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chapter two
( elara noxley and the undercover mission )
i'm not sure what made me fall for you: that look in your eyes or that punch to the gut. ❞

━━━ 𝓔LARA wriggled around in her dress, sighing in defeat when she realized that the source of her annoyance wasn't the skirt being bunched up, but rather it was that the dress was dreadfully uncomfortable

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━━━ 𝓔LARA wriggled around in her dress, sighing in defeat when she realized that the source of her annoyance wasn't the skirt being bunched up, but rather it was that the dress was dreadfully uncomfortable. It was a black evening gown, which was already uncomfortable enough in itself, but the skirt kept getting stuck on the knife in her thigh holster. Every so often she would have to inconspicuously reach down to fix it without garnering any stares from the party goers.

She looked around the room, which was full of Germany's finest. It wasn't bad for a gala — typically Elara hated these sort of things, for a multitude of reasons. The primary reason being the music: the loud orchestral music made it absolutely impossible to mingle with anyone; not that you would want to. She scoffed to herself as she watched the small cliques of people segregate themselves from the others. The scholars stayed with the scholars, the artists with the artists, the politicians with the politicians. She searched around the room for a server, spotting one just a few yards away. She waved him over with a strained smile. When he got closer, she plucked a flute of champagne off of his tray, taking a needy sip. He said something in German to her, but by the look of confusion on her face he quickly realized she didn't understand him.

"You look out of place, miss," he said politely, and she noticed how thick his accent was while he spoke, "what brings you here?" She studied him briefly. He was smiling at her — he had a beautiful smile, pearly white teeth and dimples — and his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. There was a dusting of freckles on his olive skin, and she could notice a few moles on his forehead hiding underneath his untidy brown hair.

She twirled the flute of champagne in her hand. "I'm waiting for my date," she responded. It wasn't a complete lie; she was awaiting the hostile's arrival. "Though, by the looks of it, I'm starting to think he stood me up."

His expression quickly changed to confusion. "Stood you up? Whoever he is, he is not very smart. You are a very beautiful woman." She couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks, and she raised the drink to her face to take another sip in hopes to hide her face. His smile returned when he caught a glimpse of her pink-tinted cheeks. "You don't understand any German?" She shook her head no, still hiding behind her glass. She gazed up at him, and he leaned in just a little to whisper to her. "Du hast wunderschöne Augen." Elara had no idea what he said to her, but his tone of voice sent a shiver down her spine. He let out a soft chuckle as he straightened up once again, giving her one last glance before turning on his heel. "If your date doesn't show up, find me, das mausi," he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the crowd.

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