Mira
I was having a blast.
Apparently, attending masquerade balls with a hot date, a hot girlfriend and a hot date of the girlfriend was my thing. Of course, the hot friends of my hot date were an icing on the cake.
The evening couldn't get better.
"Mira, did you try these sherbet lemons?" Renee extended one towards me, her eyes shining with laughter. "They are so amazing, they just melt in your mouf." She slurred.
I rose an amused eyebrow at her boyfriend Ash who had spent the whole evening stalking behind us, afraid that some lowlife would try to make a move on his beautiful girlfriend who was dressed especially nice tonight. I shot Dylan a mild look of annoyance, to which he responded with a signature silly smirk of his. Although my boyfriend was no different than him, I could not blame Ash for being so protective. Renee was looking stunning tonight. Her hair was surprisingly a natural brown shade and was left open in loose waves that framed her face.
The red dress was doing wonders for her slim body. She looked girly, way more approachable than she usually come off as. It was as if her overall personality had been softened up a little. And the fact that she was already more than a little drunk, didn't help her situation with Ash either.
"Stop it," I whacked away Dylan's hand that was trying to sneak into my hair. The whole evening, he had followed me around, trying to get me to let down my hair.
He said it looked better that way.
But I knew he wanted me to cover myself up.
Boys and their pointless jealousy.
"But why?" He whined. "It looks be-"
I pressed my finger to his lip, eyeing him fixedly. "No. It. Does. Not." I said slowly, as if trying to convince an elementary school kid. "Stop trying to mess with my hair unless you want me to go around looking like an ostrich danced in my hair."
"Yes, that'd be much better. You'd look cute that way." He replied. "You looking hot is too much work."
"Uh huh." I gave him a deadpan look. "That totally makes sense because I asked you to work so hard trying to obscure my view and others' as well." I retorted sarcastically.
Honestly, I was kind of enjoying having someone fuss over me all the time but of course, I wasn't going to tell him that.
"No, you didn't." Dylan admitted. "Actually on second thoughts, you looking cute also would be too much of a hassle." He looked pained at the realisation. "Guess I have no option but to continue following you around." He shrugged.
I shrugged in response as well. "Do as you wish." I steered away from him and spotting Rebecca, headed over to her. Dylan followed, much to my satisfaction and annoyance.
"If I were you, I'd prefer to keep my hair down." He shouted from behind, trying to catch up.
Tongue-in-cheek, I replied. "It wouldn't go with the dress."
How superficial.
I picked up my pace. Rebecca was less than a hundred meters away.
"I'd still prefer-"
I turned around to look at him as he made his way through the dancing couples.
"No."
"But-" He was almost catching up.
I broke into laughter as he tried to grab my arm. "No." I barely managed to twist out of his reach and ran.
Oh, this was so much fun. Keeping Dylan on his toes was fast becoming my most favourite thing to do next to spending time with him. It was just as cheesy as it was romantic but I wasn't going to change my ways anytime soon.
"Oh, look who that is." I saw Rebecca beckoning Dylan who was behind me. Grinning wildly, I threw Dylan a sassy wink before coming to stand behind Rebecca who was accompanied by a man, probably the same age as Dylan's father. I assumed he was one of their close friends because Dylan too rushed to greet the man.
"Mr. Simpson?" Dylan popped his head from behind me and I jumped. His hand rested on my waist suggestively for a split second before he moved forward to greet the said Mr. Simpson. I chose to keep myself at a respectable distance from the company. I had had enough introductions to last me a lifetime and my heart was near exploding from the number of times I'd heard 'Dylan's girlfriend'. I wasn't sure my heart could bear yet another explosion of happiness.
"What a surprise!" He exclaimed happily as they embraced. "I thought you were in Italy."
I stole a look at the man's face. He didn't look much like an Italian, if Dylan's and Rebecca's faces told anything. He looked like an American, more Latin American even if his tan skin and accent were to be believed. Mr. Simpson, it seemed, was a pleasant fellow with a gummy smile and a bit of a beer belly. It was quite obvious that Dylan's father had maintained himself much better. Yet, I could see why Mr. Scott saw Mr. Simpson as one of his closest friends. Mr. Simpson, as Rebecca told me, was the owner of one of the biggest businesses in America and was currently expanding in Italy to strengthen his bonds with the Scott and Morgan Industries, a joint conglomerate of Mr. Scott and Rebecca's parents.
If he had any ulterior motives to come to the party, he wasn't letting it show as he laughed while hugging Dylan.
"I know. I know, young man." He beamed. "It's been two years since I last saw you. I've been pestering Rafael to arrange a family gathering but he's a busy man and why not? He's been very busy raising a good businessman and a heir." He clapped Dylan's back proudly.
"It's been a smooth journey so far." Rebecca said. "Except for a few hicks here and there, Dylan's been doing pretty well at the company office in the past one year. We even thought of sending him over to Italy. He could have studied and trained there under your and my parents' guidance but we changed our minds since he was already doing so well here." Rebecca looked at her son, pride shining in her eyes as Dylan smiled modestly.
"Oh, talking about Italy, where's Gisele? Wasn't she studying Filmmaking and Design in London?" Rebecca asked and my breath slowed. Was this the same Gisele Renee had told me about?
"Oh yes. She must be around here somewhere." Mr. Simpson looked around, his glass of champagne lying untouched on the table behind. "Her flight landed a couple of hours ago. Had a terrible jet lag but insisted I take her along. Apparently, she was too eager to meet your handsome son right here." He threw a knowing look in Dylan's direction who looked extremely surprised.
Rebecca burst out laughing. "Oh well, too bad my handsome son's already been spoken for."
Dylan nodded. "I didn't know Gisele thought of me like that." He laughed awkwardly. Taking my arm he pulled me closer from where I'd been hiding behind Rebecca and smiled. "I'm taken." He shrugged. "This is my girlfriend Mira." He put a comforting hand around my shoulders. "If you ask me, I'm most likely going to end up married to her and honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way."
I looked up in shock to find Dylan smiling genuinely. Rebecca looked just as surprised as Mr. Simpson but then, grinned. "I didn't know things were this serious." She teased but Dylan smirked. His grip on my shoulder tightened reassuringly. "I didn't either."
_______________
"He what?!" Rebecca looked at me wide-eyed, as she shoved her wine glass into Ash's unsuspecting hands. Behind us, Chase, Dennis and Jayden snickered as they clapped each other's backs. Dylan had finally drifted into the crowd with his father. I was pretty sure, with the permanent smile stuck to his face all evening, his mouth would hurt tomorrow morning.
"Yes, he said that." I nodded, still not believing what he had said to Mr. Simpson. It was basically an indirect proposal of sorts. I shuddered inwardly. I did not deserve such happiness and love.
"I never thought Dylan had the balls to even ask her out." Chase commented. "And now he's going around throwing uninvited proposals in her face."
"Too fast, man. Way too fast." Dennis shook his head.
"We seriously need to up our game, guys. We're lagging behind." Jayden tried to keep a straight face but burst out laughing. "Seriously though, what was he even thinking? I mean no offence, Mira. You're one hell of a girl but the dude's literally eighteen."
I made a face. "It's not like he's really proposed."
"Well, if I was him, I wouldn't even be thinking about that right now." Chase piped in. "Actually, indirectly proposing to a girl in front of my mother would be the last thing on my mind." Chase said, faking a grim smile.
"Yeah, like no offence Mira. We love you, but the knucklehead's going way too fast. We don't want him hurrying now and winding up dead on the ground later." Dennis explained, concern lacing his laughter.
Renee's drunkenness seemed to have vanished completely as she eagerly clasped at my hands, scowling at the riotous laughs of the guys behind us.
"You need to say yes." She said.
"What?" I gave her look that said 'seriously stop, you're drunk'.
"Yeah." Renee nodded, ignoring my expressions. "Right now."
"Go." She urged, shoving my shoulder. "Now."
Pursing my lips, I cracked my neck to relieve my anxiety before nodding hesitantly. My nerves were a bundle of live electric wires ever since Dylan had made his not so discreet profession.
As I rounded about the centre sculpture, my ears picked up a lilting waltz number flowing in the hall. And as if it was my first time really looking at the art piece, my face reddened.
I turned away sharply from the masked couple dancing, bodies intertwined as the guy caught the girl amidst a lift and a sweep, the skirts of the girl's dress flying around like a halo.
One look at the couples beginning to move towards the ball told me that it was time.
Time to dance.
The staff began handing out masks to everyone. My eyes scanned the room for a sign of Dylan but he was nowhere to be seen.
The group of men-probably businessmen and other important executives whom he had been talking to less than fifteen minutes ago-had drifted away into the crowd and were emerging with women-beautiful, elegant women, each with the grace of a swan-on their arms, prepared to dance the night away, drowning into this bright night of merriment.
I couldn't help but smile as the memory of Dylan talking to those men surfaced in my mind. He had looked every bit the suave businessman in that moment. Yes, he was a little rough around the edges, immature at times and always a tad bit too narcissistic. But he was a responsible son and certainly a man with great potential to be a perfect heir to the grand empire of the Scott Industries.
A couple of months ago, Dylan wouldn't have hesitated a second saying it was his time to play but thinking of him now...he had certainly come a long, long way.
Smiling to myself, I gathered up the flowing skirts of my dress and was just about to walk when I noticed Chase, Dennis and Jayden behind me.
Cursing my heels and thus, my inability to really get away, I forced myself to face them again, swallowing the embarrassment.
"I don't see Dylan." Chase looked behind me. "And I see neither do you." He smiled mischievously. He held out his arm to me, much to Jayden and Dennis' amusement and grinned. "You'll find me to be as excellent a dance partner as can be...second to no one except perhaps Dylan himself." He added after some thought. I burst out laughing at his exaggeration and was joined by Dennis and Jayden.
"Don't listen to this asshole." Jayden cackled. "His dance is like a Monday. Nobody likes it."
Chase scowled. "Yeah, and what about you?" He smiled wickedly before leaning in to whisper in my ear. "He danced like there was an iron rod up his ass when he finally grew the balls to ask Michaela out at a party last Saturday."
I didn't know who Michaela was but I burst out giggling anyway.
"I'm not sure if I have ever been so envious of Chase in my whole life."
I jumped at Dylan's voice who came to stop behind me. He rested his face on my shoulder, as if enjoying its warmth. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to find yourself another partner, regardless of whether or not you dance well." He teased. "I don't really approve of you making my girl laugh like that. And if you don't mind," he added with a lopsided grin. "I'd like to have the first dance."
Chase-a little surprised at first-just like me, bowed pretentiously. "Of course, milord. Though, I'm afraid it's a choice the lady must make herself." He winked at me.
I laughed as Dylan gave him a look. But however charming Chase was being, I felt it was Dylan who deserved the dance first.
He was after all, my boyfriend...
And husband-to-be.
Deciding to play along, I shifted so as to put my arm around Dylan's. "Lord Chase, I hope you're not too disheartened when I say this, but do you not know that it's Lord Dylan whom I'll always choose first?"
"You hurt me deeply, milady." Chase lifted a hand to his heart, grimacing dramatically. "But it's your wish I can't go against." He said dejectedly.
Dylan playfully lunges at him as Chase drew away, snickering. "Don't sweat, mate. I'll find someone else to dance with."
"Shall we?" Dylan prompted.
I laughed again. "Of course."
My mask was olive green-a butterfly, the exact shade of my dress-adorned with beautiful silver and black sequins and feathers.
To my utter disbelief, Dylan's mask was a bright, glittery, rose gold, complete with metallic pink spirally decorations. I barely managed to keep myself from laughing my head off as he fished it out from his suit pocket.
"Valerie's choice," He shrugged, his expression painful.
I giggled. "You're such a sweetheart," I pinched his cheek.
His grimace deepened.
"Yeah, And that's exactly what I don't want to come across as." He pointed out, yet his hands worked swiftly to fasten the mask.
"Why?" I teased.
"You know, being a sweetheart won't help my chances with the hot chicks in my new office." He answered. His eyes twinkled with humour, his face just a devilish smirk behind the mask. "Besides you can't deny that even this kind of girly sh*t looks smoking hot on me."
I couldn't.
"I mean, come on, it's this we are talking about here." He pointed towards his face, lips stretched into a smug smile. "Obviously, everyone wants a piece of me." He breathed, leaning in.
I struggled to keep myself from fumbling when I pushed him back, half afraid he was going to pin me against some wall again and half mad that he had dared to mention some random hot chicks in front of me, even if he had just been kidding.
"Yeah, I'm sure chicks who like sweet heart cakes with glittery rose gold decoration, would love to have a piece." I smirked. "Too bad, I seem to have a thing for the bad boys...in suits." I eyed him with the sultriest expression I could muster and then pinched his cheek again, as if talking to an infant. "Let's go, Mr. Sweet Heart Cake."
Dylan
She was playing a treacherous game.
We both were.
It was dangerous, dangerous game...treading on the fine line between dirty flirtation and innocent love.
I was loving it.
I smiled to myself as we walked towards the ballroom, hand-in-hand.
She wanted me to be bad?
Oh, I was gonna be just that.
I was finally going to do what I did best.
Smile. Seduce. Score.
With Mira.
Pulling her against myself, one hand on her bare back and one clasping her hand, I swiftly manoeuvred her around.
She gasped, surprised.
I smirked. Little did she know, I was done just smiling.
Now, it was time to seduce.
Dancing swiftly, moving our bodies to the heady rhythm, I ensured there was no gap between us. Her hair on my cheeks, her chocolate eyes on me...my eyes on her bobbing throat, on her slightly trembling red lips-the lips of a femme fatale- I tilted and gently swayed her to the music, moulting my body with hers.
And suddenly, as if I couldn't bear to restrain myself anymore, especially with her treacherous gaze pulling me in, I leaned in and pressed my lips against her unsuspecting ones.
(A/N-Insert details) 😐 sorry
When we finally separated, she seemed to be completely out of breath. The heat of our kiss danced like the light in her eyes as her lips spread in lazy, shy grin.
Holy Sizzles, I...was done for.
I was reminded of how just a couple of minutes ago I had forcefully pushed off a very drunk Gisele off me.
"Back off. I'm taken." I had said.
The sudden rudeness to that now ex-friend did not seem too unnecessary after all.