Violet

1| the note

They say to follow your dreams.

Here I stand, my feet positioned forward, my eyes darting across the room and catch a curtain, hung about six meters high. I let my eyes travel down to where the end of the bundle of fabric lay sprawled out on the ballroom floor. A mid-1800s hall is not where I thought I would see myself in the last week. Young women in vibrant coloured Victorian gowns, pink, green, yellow, and blue all float around in front of me. Dancing. Young men in tuxes, ties and tails accompany these sirens, guiding their hands in a waltz, while a rhythmic song fills the room.

As for me, layers upon layers cover me. Even so, the cool zephyr makes its way to where I stand, and a couple of windows are open. The corset crushes each of my ribs so tight, reminding me of its presence with every breath that I take. Next is a thin underdress that I thought completed the outfit until I was fitted with a gorgeous bright red ballgown. I see only a few from where I stand.

Where is he? 

My eyes sift through the faces in the crowd in search of the one I must meet. He is around half an hour late by now. Were we not meant to meet next to the giant platter of fish that is now infiltrating my nose? Perhaps he is too afraid. Perhaps he has changed his mind and has left. The thought of this floods me with disquiet. 

I do not wish to be here by myself, I think, however, I do have a chance to leave until midnight also.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

In the silence I have been accompanying, my ears are shocked to hear a voice. Eyes are what I first notice in a person and mine are met with those of brilliant emerald green. A man, a foot taller than I stands with a fixed gaze and arm outstretched. Smiling, he bows. "Would you care to dance?"

Dreaded heat draws to my face at once. Dancing has never been a talent of mine, except everyone in the room makes it look easy and since I have been watching for quite a while...

"Of course," I say cautiously, taking an uncertain hold of his hand. The young man nods his head and leads me onto the floor of dancers. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to not step on any shoes. At last, through the twirling of dresses, we come to a stop in the middle of the ballroom. 

My left hand is still in his right; he smiles as his other hand slips around my waist. The motion causes me to hesitate and flinch, so I pull away, only to realise the stupidity of my actions when a wave of confusion crosses his face, the smile dropping.

I let him grab my waist.

Luckily, we start slowing with him guiding me in a way that I can keep up. This gives me a chance to have a closer look at him. Icy white curls frame his heart-shaped face. His complexion is as pale as a sheet of paper, also resembling a fairy; up turned nose, ears, and eyes – piercing emerald eyes. I must say he is very handsome, however, I do not recognise him, so he must not be the one I am looking for. Moments later, I look up to see his porcelain face transforming into a wince. 

I have stepped on his shoe.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" I splutter out, more heat racing to my cheeks. 

"Do not worry about it, it happens all the time." 

I let out a little laugh. "Right." No one speaks in a while and eye contact I cannot keep, although he has maintained a fixed focus on me.

"I must say," he eventually says, "Your hair is the most interesting of that I have seen tonight. " 

Swallowing, I give myself more time before answering, this is all too new for me. I make sure to keep a poised expression. "Really? I mean, it's too short to put up like the many others here."