A Slave to Love

Chapter 45: The Ball

Trigger Warning: There is a bit of a r-a-p-e/assault (it wont let me write the word out) scene up ahead, so in case anyone has any issues at all, you can skip this chapter okay? I don't want anyone to be uncomfortable or to trigger anyone, so please, if you have an issue dont read this chapter, or dont read the ending. I will be putting bold letters in the section before that scene if you want to read up until then, so when you see bold letters know that that is coming up next and to stop reading. I am not trying to offend or trigger or upset or undermine anyone, this is a serious issue and I tried to deal with it as best as I could. If anyone ever wants to talk about anything, whether its on this subject or anything else, you just want a place to go to talk to someone without judgement or just a place to vent, drop me a message and I'll be happy to help in any way that I can; whether its to listen, to refer you to someone with more experience to help you or anything at all.

"This is going to be a disaster," I muttered as Lexi stood behind me, finishing up curling the last few strands of my hair. She had already finished doing my makeup, going so full out that even Jill would be proud of it. I had been resigned to just wearing my freshly tailored dress and leaving my hair down, but Lexi had been adamant about helping me get ready when she heard my lackluster plans for my appearance. She was taking getting ready so seriously.

"Huh. You never struck me as a pessimist," Lexi remarked, giving the last curl a bit of a twist with her finger. In the mirror, I was free to admire her as she fixed me up to princess levels of fancy.

Her long black hair was straightened and perfectly slick and shiny, not a strand out of place, and her makeup was flawless and dramatic, dark around her eyes and making them pop even more than usual, and her blood red lips contrasted like blood on snow against her pale skin. She was so ridiculously beautiful I could barely stop looking at her, and she wasn't even dressed yet, just wrapped up in a robe while we got ready. I was sure the full effect would only be more ethereal.

It was incredibly bruising to my self esteem.

"I'm a realist."

She rolled her eyes at me, pulling a face that reminded me so much of Blade, before she put the last bobby pin in, tucking my fresh curls into a half updo with a few curled strands framing my face.

"Done!" she announced.

"Finally," I said, as I switched my gaze to my own reflection with a start. I looked unrecognizable. Who knew it was possible to look anywhere near this good? I twisted my head back and forth, trying to see from all angles what she'd done to my hair; it had never looked half as beautiful as this. Normally I just brushed it or braided it after a shower to get some wave going, otherwise it sort of did whatever it wanted to do or I gave up and threw it into a ponytail. Maybe I should give this whole makeup and hair thing a try.

"Alright! Now let's get dressed, I want to see the full picture," Lexi said, dragging me out of the bathroom and into my room where our dresses were hung up. 

It was kind of amusing that Blade had been so nervous about us meeting, afraid she might pull some ridiculous scheme, and yet here we were, getting ready together like we were best friends for years.

There was a knock on the door around the same time I registered Blade's presence nearby.

"Are you guys almost done? We have to leave in a few minutes," Blade called through the door, tone impatient.

"Yeah, yeah. Wait for us downstairs," Lexi said, unzipping the bags that had our dresses in them.

"If Mom asks, I'm throwing you under the bus," he called back, but he did go off to wait downstairs anyways.

"Holy shit," I said as she revealed my dress. I hadn't seen it since we dropped it off at the tailor, not even when we picked it up. Lexi insisted I waited until the night of the ball, but that just made me worry that the dress had been ruined or would look hideous on me since I haven't even tried on the final product to test it, which would mean a last minute scramble or suffering through it. But looking at it now, any doubt I had disappeared.

The dress had been beautiful before, but the tailor had done an excellent job fixing it up and modernizing it. The red and white worked beautifully together, with the tightly fitted bodice holding all the same ornate and swirling designs across the fabric up to the sweetheart neckline. The skirt had been cut and changed, the ruined bits removed and so it wasn't as heavy or full, and now the skirt boasted a white underskirt with more of the pattern splayed in red, with a matching red wraparound cut to leave a triangle of white and pattern open in the front.