They weaved in between the crowd. Their dance wasn't elegant or extravagant or anything eye-catching; it was something simple, and yet everyone's eyes were still on them.
"So how long have you been doing this little project of yours?"
She changed her footwork, speeding up slightly, causing him to spin around in order to get the proper pace.
"Little? I wouldn't call it that, and I started it after the day I moved into our house."
He forced himself to glare at her, spinning her around so she couldn't see whatever face he was making when she said that.
"Don't you mean my house?"
The music changed, turning slower, so they had to change once more to match the pace.
"Sure, let's say that, but that's besides the point. I want you to be one of the faces for it, for obvious reasons."
She smiled at him—the smile that made him question why he wasn't… He shook his head and spoke.
"I'd say Soul Reaper Jet would be a better pick than me. As you can tell, my reputation isn't the most… favorable for something like this."
In that lapse of hesitation while he was speaking, she took the lead. It was honestly embarrassing, to say the least. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes as she twirled him around, a slight blush appearing on his face from shame.
"I don't care about your reputation, nor do I care who's more favorable. In all honesty, I did this for you and nobody else—not Valor, not the people in this hall, or even those in the outskirts. Everything that happened today and will happen after today will be for you."
An indescribable guilt washed over him. Just why wasn't his heart beating for her? Everything she had done should have made him head over heels, and yet his heart remained steady. He's heard people describe their heart as rotten—is this what they mean?
"Don't think about whatever you're thinking about."
Morgan took her hand off his shoulder and lifted his head up, locking eyes with him.
"Focus on me, and me alone."
His eyes widened slightly. The dim lights made the glow of the gems in the chandelier grow brighter. When the light of those gems hit her, she looked almost ethereal. That sight burned into his memories before burning into his heart.
He settled his hand on her hip and intertwined his fingers with hers, holding their hands slightly above her shoulder.
"I'll take the lead this time."
And so, the dance went on.
He doesn't know how long their rhythm lasted. It could have been minutes or hours. In that moment, he went to a third world—a world with only him and Morgan.
He could say she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. After all, he was the most honest man in three worlds now.
As the music slowed and the lights began to brighten, the world they were in was stored somewhere deep inside his heart, waiting to be brought out once more—and many more times in the future. Five months was their bet.
He had almost forgotten about it entirely. This entire thing would end sooner rather than later. For some reason, that thought made his stomach sink.
As the music ended and the chatter began once more, the two of them found themselves at a table. Due to most of everybody here being awakened, a lot of alcohol was distributed. That's why he wasn't surprised to see a table full of glasses.
He took one, swirling it around before taking a sip. Why did he do it? Well, because everyone else was, so why not?
The rest of the cohort was spread across the hall. Effie seemed to be eating enough for three, as usual. Kai and Aiko looked cute chatting in the corner, and Cassie was… wait, where was Cassie? He turned around only to see her talking with Tyris. Since when was she here? He didn't take her as the type to be at a place like this in general.
He turned back around, focusing on the glass in his hand and taking another sip. Staring into the glass, he couldn't help but think the vermilion color reminded him of the woman standing next to him. He shook his head once more, clearing his thoughts, before downing the glass and immediately grabbing another.
There was a peaceful silence between them. Minutes passed, and the glasses piled up. Suddenly, two men stood at the opposite end of the table they were at. He assumed they would come greet Morgan, but they must not have known it was them, as their backs were turned.
"It's all so ludicrous! To even propose something so vast over those scantily pests."
A booming laugh came from the man next to him. He was already gripping his glass slightly tighter.
"Let me tell you this! Those outskirt rats are good for one thing, and that's for giving it up!"
His entire body tensed. A small crack appeared in the glass he was holding, yet he held it in. This was Morgan's big day, and a big event that could end up getting help for the outskirts.
"The best part about it is you don't even have to ask! You just do—as young as you want, too! It's not like they'll have anybody to tell!"
Ah, this really sucked. He would have to apologize to Morgan later.
The next moment, he found himself jumping over the table and slamming his fist into the back of the man's head.
Chaos erupted as he began to send relentless blows into the man's face. The young man he was talking to tried to pull him off, but was met with a fist slammed into his groin.
A crowd gathered around. Whatever they were saying fell on deaf ears.
It wasn't unusual for kids to go missing in the outskirts. He always assumed it was simply starvation or murder.
But he was a fool who underestimated the depths of the darkest parts of humanity.
Two slender arms slid under his, pulling him back. He looked back, expecting Morgan, only to see Cassie.
Everything was dizzy. It was probably because he was letting himself get drunk all while he was attacking the man.
It was called liquid courage for a reason, after all… though he would have done it either way, even if he wasn't drunk.
Suddenly, his world faded—and faded back in moments later. He jumped up, hitting his head on the roof of something. The world was dark… had he lost his eyes?
Oh… they were just closed.
He opened them, seeing the interior of the limo once more. He looked to his left and saw Morgan staring out the window.
Waves of memories hit him—memories of Morgan helping him walk to the limo as they left the ball early, leaving the mess he caused to be cleaned up by others. He was sick to his stomach, partly because he was still drunk, but also because of the guilt he was feeling.
"I'm sorry…"
She turned her head toward him. He didn't want to look at her face. He couldn't bring himself to.
Suddenly, he felt a grasp of gloved hands on his chin, lifting his head up to look at her. He clenched his eyes shut. He couldn't bring himself to open them.
"Thank you."
His eyes shot open in shock, and then he saw it—the smile he'd been seeing all day. A smile meant just for him.
"If you didn't do what you did, I was about to step in and do much worse than what you did. Sadly, that man was from Valor, but that also means, luckily, we can dig into more of those disgusting activities that are possibly taking place. So thank you—not only for saving face for me, but also for helping me do something I've been meaning to do for a while."
His world spun once more, yet only one thing remained still: Morgan. Even when the entire world around her was spinning for him, she was the only thing that stayed still… and in that moment, it appeared as if she were a beautiful rose in a vast amount of shadows.
He knew very well that roses had thorns. It was something everyone knew.
That's why it shocked him when he found himself placing his lips on hers.
His vision faded once more before appearing again moments later. Only this time, when it came back, he found himself pinned under Morgan, their tongues tangled together. They were still in the back of the limo. How much time had passed?
He was dragged out of his thoughts when Morgan's tongue latched off his before she pulled back. Before he could speak, she moved her lips, trailing small kisses along his neck. He had to hold back his voice. His entire body was extremely sensitive for some reason.
Even the slightest touch made him want to let out a sound. Sadly for him, that voice couldn't be held in when he felt a grip on his lower regions, which were luckily still covered by pants.
She craned her neck up, not before licking a trail over his neck all the way up to his jaw. He saw a smile he'd never seen before on her face. It wasn't the ethereal one she gave solely to him or the confident one she gave to everyone. It was like he was seeing a nightmare creature in human flesh.
"You… You really are a creep, you know that?"
His voice came out softer than he thought it would. He truly was embarrassed to be put in this position.
"It doesn't seem you mind that, though. Now does it?"
Her hand drifted to the zipper of his pants before his hand gripped onto her wrist. He used his free hand to cover his face in order to hide the redness spreading all over it.
"Nothing under the belt… yet…"
He let go, and her hand trailed back up to his face. He should probably sit up; laying down on these limo chairs was quite uncomfortable.
Midway through his attempt to get up, her head slammed down before slipping underneath his shirt. His suit jacket was who knows where. As he was about to scoot back, he felt a wet sensation lapping around a certain part of his chest.
He fell off the seats, leaving only Morgan on them while he was sprawled on the floor, his face as red as her lipstick—which was also stained all over his body.
With that nightmarish smile once more, she opened the window that led to the front of the limo before calling out to the driver.
"One more time around the city, please!"
With those words, she shut the window once more and stared down at him.
He really shouldn't have gone to that ball.