Twist Of Fate

I'm Harming Myself And Enjoying It.

"Gemma." I whisper, leaning over to her. She turns away from her friend, and looks at me, smiling. "When're we leaving?" God, I feel so bad for asking her this question again. I'm just super bored.
"Just wait until the first dance and then we'll leave." Gemma says, not at all sounding irritated. I nod my head.
"Okay," I murmur. I glance around the marquee once again, taking in the tonnes of elegantly decked up women and men. My mind immediately wanders over to Harry, who looks so fine in his custom-made suits. The other day, I heard him ordering a suit for an award function that will take place mid-January. Sometimes I wonder, had I not gone to that concert, or to that party; would Harry and I ever have met? No, we wouldn't. I'd be living a normal life, surrounded by books and college friends. But what's the fun in that? Even though my heart hurts right now after what has taken place between Harry and I, I'm never going to wish to turn back time and take a minute of our precious moments away. I've cherished every second with Harry and I'll always remember them. My throat feels parched all of a sudden, so I get up, deciding to get myself some refreshments. People smile at me, as I pass by them on my way to the drinks bar. Everyone here tonight is super friendly. However, I'm just not able to keep a conversation going, thanks to my absent-mindedness. Today's party is like a masked-ball. Everyone is wearing a mask, making us all seem mysterious. I, myself, am wearing a black mask that is laced with black feathers. It's beautiful and is a courtesy of Gemma.
"One Coke, please." I tell the bartender, as I climb onto a high stool. He smiles and nods his head at me.
"How can a pretty lady like yourself, be drinking a Coke on such a night?" Harry says, taking a seat beside me, on another stool. He swings mine toward him, and smiles. Harry is dressed in a black suit, with white lines on either side. He's wearing a white mask that covers half his face. He'd be unrecognizable had I not known him so well, and had I not been able to spot those green orbs anywhere.
"What're you doing here?" I ask Harry, glancing around the room. No one seems to be looking our way.
"Having a night of fun," Harry comments nonchalantly. The bartender brings a Coke for me and Harry orders himself a drink. "Breathe, M, no one's going to recognize us tonight. We can do whatever we please." I moisten my lips nervously. Harry places his hand over mine and squeezes comfortingly. "Trust me on this one." His eyes are filled with so much honesty and surety that I sigh, and nod. He smiles and picks up my hand, and brings it to his lips. Harry kisses each one of my knuckles, setting off butterflies in my stomach and alarms in my head.
"Who invited you tonight?" I question, after taking a sip of my Coke.
"Mum. She said that tonight is a masked ball and if we both wear masks, no one will recognize us, meaning we can enjoy ourselves to the fullest. She was right," Harry explains. There's a mischievous gleam in his eyes that makes me wonder what he's thinking we're going to do tonight. Hell, right now, even if he tells me to jump off a cliff, I'll oblige. Suddenly, the lights dim and Gemma and her friend, Keisha, get on stage. Harry and I both turn our stools so that we're facing the stage.
"Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen!" Keisha's voice booms loud and clear across the marquee. "I'm sure you've all been waiting for this hour to strike, as now we commence our ball." I raise an eyebrow at Harry, suppressing my grin.
"Yeah, she's melodramatic." Harry whispers, leaning over. I punch his upper arm lightly.
"Be nice," I scold.
"Now, gentlemen, please find a partner for the first dance and get on the dance floor." Keisha continues, raising her hands in front of her. Harry clears his throat and gets off the stool. He places his right hand behind his back and takes a small bow.
"Would Your Royal Highness, please do me the honor and dance with me for this first dance?" Harry asks me, smiling expectantly. There's hope in his eyes and even though his tone is playful, I know he really wants me to dance with him.
"I don't think you said that quite right," I say. "But yes, it'd be an honor to dance with you." He offers me his other hand and I take it, willingly.
"Ah, I feel like I'm the luckiest man on this planet!" Harry sighs melodramatically. I roll my eyes.
"Looks like her overacting is contagious." I tell him, as we take our positions on the dance floor. Harry's hands wrap around my waist, and he pulls me closer toward him. My breathing escalates, and I can feel myself being enveloped in the spell of Mr. Styles. A spell that can get me into so much trouble. The song sounds like something right out of a Cinderella movie; face paced, yet romantically slow. Our bodies are in sync, as we sway to the music; languidly. As the song picks up the beat, so do we. Our movements get faster and more energized. I'm looking at anything and anyone, other than Harry because I can't afford to look into his eyes. Because if I do, God help me but I won't be able to resist him.
"Not making eye contact won't help one bit." Harry whispers, reading my mind.
"Oh, trust me it isn't." I murmur, as he picks me up and spins me around. My face breaks out into a grin, and I place my hands on his shoulders. After another second or so, Harry lowers me and twirls me. Being with him always makes me feel like a princess, especially today. Suddenly, reality comes crashing down on me. What am I doing? Digging myself a deeper hole and then plunging myself into it. Aren't I deep enough? Can't I already see that I have no means of escape? My movements slow, until I completely stop; pulled out of Harry's spell. He frowns.
"What happened?" Harry asks, as I take a step back. I bump into the couple who's dancing behind me and murmur an apology, as I run off the dance floor and out of the marquee. I keep running, out across the garden and toward the water. The first thing I noticed when Gemma parked the car was that there's a river in front of Keisha's house. It's lovely, actually. I mean, how calming it must be to wake up every morning and be faced with a river? I rush over to it, and seat myself onto it's bank. My inner diva is screaming at me to get the fuck off the grass, as it'll spoil the dress. However, the broken part of me - 99.9% of me - tells her to shut the fuck up. I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. How screwed up am I? I'm harming myself, and enjoying it.