His Connoisseur

Pondering

Dancing and twirling around under the twilight, the scent of bittersweet crimson wine lingers the air. Both of their feet were in sync with their hand movements, the man's slender fingers touched a soft timid hand wrapped in white silky gloves.

People chattering and giggling, standing with their heels high on the marble floors, jazzy mellow orchestra playing in the background, with exquisite chandeliers hanging on the ceiling, it was a beautiful night. The young man's noiseless padded feet accidentally slipped on the smooth flooring, but a hand quickly grabbed hold of his waist.

Flashing a sincere yet polite smile on his face, he nodded, signalling that they should continue. The other regained his balance, returned him a bashful smile, and they started dancing to the music again, but the latter was still mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

Masked in a silvery mask embedded with a simple red ruby and some other gems that weren't that worthy of mention, complimented with a black blazer and a neat white blouse underneath, black pants matching the coat crotching to the ends of his legs,

he was beyond breathtaking.

Those thin rose-coloured lips and the elegance slope of nose were the only features that weren't hidden from the face. Although he couldn't see those black pupils clearly, they must be directed straight to the inner depths of his soul as his heart started to beat faster every second they were together.

Being born with a poor eyesight, the spellbound one had encountered multiple times where he bumped into people he never met on art exhibitions, falling down onto the ground; but absolutely nobody ever lent him a helping hand. And so, he was used to taking care of himself on those particular times.

He, of course was an art enthusiast, participated in every art gallery conventions; the crowded ones, where people would discuss the prices and some demanding for cheaper ones if they cost too much of a fortune, but he never considered painting before. His hands weren't skillful enough to create one, that's what he thought. Or perhaps because his eyesight wasn't that good, he gave up on trying.

In addition, he was a prince. A prince would spend his time managing and helping the royals handling kingdom affairs, not playing and mixing ablaze colours.

He had never seen this person before in his entire life of living. How come such a gorgeous man like him had time to attend a ball and not admire his lovely reflection on the mirror for days?

Who in the world is he?