Mondo Pastello | girlxgirl | Completed♕

Chapter XXIII ♥ Last Evening

Melanie's dress above ♥

♕♥ ♕♥ ♕

"I can't do this. I just can't," presently I was flipping out, Alejandro storming after me like a lost puppy.

"It's not that bad, Mel!" he called after me, using dramatic gestures to try and make me feel better.

"You're right. 'Bad' is an understatement. Absolutely horrifying comes close, but I'm sure I can find a better word," I nodded towards him with determination, circling the room whilst walking backwards so that he couldn't come near me.

"You're being ridiculous!" he jogged towards me, but I only recoiled and moved backwards more quickly.

"No, 'ridiculous' isn't really the emotive word I am looking for," he suddenly stopped in his track and sighed deeply, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was going to pull them all out at once.

"You're bloody nuts!" he called after me, but I could only give him a scoff before adorning a satisfied look.

"That was the most British thing I have ever heard!" I countered, throwing his words from a week ago back at him. He deflated and crumbled onto the ground, not caring at all how unprofessional it seemed. We were alone in the ballroom, after all. It was five hours before the state ceremony will begin, and I was procrastinating. Alejandro had managed to drag me from my temporary room to the ballroom, with heels tucked under his arm. Now we were trying to slow dance, but after what happened the first night when he danced with me, I was a little sceptical. Sure enough, my heels had more than once penetrated his precious foot flesh.

"Running away won't make you a better dancer!" he cried out desperately, lying face down on the ground as an existential crisis overtook him. Was that my fault? Still, I felt offended at his words and my jaw dropped at his words.

"Excuse you! I'm sure if I learn to run a marathon in these mountains of death then I will certainly be a better dancer!" I shot back at him.

"If that's the case, then maybe you should have done the Running of the Bulls with me. In heels!" he retorted back, his voice muffled by the spotless dancing floor. The room had been decorated the previous day and presently the banquet hall down the corridor was being fixed up for Spain's nobility and leaders.

I felt nervous about meeting the King but tried not to get too nervous. There was a lot of things that could stir even more tension within me so I tried to avoid them. Running around, annoying the Spanish Prince seemed to be my unconscious response. I wasn't complaining.

"Why did I ever agree to take you in?" he mumbled to himself, and I found myself heading towards his unmoving body. I bend onto my knees next to him, sitting like I was taught professionally, and twirled my fingers into his hair. It was softer than I had expected and certainly curly. I wondered which product he used and debated on asking him about it. I eventually decided against it after I remembered how messed up my hair was after the abuse of removing three year-old purple stains.

I didn't want to think about it.

"Am I like a lost puppy?" I asked, a hopeful tone seeping into my voice.

"More like a lost dove," he grumbled back.

"A dove?"

"I don't like doves," I lightly slapped his shoulder. He quickly snapped out of his sulking nature and jumped to his feet. He pulled me up with him. "We need to get dressed," at this I simply nodded, knowing it was inevitable. He escorted me back to my room, not that he needed to. I was accustomed to the palace by now.