Court / Ball room AU {snowbaz}

1. expectations

Simon's point of view.

These fancy parties are not my way of enjoying the late evening. My father expects me to dance with the youthful ladies. It's a good way of making connections and to keep up your status, he tells me every time.

I don't enjoy dancing with the young ladies. For one, I cannot dance very well. I feel uncomfortable doing it. It all of a sudden makes my feel like my feet and my legs are not my own; like my mind is not the one in control.

Second: I don't like the expectations; the expectation my father has, about me making connections and maybe even finding a wife; the expectations of the ladies, they don't dance because they like it, they dance with me for connections, just like I dance with them for connections. They dance with me because it gives them a higher status on these balls. And they expect me to be a graceful gentleman, whilst I know for a fact they don't like me. Why do I have to be a gentleman to someone that doesn't even like me? Why even try?

Tonights ball is at the Pitch Manor, which is great. I normally try to sneak away from the ballroom. I like to wander the hallways of the manors and forget about expectations.

The Pitch Manor is huge, which makes it a great place for wandering around. It also makes it a great place for getting lost, which is what is happening right now.

There are so many hallways and stairs that lead to smaller hallways that lead to new big hallways. There are so many corners and turns. I don't know if there is reason for panic yet. I'm good at navigating, I'll just trust on myself. I'll find the way back.

I turn into another hallway. A big one this time. To my right I notice two big, glass doors. Curious, I take a look. Books. So many books. I realize that I have found the library and it's absolutely huge.

Very carefully I open the glass doors. It surprised me that they aren't locked. I walk into the library and stare at all the books, my mouth hanging open slightly. I'm not even a big reader, but the amount of books, the amount of stories in just one place amazes me. The must be thousands upon thousands of books here.

I walk around, looking up at the high shelves. They're all neatly organized. Then I notice two new glass doors. Door that lead to outside; to a balcony.

The doors are slightly open. Is there a person there? I go to take a look, very carefully closing the doors behind me as I step out on the balcony. As I turn to look around I see a young man. He is sitting on the broad railing of the balcony, his back leaning against a pillar, reading a big book.

He's wearing a dark green suit, his skin golden as the sun, his hair black as the night. He's tall and elegant and his face has sharp features.

The young man doesn't look up from his book. I must be lost into the story he's reading. I wonder about coming closer; about talking to him, but I don't feel like disturbing him.

I quietly pace back to the glass doors and when I get to them, I realize there is no handle at this side of the door. I try to push the door open, but the doors don't open inward. I curse to myself. What kind of stupidity is this? No wonder why the door had been slightly open when I came here.

I look back over my shoulder, at the young man. He's not reading anymore. His eyes are fixated on me. He doesn't say anything, he just stares with his head a little bit tilted to the side.

"I think I locked us out on the balcony?" My voice is hesitant, almost shy.

The young man looks at the doors and stands up from the balcony railing. He walks towards me, past me and he takes a look at the closed doors.