it."

The lighthearted banter made Delilah chuckle softly as she adjusted her position on the stool. Her stepmother's hands moved expertly, twisting her hair into an intricate chignon that felt both vintage and modern. As Mabel worked, she glanced at the phone Delilah had handed her earlier, which displayed a twenties-inspired look from Pinterest.

"You know," Mabel mused, securing the final pin in place, "I actually remember wearing something similar back in the day to a dance too. The Jazz Age was something else—glitz, glamour, and the best parties you could imagine. You would've loved it."

Delilah's curiosity piqued as she turned slightly to face Mabel. "You were alive during the twenties?"

Mabel chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "Not quite, but my grandmother was, and she told the best stories. If you ever get the chance to visit New York, or well of course Chicago, even New Orleans, you can still feel a little of that old magic in the air."

The mention of the Jazz Age made Delilah's thoughts drift to the vampires in the house. Of the Cullens and their extended family, only Rhyland was too young to have experienced the twenties firsthand. Carlisle, Jasper, and Evander, however, had lived through it—and much more. Her boyfriend, had shared countless stories with her, painting vivid pictures of the eras he'd lived through.

She smiled to herself, imagining Evander in the twenties, effortlessly charming in a sharp three-piece suit with his hair slicked back. He would have been the life of the party, dancing the Charleston with ease and stealing glances at anyone who caught his eye. She could practically hear the jazz music and see the opulent speakeasies he'd described so vividly.

Her thoughts wandered further, to the many other chapters of his life: fighting in the shadows during the French Revolution, navigating the chaos of World War II, and witnessing the assassinations of Presidents Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. He'd spoken with awe about moments of history she'd only read about in textbooks, and with laughter about sneaking into rock concerts in the eighties or standing among the roaring crowd at Live Aid, watching Queen bring Wembley Stadium to life.

Mabel chuckled softly as she caught Delilah staring off into the distance again, her makeup brush paused midair. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" she teased, giving her stepdaughter's shoulders a gentle squeeze.

Delilah blinked, her cheeks instantly flushing a rosy pink. "I wasn't—" she started, but Mabel's raised brow cut her off. The older woman's knowing grin deepened as she pointed at Delilah's reflection in the mirror.

"Don't even try to deny it," Mabel said, a warm laugh in her voice. "I know that look anywhere. It's the same one I get when I think about your dad."

Groaning playfully, Delilah rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. Maybe I was. Is it that obvious?"

"Like a neon sign," Mabel replied, her grin widening. "But don't worry. It's adorable. You're in love—that's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Shaking her head slightly, Delilah turned her attention back to her makeup, carefully painting her lips with a bold, vintage-inspired red. She couldn't help but grin slightly as she worked, knowing full well the lipstick wouldn't last the entire night. Between the kisses she knew Evander wouldn't be able to resist stealing and the inevitable fun and chaos of the prom, she'd need to touch up more than once. Sliding the lipstick into her clutch, she made a mental note to keep it close.

The room around her buzzed with energy as the girls finished getting ready. Alice flitted about like a whirlwind, adjusting Rosalie's hair one moment and handing Braelyn a pair of earrings the next. Bridget fussed over her nails, muttering about how they didn't quite match her dress. Despite the chaos, there was an undeniable sense of camaraderie and excitement in the air.

From downstairs, the sound of the boys' laughter echoed up the staircase. Delilah could pick out Emmett's booming laugh, Jasper's quieter chuckle, and even Calum and Ethan, who had joined them for the night. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of the boys trying—and likely failing—to stay calm amidst the whirlwind of preparations.

Alice suddenly appeared at her side, tugging at the sash of her robe. "Don't you dare try to sneak a peek at your dress," she warned, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Evander would have my head if you saw it before the big reveal."

Delilah laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it! Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the suspense."

"You'll love it," Alice said confidently. "Trust me, it's perfect."

Rosalie chimed in from across the room, her golden curls bouncing as she adjusted her necklace. "Evander has impeccable taste. If he picked it, it's going to be stunning."

Delilah slipped on her heels and stood, smoothing down her robe as she glanced around the room. "I'm going to check on him," she said with a grin. "Don't worry, I'll keep the robe on. No cheating, I promise."

The girls waved her off with laughter and teasing remarks as she made her way down the hall toward Evander's room. As she approached, the faint sound of running water and movement from the en-suite bathroom caught her attention. Curiosity piqued, she stepped inside the room, only to stop in her tracks when she caught sight of him.

The sight took her breath away. Evander stood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting his bow tie. His polished shoes gleamed under the soft light, and his tailored slacks fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean, muscular frame. His crisp white button-up shirt was tucked neatly into his pants, and his suspenders rested snugly over his broad shoulders. His hair was still slightly damp, tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome.

Delilah's heart skipped a beat as she stood in the doorway, unable to tear her eyes away.

Evander glanced up and did a double take when he noticed her standing there. His golden eyes lit up, and a slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. "Well, well," he drawled, stepping closer to her. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my love?"

Delilah blushed a small smile on her face, her voice teasing. "I was just checking on you. Looks like you clean up pretty well, Denali."

He chuckled, reaching for her hand and pulling her into the room. "Pretty well? I'll have you know, I was the best-dressed man of the Jazz Age," he teased, twirling her around playfully. His eyes sparkled as he took her in, even with the robe still concealing her dress. "Although I'm sure you'll steal the show tonight. You look ravishing already."

Rolling her eyes, Delilah gestured to the robe. "Not much to see yet. I've been under strict orders not to peek until photo time."

Evander grinned, his gaze softening. "It's worth it, trust me. But I don't need to see the dress on you to know you'll be the most beautiful woman there." He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "You always are."

A blush crept up her neck as she smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "You're too smooth for your own good, you know that?"

Evander's soft laugh echoed in the bathroom, the sound sending a pleasant warmth through Delilah's chest. His golden eyes sparkled under the light as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His hands rested comfortably on her hips, thumbs brushing back and forth in soothing circles, as if grounding himself in her presence.

Her fingers trailed up his torso, starting at the fine fabric of his shirt, which felt as expensive as it looked. She admired the way it molded to his body before her hands moved up to his broad shoulders, her manicured nails glinting under the soft bathroom light. A teasing smile tugged at her lips as she let her hands roam before resting them lightly on his back.

Evander smiled down at her, his gaze warm and adoring. Tilting his head slightly, he brushed a kiss across the tip of her nose. "Would you mind helping me with my hair?" he said softly, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. "You're better at this than I am. Besides"—he smirked—"I know you've been looking for an excuse to touch it."

She grinned, not even bothering to deny it. "You're not wrong. Hand me the gel."

Evander wasted no time, his hands firm but gentle as he lifted her by the hips and set her down on the bathroom counter. Delilah adjusted herself with a smile, her legs dangling off the edge as she grabbed the gel he handed her. Scooping a bit onto her fingers, she leaned closer, her fingers working through his hair with practiced ease.

"I could get used to this," Evander teased, his hands settling back on her hips, his thumbs brushing slow circles against the silky fabric of her robe. His voice was low and playful, but his eyes gave him away—there was a softness there, a look that spoke volumes of how utterly captivated he was by her.

Delilah glanced up, catching the love-struck smile on his face, and felt her cheeks heat up. "You're impossible," she muttered, though her tone was fond. "Now hold still, or your hair is going to end up a mess."

Despite her words, she couldn't help but laugh softly as she worked, carefully combing his dark hair into a slick, timeless style. Her fingers dipped back into the gel, and though she tugged slightly at his hair, she made sure to be gentle, even if he'd feel nothing. "You know," she began with a grin, "I think I would've loved to know you in the twenties. Bet you were a heartbreaker back then."

Evander's grin widened, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. "I was more reckless, I'll admit. But you'd have loved it—the Jazz Age was something else. The girls were glamorous and sexy, the music was electric, and the parties...well, they went on until dawn, everyone around danced until they dropped."

Delilah hummed thoughtfully, her smile growing as she imagined him in that era—charming, confident, and no doubt the center of every room he walked into. "It does sound amazing. But I'm guessing your definition of reckless is a bit more...intense than most people's."

He chuckled, the sound rich and low. "Perhaps. But it was a magnificent time to be alive—or undead, in my case. The energy, the freedom, the decadence... It was one of the best decades of my life."

Delilah loved the way his face lit up when he talked about his past. It was a rare glimpse into the long, winding road of his existence, and she hung on to every word. "You should tell me more about it later," she said softly, her fingers giving his hair one last pass. "I could listen to your stories forever."

Evander leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling. "Anything for you, my love."

Satisfied with her work, Delilah set the comb down and admired her handiwork. "Perfect," she announced with a grin, leaning in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips.

When she pulled back, she giggled at the sight of her red lipstick smudged on his lips. "Oops," she teased, reaching for a wipe. "Hold still." She gently wiped away the stain, laughing softly when he leaned into her touch.

As she slid off the counter, his hands stayed firmly on her hips, his grip tightening slightly as she turned to wash her hands. She felt his presence behind her, the warmth of him close enough to make her pulse quicken.

"Careful, princess," he murmured, his voice a low hum against her ear. "You're making it hard for me to let you leave this room."

She turned back to him with a playful smile, her cheeks flushed. "You'll just have to be patient. Remember, you haven't even seen my dress on me yet."

Evander groaned dramatically, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "You're torturing me."

"And you love it," she teased, stepping back and brushing a quick kiss against his jaw. "Now finish getting ready."

Alice burst into the room with her signature flair, her energy practically radiating. "Well, well, look at you two!" she said with a low whistle, hands on her hips as she surveyed the picture-perfect couple. "Hot doesn't even begin to cover it. Now, come on—it's photo time!"

Delilah giggled, the nervous energy she'd been feeling dissipating slightly as Alice's enthusiasm filled the space. She turned to Evander, her smile bright as she reached for his hand. "Ready for the spotlight?" she teased, giving him a playful tug toward the door.

He chuckled, allowing her to pull him along. "With you by my side? Always."

The moment they stepped into the main room, a chorus of murmurs and whistles greeted them. The others had already gathered, and the room fell into a stunned silence as everyone turned to admire each other's outfits. Delilah's heart raced as Alice gave her an encouraging wink, nodding toward her robe. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, but anticipation swirled with a hint of nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, she undid the knot at her waist and let the silk fabric slide off her shoulders. The robe thrown over the back of the couch, revealing the stunning dress Evander had chosen for her. The soft gasps and excited exclamations from the girls filled the air almost instantly.

"Oh my gosh, Delilah!" Alice squealed, clapping her hands together. "You look incredible!"

"You're breathtaking," Rosalie added with a rare, genuine smile, her usual reserved demeanor softening in admiration.

Esme and Mabel exchanged a look, their expressions glowing with pride. "Absolutely stunning," Esme said warmly. "Evander outdid himself."

Delilah barely registered the compliments, her eyes locked on Evander's. His gaze was unwavering, golden eyes tracing every detail of her dress, every curve it highlighted. That signature, heart-stopping smile spread across his face, and she swore her cheeks had never felt hotter.

"You're staring," she mumbled, her voice soft but teasing as she met his eyes.

"Can you blame me?" he murmured back, his tone low and full of affection. "You're...you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her heart fluttered, and she barely resisted the urge to hide her face. Instead, she reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You clean up pretty well yourself, you know."

Alice clapped her hands, breaking the spell between them. "Alright, lovebirds, let's get this show on the road! Photos first, then we're heading out!"

The Cullen house buzzed with laughter and playful banter as everyone posed for photos. They went through every possible combination: group photos, individual shots, sibling pictures, girls-only, boys-only, and, of course, the coveted couple portraits.

When it was finally Delilah and Evander's turn, he wasted no time pulling her close. His hands trailed lightly over the intricate beading of her dress, his touch sending sparks down her spine. As the camera clicked, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her cheek, his lips lingering just long enough to make her heart race.

Delilah turned her head toward him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of affection and mischief. "You know you're going to ruin my lipstick," she teased softly, though her smile betrayed that she didn't really mind.

Evander smirked, his voice low and teasing as he replied, "You look even more ravishing with it smudged."

Before she could respond, he tilted her chin up and captured her lips in a kiss. The camera flashed, and Alice's delighted squeal could be heard in the background.

The drive to the venue was filled with laughter and excitement, the group buzzing with anticipation. When they arrived at the grand hall, Delilah couldn't help but pause, her breath catching as she took in the scene before her. The decorations were flawless, a perfect tribute to the Jazz Age. Every detail—from the art deco patterns to the glittering chandeliers—transported her to another time.

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes wide as she turned to Evander. "It's...perfect."

He smiled, his hand resting securely in hers. "Not as perfect as you."

Before she could reply, a familiar voice rang out from the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please!"

Delilah's eyes snapped to Braelyn, who stood confidently at the microphone, her grin wide and mischievous. "It is my absolute pleasure to introduce the woman who made all of this possible—our student council president, cheer captain, valedictorian, and my best friend, Delilah Swan!"

The room erupted into applause, and Delilah felt her cheeks flush as she glanced at Evander. "Did you know about this?" she whispered.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Maybe."

Braelyn's voice softened, her tone full of sincerity as she added, "She's more than all those titles, though. She's the kindest, most brilliant, and most determined person I know. I'd be lost without her."

Delilah's throat tightened, emotion swelling as she met Braelyn's gaze. The love and pride in her best friend's expression was overwhelming, and she felt a lump form in her throat.

Evander leaned down, his voice a soft hum in her ear. "Go on, sweetheart. They're all waiting for you."

Delilah's smile was so wide it was a miracle her cheeks weren't aching yet. She waved at her classmates, her heart bursting with pride as the room buzzed with excitement. The energy was contagious, the seniors owning the night as they celebrated their final hurrah together. The music from the jazz band pulsed through the hall, filling the air with the lively sounds of the 1920s.

She couldn't help but grin as her gaze landed on Rosalie and Emmett on the dance floor, the typically reserved blonde laughing as Emmett twirled her dramatically. It seemed tonight was the night for surprises, and Delilah wasn't about to miss a single moment of it.

Her attention shifted as the tempo of the music changed, a familiar tune kicking up. Delilah turned, grabbing Evander's hand with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on," she said, dragging him toward the dance floor.

Evander hesitated, his brow raising as he glanced around at the crowd. "You know I'm not much of a dancer," he reminded her, though his tone was light.

Delilah stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with an exaggerated pout. "Not even for me?" she teased, tilting her head and giving him her best doe-eyed look.

He sighed, his resolve crumbling instantly. "You fight dirty," he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Taking his compliance as victory, she led him onto the floor, the lively beat of the Texas Tommy filling her veins with energy. This was her moment. She'd practiced for weeks, and now she had the perfect partner.

Evander might have claimed to be a reluctant dancer, but the way he moved with her was nothing short of graceful. His strong hands guided her through the fast-paced steps, their movements perfectly in sync. Delilah's laughter rang out as he spun her effortlessly, her dress flaring around her like a shimmering cascade of light. The crowd parted slightly to give them space, heads turning as they moved together like they were born to dance.

"Show off," Rhyland called out as they passed him and Braelyn, the latter giggling at Evander's unexpected agility.

Evander smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he dipped Delilah low. "Only for her," he shot back, his voice carrying easily over the music.

The floor filled quickly as more couples joined in. Braelyn, never one to be left out, yanked Rhyland in her wake, and soon the group was caught up in the collective rhythm of the Charleston.

Delilah couldn't stop smiling, her heart swelling as she glanced around the room. The chaperones—Esme, Carlisle, and even Mabel—watched from the sidelines with approving smiles, clearly impressed by how well the students had embraced the theme.

"This is incredible!" Braelyn called out, spinning in a circle before locking arms with Delilah. "I can't believe you got the cheer squad to swap pom-poms for jazz hands!"

Delilah laughed, shrugging as she twirled back into Evander's arms. "It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely," Braelyn agreed, her grin infectious.

As the music shifted into a modern beat, the group dissolved into easy laughter, collapsing into chairs or heading toward the refreshments. Delilah, breathing heavily from the exertion, felt herself spun around once more. Her laughter turned into a gasp as Evander dipped her low, his golden eyes meeting hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're absolutely amazing," he murmured, his voice soft as he brought her back upright.

Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip, her heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the dancing. "Well, you helped too, so that makes you amazing too." she whispered.

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, the world fading away for a moment. When he pulled back, his smile was playful. "How about a drink?"

She nodded, her voice breathy as she replied, "Please."

As Evander disappeared toward the refreshments table, Delilah took a moment to soak it all in. The night was perfect—better than she could have imagined. She wandered through the hall, checking in with friends and classmates. The food was a hit, the music had everyone moving, and laughter filled every corner of the space.

Her gaze landed on Calum and Ethan, who had finally joined the dance floor and were attempting some modern moves, much to the amusement of those around them. Even Carlisle had been dragged into a conversation with some of the more curious students, his calm and charming demeanor captivating them.

Evander returned with a drink in hand, his other arm snaking around her waist as he handed her the glass. "All good?" he asked, his voice low and comforting.

She smiled up at him, her heart full. "Perfect."

The air in the grand hall was electric, filled with the faint hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter. Delilah leaned back against Evander, her fingers idly toying with the hem of her dress. His jacket was draped casually over the back of his chair, and he was mid-conversation with Emmett and Rhyland, their voices low but laced with amusement. Across from her, Rosalie stood poised, her golden curls glowing under the soft lights as she gave Delilah a small smirk.

"I have to admit," Rosalie said, sipping from her glass, "this prom is...impressive. Almost makes me wish I had one like this back in the day."

"High praise from the queen of high standards," Delilah teased, earning a soft laugh from Rosalie. "But don't give me all the credit. Braelyn and the others practically begged me to delegate this year."

Rosalie raised an elegant brow. "And yet, here you are, still running the show."

Delilah shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips. "Old habits die hard."

Before Rosalie could respond, the music abruptly stopped, cutting through the room like a record scratch. A collective groan rose from the crowd, and Delilah turned to see Braelyn strutting onto the stage with a wide grin, a microphone in hand.

"Oh, stop groaning! I know you're having fun," Braelyn quipped, earning a few chuckles. "But it's time for the main event—the announcement of your senior prom king and queen!"

The room erupted in cheers and applause. Delilah glanced over her shoulder at Evander, who was watching Braelyn with an amused smile.

"Here we go," he muttered, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Delilah rolled her eyes playfully. "Relax, Mr. Too-Cool-For-Prom. This is tradition."

He smirked, leaning down to whisper, "I'd rather spend the rest of the night here with you."

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could respond, Calum stepped up to the microphone, his boyish grin lighting up the stage. "Alright, folks, let's keep this short and sweet. First of all, thank you for coming tonight and making this prom one for the books. And now, without further ado..."

The room fell silent, everyone leaning in with anticipation.

"Evander Denali and Delilah Swan!" Ethan announced, his voice carrying over the cheers that erupted immediately after.

Delilah froze, her conversation with Rosalie falling away as her ears rang with the announcement. For a moment, everything felt distant—the hoots and applause blurred into a dull roar. She hadn't even run for prom queen this year, and neither did Evander, after all he had only joined the middle of the semester.

It wasn't until she felt the cold familiar hand of her boyfriend slip into hers that she snapped back to reality. Evander was already grinning, his expression calm but his golden eyes alight with surprise. "Come on," he said softly, giving her hand a gentle tug.

"Wait—what?" she stammered, her wide eyes darting from him to the stage. It wasn't his type of scene, having so much attention on him, but he could hear every single person's whispering even Esme who gushed about how proud she was of her nephew.

"Apparently, we're royalty now," he teased, his grin widening as he led her through the crowd.

The applause grew louder as they reached the stage. Delilah felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she climbed the steps, Evander's steady hand never leaving hers.

Bridget and Braelyn stepped forward, each holding a crown. Braelyn placed the delicate, feminine crown atop Delilah's head, her grin practically splitting her face. "You deserve it," she whispered, giving her a quick wink.

Bridget handed the masculine crown to Evander, who bent slightly to allow her to place it on his head. "Looking sharp," Bridget teased, stepping back with a satisfied nod.

Rhyland grabbed the microphone, dramatically raising his arms. "Behold!" he declared, his voice exaggerated and theatrical. "The king and queen of Forks High! Give it up for them, people!"

The crowd erupted into cheers once more, the energy infectious. Delilah glanced at Evander, her heart skipping a beat at the fond look on his face. He leaned down, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"Seems like we make a good team," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Delilah couldn't help but smile, her cheeks still flushed. "I had no idea you were this popular," she quipped, trying to mask her nerves with humor.

"Neither did I," he replied with a chuckle, his hand slipping around her waist as they turned to face the crowd.

The camera flashes were almost blinding as the moment was immortalized, Evander's arm secure around Delilah's waist. The coolness of his touch and the adoring look in his eyes grounded her, making the overwhelming moment feel special rather than daunting.

As the applause died down and the music picked back up, Evander led her off the stage, his hand never leaving hers. "Dance with me," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

She smiled up at him, her heart full. "I thought you didn't like the spotlight."

"For you, I'll make an exception," he said with a grin, pulling her toward the dance floor as the night continued in full swing.

As the night was winding into its final, unforgettable moments, the spotlight dimmed ever so slightly. The music shifted to something slower, softer, and familiar—but certainly not from the jazz age. Evander stepped toward the DJ booth, murmuring something to the operator. A moment later, the unmistakable opening notes of "Hungry Eyes" floated through the room.

There were multiple teasing remarks thrown around from his cousins, which no one else heard. Braelyn, standing off to the side, leaned closer to Rhyland her voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, he's good!"

Evander turned, his golden eyes locking onto Delilah's, and she felt a warm flush creep up her neck as he crossed the floor to her. The room seemed to blur around them as he bowed ever so slightly, extending a hand toward her. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth, confident, and entirely hers.

Delilah laughed softly, slipping her smaller hand into his. "How could I say no?" she replied, letting him pull her closer.

As the song was one she loved, purely because of how much she had watched Dirty Dancing, Evander spun her gently into his arms, his movements fluid and natural as though choreographed just for her. His hands settled low on her waist, resting at the curve of her back but never crossing the line, while her arms looped around his neck, fingers brushing against the collar of his crisp white shirt.

"You know," she began, her voice light with humor as she looked up at him, "this song isn't exactly era-appropriate."

Evander's lips quirked into a playful smile, his forehead lowering until it just barely brushed hers. "I'm well aware, darling," he said softly, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. "But something tells me you don't really mind, it's one of your favourites after all."

Her cheeks warmed, her body relaxing into his as she smiled. "You'd be right."

The music seemed to wrap around them, cocooning them in their own little bubble. The world faded—no prom, no crowd, no one else. Just Delilah and Evander, moving together in perfect sync. Her exhaustion melted away with each step, replaced by an overwhelming sense of calm and contentment. She didn't even notice when the others on the dance floor began joining them.

Evander's hold tightened ever so slightly, pulling her closer until there wasn't an inch of space left between them. He tilted his head down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then to her lips, slow and reverent. The taste of his kiss, cold but comforting, soft, and lingering, felt like home. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers, his voice low and steady.

"Evander..." she started, but the words caught in her throat. Her heart pounded as his forehead pressed gently against hers, their noses brushing.

"Delilah," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the music. His golden eyes searched hers, his expression unguarded. "I love you."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she could only stare at him, her mind racing. The weight of his words hung in the air between them, but there was no fear in his gaze—only an unshakable confidence in what he'd just said.

"You... love me?" she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

He smiled, that breathtaking, heart-stopping smile. "With everything I have," he said simply. "I don't think I've loved anything—or anyone—more than I love you."

A shaky laugh bubbled out of her as tears pricked her eyes. "Baby..." she whispered, her hands tightening around his neck. "I love you, too. So so much."

His smile lit up his entire face, brighter than she'd ever seen before, as he let out a soft laugh of relief. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that," he said, dipping his head down to kiss her again, slow and tender, as if sealing their confessions.

She laughed again, this time leaning up to press her lips softly against his. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as though the rest of the world didn't exist.

The world came back into focus as the song reached its crescendo, but their bubble of intimacy remained unbroken. Around them, classmates were swaying, laughing, and sneaking glances at the pair who had unknowingly stolen the show. Braelyn, standing near the edge of the dance floor, whispered loudly to Bridget, "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Operation senior prom," Delilah murmured, her voice light with humor, "was an unmitigated success."

Evander chuckled, brushing a stray curl from her face. "I'd say we as the committee outdid ourselves."

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smirk. "You know now you'll have to deal with my need to have the best valedictorian speech ever."

He laughed softly, leaning down to kiss her again. "Well, princess, lucky for you I'm quite good with literature and words, I'll be a perfect critic."

The night continued, the prom becoming a perfect blend of laughter, music, and memories, but for Delilah and Evander, that dance was the true highlight.

It wasn't just prom—it was their night. A night where the past and present collided, and love, timeless and undeniable, was finally spoken aloud.

━━━━━━━━━━━

a/n: prom has officially happened!!
also i love them okay!?
remember to comment, vote & share