Black and white tango

She looked at herself in the mirror and saw a long-haired blonde woman with grey eyes and great beauty. A white, silver-shining dress flowed over her slim and attractive body, creating a smooth relief. It was the day of her greatness and triumph. It was also her birthday, one hundred and fifty years. A lot of relatives and influential guests had gathered in the mansion. Today, she was the queen of the party. She would shine among the aristocracy and wealthy people, and, of course, outshine them all. This was inevitable, because she was a brilliant woman. The elf finally left her room, satisfied with her appearance. In the hallway, two other elves were also waiting for her. They were dressed in long evening gowns, according to the latest trend. "God, and this mediocrity. Well, there would be those like them, but they would not shine like me," - the elde thought with arrogance. "Silfiele, you look beautiful," one of them said. "You look beautiful and I am happy," she thought as her pretty face crept up. Here she appeared in a huge hall filled with guests dressed in jewels and the fragrance of expensive perfumes. Her father greeted her with a smile and introduced her to guests. She was greeted by high-ranked elves who wished her happy birthday. She looked at the young aristocracy, but there were no princes worthy of her. Her father did not dare to invite members of the royal family, and then her eyes fell on an interesting figure. He was standing next to a grown-up Moon Elf and serving her a glass of sparkling wine. His white short hair was styled in a fashionable cut, his trousers were fitted to his iron hips, and his satin shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the cross-shaped collar and wings. A narrow golden chain adorned his neck, and he wore no brocades or jacards, only gold and jewels. Most importantly, he was the one responsible for the party, and it was a Drow. "Who let this one in?! " Sylphile was indignant. The young lady found the subject unpleasant. She dislikes dark ones and treats them with disdain like all light elves do. "A jerk on my holiday!" She persisted, burning with indignation. "He's a member of escort services. They say that the drow are really good at one thing." One of her friends said, laughing. "You see tinde next to him. He accompanies her, "another explained. How did one of the guests come up with the idea to bring a Drow there? If she wanted to insult Silphile, she did so. "From the escort, there wasn't enough money to pay for a light meal. You beggar!" she fumed. "Okay, I'll pay for it now!" She intended to humiliate the upstart publicly for daring to attend the party dressed like a commoner. He would burn with shame and leave by himself. Let him know where he belongs. How to do it? With unique grace, just like she always does, both with him and with his "mistress." What she knows best is dancing. There is no one who can match her in this. She can adapt to any partner or music. And of course, this skill is more important to her than all the other skills that Sylphie possesses. "Father, the first dance, tango," she ordered. "Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention. I announce the first dance of the birthday girl. Tango. Please note, my dears, that it is impossible to refuse her." Not even the waiters." So if you are not sure of your abilities as a dancer, pretend to be a houseplant, " the owner of the house announced with a slight sneer. Restrained chuckles rippled through the guests. The Dark One didn't even turn around, nor did he react to what was happening. "You're a corpse," the elf decided, her steel-gray eyes blazing fiercely. Silfile stepped out into the center of the hall and strode toward the drow with a steady, gliding step. When she stopped beside him and held out her hand haughtily, she met the calm, indifferent purple gaze of her father. He didn't even look surprised or happy that he had been given the honor that only the Emperor deserved. The Dark One bowed briefly, thanking her for her choice, then took her hand and led her to the center of the hall. The music started playing. His hand moved to the center of her back. She put her hand in the other and put her hand on his muscular shoulder, and with all the distaste she could muster, she looked away and away from him. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no trembling of her hands in fear of making a mistake. The slight smile on those coal-black, sensuous lips and the self-assurance made her slightly discouraged. The first slow, catlike movements of the drow made Sylphile follow his lead with confidence. He led with grace and firmness, choosing each step with such precision as if his feet were reading the notes of music. Alas, it was impossible to keep him at a distance in this dance, as she had intended. That gaze, like a purple abyss, began to engulf her, no matter how much she resisted this dark magnetism. And when the music became more energetic, making the dancers ' hearts beat in unison. Their movements become more intense, creating a beautiful pictorial scene that mesmerized those around them. One step forward, two steps back. These interweaves and divergences were made up of elegance and an awakening passion. They moved expertly in the dance, as if they were born for it. The partners confidently swirled around the dance floor, like a beautiful mesmerizing whirlwind, changing their poses and direction of movement. In this incredible choreographed performance, they, the main performers, guided the audience through the curves of their all-consuming passion, which more and more captured them both, forcing them to forget everything that was happening around them. Just those gliding steps, leaving behind traces of passion and awe. Just his movement, just his hands, his solid body, his burning gaze. Sylphile realized that this was a battle she had lost. In front of her was a dancer who was as skilled as she was. She longed for this dizzying dance to never end. So that it grows into something more. Tango was actively developing and finally reached its peak. Without remembering anything, she merges with him in a spontaneous and sensual dialogue of their heated bodies. Her gray eyes glowed with the same passion and lust as his own. And her body was on fire from his confident and strong touch. Sylphile felt that they were made for each other right now, at this very moment, turning the dance into a work of art, making them perfect partners. Gradually, like everything else in this world, the tango comes to its end. The world won't be the same for her. The elf and the drow made their final movements as if they were saying goodbye to each other. And so the final twist leaves the air on the dance floor charged with the sincerity and beauty that only such a fiery dance can create. He stopped, stepped away from her, and bowed to her. His purple eyes no longer held the all-consuming fervor that she had succumbed to before. For him, it was just a game, just a dance. A burst of applause brought me to my senses, to wake up from a sweet oblivion. "You've lost this battle, my dear," his slightly mocking gaze seemed to say. And that made her blush deeply. He took her back to her father, thanked her for the dance, and returned to his lady. For a long time there was a murmur of surprise and admiration in the hall. But the drow hadn't even looked at her all evening, giving his full attention to his lovely companion. And Silfil, agitated by this rootless upstart, this despicable drow, was annoyed and hurt that the one she craved with every fiber of her being was completely indifferent to her and there was nothing between them but tango. And for him, everything that was happening around him was just a job.