His New Possession ✔️

32- Our One Night

Up above is the song I was listening to whilst writing this x)

Hazel POV:

His hand. My hand. His eyes. My eyes. His breath. My breath. His heart. My heart.

He intertwined our fingers together, and the music began. I think I missed the beginning, since he slid to the side a bit before I did. I was too carried away at inspecting his face, until he smirked, of course.

I woke up, remembering I actually had to dance.

And so I caught up, missing a few steps to come and match his. Right foot, left foot.
Our chests stiffly swayed from side to side, and our feet glided along the smooth marble flooring.

I forgot the world surrounding us, focusing on my handsome dance partner.
My eyes searched his vivid green emeralds, finding small sparkles hidden under the lipid layer of his eyes.

"Beautiful," he whispered, catching my attention.

I didn't need to respond, well, at least I didn't feel like I needed too.
The music played along as we elegantly moved across the ball room. For some reason, I started to feel everyone's eyes on us, and hear everyone's whispers and breaths.

"You okay?" He frowned as he lifted his arm up and spun me around.
"Everyone's watching us, I'm not used to it."
He smiled. "They're admiring you."

And we kept dancing, my dress flew around each time he spun me.
I never took my eyes off of him, not even once. I gazed at him as my feet did what they were supposed to do: dance.

It felt magical, beautiful, romantic. Of course, we were moving faster and faster, and sure, I was scared to not mix up, but overall, I felt confident, and even more than that, I felt in love.

Never had I looked at someone the way I was staring right at him, and never had I wished I wanted someone to kiss me. The urge of jumping on him and telling him my feelings was unbearable, but I controlled myself. I controlled my spiraling emotions because of the crowd in front of us. And again, we were dancing along with eight other couples.

But those eyes, those mysterious, yet beautiful eyes were just so joyful. I wanted to stop dancing and feel his lips on mine, but I didn't want it to be fake. I didn't want my first true kiss to be forced because of a fake identity we created for ourselves. No, I wanted it to be because he loved me, and because I loved him back.

Without even realizing it, the music had stopped playing, and we had stopped moving. I was centimeters away from the ground, and he was holding me in his arms.
We stared into each other's eyes, both wondering what lies beneath them.

Ever so calmly, he leaned down, slightly pulling me up to come meet his nose. His emerald eyes were only millimeters away from my blue ones, and I could feel his warm breath on my lips.

He stayed there, shifting his gaze to no longer stare into my eyes, but at my lips. I couldn't imagine what it felt like for him, so I closed the small space between us, slowly colliding our lips together.

It was a short kiss, but it was amazing. I could almost feel my heart melt as his hand gently cupped one side of my head, the other one pulling me back up on my feet.
My hand followed up, positioning itself over his one.

Making soothing circular motions with his thumb, he spoke to me in a gentle whisper. "I want you."

My breathing stopped, was this an act? Or was he being honest?
Whatever game he was or wasn't playing, I joined in, "Me too."