The venue for Prom was only a short walk from my house, so I opted to walk home and not stink up anyone's car. My mom was still awake when I got home from Prom, meeting me at the door with surprise on her face. "You're home early! And my god, are you okay sweetie? What happened? Your dress is soaked and you smell awful!" She ushered me inside rapidly. "Jason happened. Don't worry, I took care of it though." I answered her questions as I stepped inside and strode over to the stairs. I desperately needed to get out of my foul-smelling dress. With that in mind, I headed to my bathroom to change and get ready to jump into the shower to wash the sour milk from my hair and skin. "Here, take that off and I will get it washed for you! What do you mean you took care of it? What did Jason do?" My mom followed me upstairs to my bathroom door, still speaking. I quickly peeled off my dress and shoes, cracking the door to hand them to her, and then pinned up my hair with a clip to keep it from touching anything else. As I wrapped up in my robe, I explained to my mom what had occurred at Prom, listening to her sounds of dismay.

Fuming from Jason's actions, but proud of me for standing up for myself, my mother left me to do what I needed to. Bidding me goodnight, she walked away to put my dress in our washroom for the night, then retired to her bedroom for the evening, her footsteps growing farther away by the moment. With the hallway clear, I went back into my bedroom to collect a clean set of pajamas for after my shower. As I entered the dark room and reached for the light switch, a soft, familiar voice startled me. "Have fun tonight? With that young man?" I clutched my chest, trying to calm my racing heart as my eyes adjusted and I noticed Pitch leaning against the far wall of my room. His tone held a bitter note to it and his long arms were crossed over his chest. Is Pitch...jealous? I wondered, surprised by the change in his demeanor since the last time I had seen him. Wait...what young man? Jason? How did he even know about him?

I closed my door as quietly as possible, turning on my heel to stare at my friend with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about?" I asked, before a thought dawned on me. "Did you follow me to Prom?" I continued. Pitch sneered, his eyes darting away from me. "I was worried about you...my mistake..." He muttered. I wasn't angry that he had followed me to the dance, after all, I had invited him to come along. But I was confused as to why he seemed so tense. "It's okay, Pitch. I don't mind. Are you alright?" I slowly approached him, pulling my robe tighter around me to ensure I retained some modesty. Pitch answered my question with one of his own, "What is that revolting odor?" He inquired, nose scrunching in disdain as he sniffed the air. I rolled my eyes, "Me. Prom didn't end well." I replied. The Nightmare King raised an eyebrow at that. "Did Prince Charming turn out to be a toad? He didn't sweep you off your feet?" His remarks actually kind of hurt, if I was being honest, but they confirmed my suspicions. "You saw me dancing with Jason." It was not an inquiry this time.

Again, the Boogeyman refused to answer me. "Well, if you had stuck around long enough, you would have seen me tell him to take a hike. He wanted me to go out with him again, and I refused. I don't care about him anymore. He asked for one last dance, which I agreed to. But that was all that happened. He tried to convince me to take him back one more time, and when I said 'no' a second time, his friends dumped spoiled milk all over me. Hence, why I stink." I figured it was best to tell Pitch the whole story. I wasn't quite sure why he cared so much that I danced with Jason, but I suspected that was the reason I was receiving the cold shoulder.

Pitch Black finally met my eyes, his metallic orbs flashing in fury. "He did what?" His voice was nearly a growl. "How dare that wretched child! Are you hurt?" Pitch came closer to me, his fingers brushing over my face to look for any other damage. I shook my head, grasping his hand in my own. "No, I am okay. I am sorry if I worried you, and if my actions confused you. But don't think I just let Jason off the hook. I got him back for his shenanigans, and so did the other girls." I offered a small smile. "I was just getting ready to shower and get rid of this dreadful stench." I added, backing away from my friend. Pitch tilted his head, appearing to be calmer now that he had heard my tale. "So you did not have the evening you hoped you would? Because that young man ruined it?" He questioned.

Shaking my head in a half-hearted affirmative, I responded to him. "It's okay, it happens. Nothing I can do now except move on..." Pitch was silent for a moment, but then his expression brightened. "I apologize for my foul mood when you arrived. I misjudged the situation I saw...but will you allow me to make it up to you, my dear?" He gave me a crooked smile. Eyes widening, I hesitated, unsure about what to say. "It's okay Pitch, truly. You don't have to make anything up to me." The Nightmare King shook his head at me. "I feel I must. At least allow me to attempt to brighten your unpleasant evening." He pressed.

Seeing that there would be no arguing with the Boogeyman on this topic, I relented with a soft sigh. Grinning wider, Pitch brought his middle finger and thumb together, snapping them one time. The sharp sound echoed through the otherwise silent room, and black sand flowed out from underneath my bed.

Nightmare sand surrounded me, covering my body up to my armpits. Instinctively, I struggled, feeling fear bubbling in my belly. I trusted Pitch but I knew what chaos his sand could create. Surprisingly, he was smirking as the sand lowered, and disappeared from the room. My cotton robe was gone, replaced with an onyx gown of chiffon and silk that hugged my body in just the right ways. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline but thankfully I was not hanging out of it. The bodice was see through and beaded with black jewels, and the skirt skimmed the ground, shimmering with obsidian glitter and sequins. My feet even felt different. I picked up the skirt of the dress and gasped, seeing the beautiful black heels I was wearing. This outfit was entirely different than the one I had been wearing at Prom, but the style suited me. I loved it.

I looked back up at Pitch, gazing at him in shock. He looked pleased with himself, examining his handy work from afar. "Better?" He inquired. I was speechless, unable to express my gratitude or amazement. I feared my words might betray my emotions. I loved this man, and his unwavering kindness toward me did not help. The cloaked man got to his feet, moving toward me slowly, seemingly waiting for me to tell him to stop. I didn't. Surely he could feel my nerves, though it wasn't fear that I was feeling. He held his hand out to me, acting like a gentleman like he always was. "May I have this dance, my pretty nightflower?" He asked, bowing deeply before me. I knew my answer before he even finished the question. "Of course," I replied immediately, a soft smile gracing my features. This was the one dance I had longed for all evening. I was not about to waste my opportunity.

Pitch POV

Upon hearing about his friend's horrible night, Pitch realized that he had completely misunderstood the scene he had witnessed in the ballroom. Anara was not at all receptive toward Jason, in any way or form. Knowing he had reacted under false understanding, Pitch decided he would make it up to her somehow. He had been working on a surprise for the young woman, and perhaps this night would be the best time to reveal it to her. Asking her to dance would be the first step, but the best was yet to come. The Nightmare King's heart began to pound in his chest as he placed his hand on Anara Rose's waist. What did I get myself into? He wondered. He reminisced on her childhood, remembering that even then she used to be a brave child. Over the years she had grown into a very pretty woman and respectable lady.

As his young friend placed her hand on his shoulder and took his outstretched palm, he could see that she had truly blossomed and matured into a woman any man would be lucky to call his. She possessed an ethereal beauty unmatched by any other, except perhaps his long dead wife. Pitch was still dealing with his whirlwind emotions, though he did his best to conceal it. This evening would be a long one, especially if Anara continued to look as stunning as she did, and if she kept staring at him with those tiny stars in her eyes.

Anara POV

Accepting Pitch's hand was not a difficult decision by any stretch of the imagination. I curtsied to the man before me, the bottom of my skirt flaring out as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Both of us stood up straight again, and Pitch tugged me closer to his body. Warmth spread through my side as I felt his large right hand rest on my waist. Taking a shaky breath, I placed my left hand on his shoulder and stared up into his eyes for a moment. "Now, for some ambience..." Pitch trailed off.

The floor below us gave way, causing me to clutch my friend tighter as we sunk through the shrouds of shadows. Though I had travelled like this with Pitch on numerous occasions already, my skin still crawled with goosebumps created by the frosty chills of the darkness. Thankfully, the teleportation didn't take very long and I soon found myself on solid ground once again. When I got my bearings, I turned my head from side to side, taking in my new surroundings.

We were standing in an abandoned ballroom, a long circular chamber with white marble walls and polished black floors crafted from the same material. The high ceiling contained an extensive rib-vaulted design, and stone pillars that were fastened to the ground supported the sections of the ceiling where the plates met and formed sharp peaks. The columns were the same porcelain shade that surrounded us throughout the hall, with tiny streaks of grey speckling the fluted shafts of each one.

A circular chandelier dangled from the center of the room, the small multifaceted diamonds in the shape of teardrops hung from three layers of wrought iron framing. Silver chains draped around the edges of the metal and tinkled as a breeze caused the chandelier to gently sway. Slender taper candles sat in small holders around the rim of the fixture, their coal colored bodies almost blending into the metal. Little orange flames lapped at the air, casting small reflections on the tiles under my feet.

A few moments passed before I was able to stop staring at my surroundings. When I finally met Pitch's eyes, he was smiling at me. "This is stunning, Pitch. Where are we?" I inquired. "My lair, my dear. This is my old ballroom...I have been refurbishing it, as of late." He answered, gesturing to the entire chamber. My mouth gaped open in astonishment. I had never been to this part of his castle. "But...why?" "I figured you may enjoy experiencing the grandeur of what my home once was. This is how it looked when I was known as Kozmotis Pitchiner..." He replied, shuffling closer to me. I shook my head, still processing the beauty of this exquisite site.

Taking a breath, I smiled at the Nightmare King hopefully. "So, about that dance...?" Pitch chuckled softly, his grip on my waist a bit firmer than before. "Let me show you how we used to waltz, many years ago." He offered, his silken voice relaxing my subconscious tension. Out of nowhere, faint piano notes began to filter through the air, echoing through the enormous ballroom. "Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember." A feminine voice sang a lullaby-like tone. Pitch started to sway from side to side, guiding my body to do the same. In step with the slow rhythm of the ballad, we circled one another one time, before returning to our previous position. "And a song someone sings once upon a december..."

The Nightmare King then placed his right hand behind his back, bent at a 45 degree angle, and rested his left forearm under my right arm, lifting and lowering mine in accordance with our shifting steps. "Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm." When our hands were nearly touching on the fourth lift, his fingers brushed over my wrist and I instinctively twirled a single time under his arm. "Figures dancing gracefully across my memory..." When I faced him again, Pitch was holding out his left arm to me, and I grasped it lightly with both hands, allowing him to lead me in a clockwise turn for a few moments. We switched sides a few beats later, repeating our previous motions while stepping in the opposite direction.

This time, Pitch drew his arm away, encouraging me to spin again. My skirt flared out around my feet, momentarily distracting me before my friend took my hand within his own. He side-stepped toward me, signaling that I should do the same. I stared at our joined hands as he raised them over our heads, my left side grazing his right. Pitch stepped away, holding me at arms length for a few notes, then I felt him begin to pull me in again. "Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm." We repeated these steps once more.

The Boogeyman suddenly shifted closer to me, his right arm sliding around my waist and his left hand taking my own. I gasped quietly in response to the silent intensity of the movement. "Figures dancing gracefully across my memory!" My eyes were glued to Pitch's smile as he guided me through a simple box step, turning us as we went. I leaned my head back, savoring the feeling of dancing with my friend. The two of us continued to waltz across the gleaming floor, our movements slow but sure with every step. With every turn, I felt like I was sinking into a dream I never wanted to leave. Pitch almost seemed to be doing all of the work, and I felt light on my feet though not quite dizzy. No one had ever danced with me like this. I felt like a real life princess...

The music crescendoed in the background, the beat quickening for a short verse. "Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember." Pitch placed both of his hands on my waist, lifting me from the ground and spinning me in a circle. I was nothing short of breathless at this point, knowing I surely must have had stars in my eyes. "Things my heart used to know...Things it yearns to remember..." He set me down on my feet carefully, our faces mere centimeters apart for a moment. Pitch took my hand one more time and twirled me again, wrapping me in his arms at the same time. "And a song someone sings...once upon a...december..." Then the Nightmare King gently leaned me back, bracing the weight of my body as I relaxed in his grasp. My heart was racing a million miles a minute, simply because of the way this man was capable of making me feel.

Pitch and I stared at one another silently for a minute or two, until he finally set me back on my feet. "That was...the most amazing dance I've ever shared with anyone..." I admitted shyly. Pitch bowed to me, lifting the hand he was still holding up to his lips and kissing my knuckles in the most chivalrous fashion I had ever seen. "I'm glad to have provided such for you, my pretty nightflower..." He murmured, straightening up and releasing my hand.

Closing what little remained of the distance between us, I draped my arms over Pitch's shoulders, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Pitch. For giving me an amazing Prom night memory. I couldn't have asked for a better evening." I told him, sighing contentedly. I felt his chuckle more than I heard it, "You're very welcome, my dear." He replied, his arms encircling me as he returned my gesture. Strangely, neither of us pulled away from the intimate embrace, not that I minded.

Another slow guitar melody began to play overhead. I rested my head against Pitch's chest, my cheek pressed to his heart as we listened to the music. This song was one I recognized as well, from a well-known artist of my time. My skin flushed when I realized that the lyrics to this ballad were pretty romantic. Still, Pitch made no move to push me away from him. Instead, we started to sway gently to the beat; not really dancing but not really standing still either, just small shuffles of our feet while we maintained our position.

I could feel his heartbeat just as surely as my own. Its calm rhythm was soothing. I could faintly hear the Nightmare King humming along to the song while he brushed his fingers through the curls in my hair. The longer we stood together, the more the atmosphere seemed to shift around us. Something felt different. Lifting my head to look at Pitch, I found that he was already staring at me with an obvious fondness. I could feel the anticipation building up inside of me, an inexplicable desire for him. To feel his lips against mine, our bodies aligned and pressed snugly together. So I did the unthinkable.

My eyes flicked between his lips and eyes one last time before I made my decision. Nodding as if to affirm myself, I stood on my toes and pressed my lips against his. Pitch's mouth was cool yet inviting when I kissed him softly. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I cautiously leaned further into his body, carding my fingers through his raven colored hair. He tasted of darkness and temptation, and the fact that he was slowly responding to my touch thrilled me like nothing ever had before. Never before had I experienced a kiss so pure and so enticing all at once. The Nightmare King's mouth seemed to melt against mine, his hands resting on my waist lightly, thumbs stroking my sides lazily. It was...breathtaking...

Pitch POV

Pitch's eyes widened as he felt Anara's lips brush against his hesitantly. But ever so slowly, he allowed himself to sink into a state of perpetual bliss, pressing his mouth back against hers as she grew more insistent. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and he pulled her closer, unable to get enough of her intoxicating touch. It had been centuries since he had last kissed a woman and he was enjoying every moment of it. The way her hands held him tightly, the gentle pressure of her lips caressing his. He noted that her mouth tasted of warm vanilla bean, sweet yet spicy, likely from the clear chapstick he had watched her apply at the start of the evening. Her kiss was hesitant but full of so much emotion that it nearly swept Pitch off his feet.

But then his thoughts broke through his euphoria, bringing back memories of pain and sadness and loss. What if he lost her like he had his wife and daughter so long ago? He couldn't bear it. Eyes opening in shock, he pulled away from the girl, forcing her to let go of him. Her expression was one of pure horror. Oh no. He thought. Anara's eyes welled up with fresh tears. "Oh my God. I'm sorry Pitch. I didn't...I shouldn't have...I -" She began, backing away. He was at a loss for words. "I just..." Anara began, shaking her head. Her pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I should've known that you couldn't love me like I love you..." She whispered, unable to meet his eyes as her voice broke. Wait...did she say...no she couldn't...she's mistaken. "It's not that I don't love you..." He murmured sadly.