" Your task is to -" there was a pause. " Kill him" She stopped breathing, her skin went pale and her throat was suddenly dry. She clenched her fist under the table, her body slightly shaking in front of him. She couldn't hear anything, it was like...
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" You can't decline a dance "
trigger warning.
SEPTEMBER 28TH 1995
His eyes met her as she came down the stairs ever so elegantly, his breathing becoming uneven. He felt nauseous, faint almost. She placed her hand on top of his in an attempt to calm him down, she vaguely shifted her arm a bit lifting his chin. "Please calm down... I promise it's okay.." He did a small nod his eyes finally meeting hers, he always felt sick during public events. He did a small — but sharp exhale, holding his head high as they both walked inside.
Her dress billowing from behind her, she felt goosebumps as she entered. The cold air hitting her face.
The Manor was always cold, dark gloomy - but the ballroom was always the coldest. It creeped her out in a way, someone could be hiding behind the doors at any moment. The room was big, anyone could hide in there and no one would know. Ellse turned her head slightly seeing the people who were sitting in chairs staring at her, most of them were men. Old. Filthy. Men.
Pigs.
Her dress wasn't revealing. Why were they staring? all the other women in the ballroom had nice dresses on, not revealing as well.
Ellse heard whispers among the crowd,
" Wearing that dress to a ball? Attention whore" she heard someone sneer. Her lip curled slightly, her eyes dragging down to the floor. She swallowed thickly keeping her eyes to the ground, but quickly correcting herself and looking up.
" Such a slut" one of the women in the back of the room. It was supposed to come out in a whisper Ellse assumed. Maybe it wasn't, maybe - just maybe the woman said it on purpose, to anger her perhaps?
The woman's name was Mary Bethheart she always had it out for the Malfoy's. Trying to get revenge for her husband. He was killed by Ellse's father. They got into an argument, it surely didn't end well.
An illusion this all was or perhaps she wished it was an illusion. An illusion where we wasn't being stared at by everyone.
Guilt filled her body, she felt wobbly. As if she wouldn't stand.
