enemies to lovers one shots

dancing

Her fingers were covered in long, pearlescent, silk gloves. Her hair was curled and pinned, her body fit into an elegant red gown.

Blood red.

Perfect for tonight. What better way to cover the stain of blood from her clothes than a dress made of the same rich color?

She entered the large ballroom, smiling and nodding like the average noblewoman. Her eyes flitted across the faces of men and women dressed in their finest suits and gowns, searching for the face that matched the photograph she'd been given.

Wild black hair.

Emerald green eyes.

And a devilish smirk.

Tonight, he would be her victim.

And she'd wake up the next morning hundreds of thousands richer.

Her gloved fingers brushed against the place where her trusty dagger lay strapped to her leg. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the sharp pin that pulled her hair up into an elegant bun.

She swept through all the other hidden positions where her blades lay, anticipation pouring through her nerves.

Her eyes finally landed on a handsome man standing near a group of chattering people. He was silent though, his glinting eyes already looking at her.

His hair was slightly gelled, but the smirk on his face was unmistakable. It was him.

She smiled back flirtatiously, picking up the front of her gown like a well-trained noblewoman, and strode towards him confidently.

It seemed tonight she would get to have some fun.

The man stepped towards her to meet her where the dancing area was, seeming to understand the intentions of her smile.

The poor man... he had no idea what was coming his way.

"Hello," he said, his deep voice a mixture of rugged and elegant, "Would you care to dance?"

"Of course," she said, her voice sweet.

She took his hand and he guided her towards an open space. Pulling her closer, he ran his hands down her shoulders and placed them around her waist, his large hands almost wrapping her petite frame completely.

She fought the shiver that ran down her body and pressed herself closer to him. "The music is quite lovely, isn't it?" she asked, making simple conversation.

He hummed, and she felt the sound reverberate through his chest. They switched positions, one of his hands wrapping around hers, held in the air, while the other rested at her waist.

The music's tempo increased, and they moved in perfect synchronization - forwards, backward, left, right, through a spin, a dip... and so on.

"Having fun?" he asked, his eyes closing with a mischievous grin.

She gave a happy yes immediately, getting lost in the music and the feeling of their bodies pressed together, before remembering her job.

She leaned closer to his ear, trying to seduce him, "Why don't we go somewhere... more private?"

The grin turned wild, and his eyes opened to shining emerald irises.

They looked impossibly perfect.

She felt his hot breath fan her face as he leaned in, spinning her quickly before bringing her back into his arms - close and tight.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me, darling," he whispered. He dipped her, his fingers grazing the dagger on her thigh before returning to her waist and squeezing softly.

She refrained from gasping, but her mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. This wasn't a normal job then... he was more than just aware of the reasons for her presence, he was prepared.

Who was this man?

She recovered quickly, smiling wickedly, "We'll see... now, shall we?"

He nodded and they stepped off the dance floor, her elbow linked with his so naturally. They kept up the facade until they'd gone through the doors and into an empty hallway.

The second the door shut, she leaped towards him, her fingers pulling the pin out of her hair, letting the long, wild curls escape, and held the blade to his throat.

The smile didn't leave his face even as her hand gripped his head and she pressed the knife at his throat.

She could have sliced his head off within a second, but she was curious.

That and she'd felt the press of something sharp at her stomach. She didn't need to look down to know there was a knife pressed to her.

"I have to admit, you look much better without the bun," he said, his free hand running softly through the tangled curls.

She scowled, ignoring the way his hand felt pressed on her head.

"Who are you?" she asked, breaking the number one rule there was on her jobs.

Don't ask questions.

He ignored her. "Such a pretty little face," he said, running a calloused thumb down her cheek, "And a marvelous dancer as well."

He shook his head, faking sadness, "It'll be a shame get rid of you."

Had he been sent here for her?

And her for him?

How was that possible? Her boss, Geben, ran the only assassin trade in the entire city. No one else could have heard of her, much less sent to kill her.

Theories ran through her mind as she analyzed the man in front of her, not anything like anyone else she had ever killed.

Something was amiss.

"Who sent you?" she asked, "Was it Geben?"

A look of surprise and recognition flitted across his face, the first time tonight she had seen his expression differ from anything other than mischievousness.

She laughed aloud at the conspiracy she had just uncovered, "The bastard tried to play us... he sent us here to kill each other."

The man still looked confused, "You... you work for Geben?"

She nodded, "I guess he was trying to kill two birds with one stone,"

The man's grin returned, and he stepped back, removing the dagger from her stomach. He bowed slightly, "Well then... my apologies, darling, for trying to kill you and all. It seems I was after the wrong target. I should be murdering the old man with the idiot brain."

She twirled the pin throughout her fingers, an evil sort of grin that mirrored his grew on her face, "Need any help with that?"