Manic [h.s]

#005

"Taking it all for us, all

Doing it all for love"

All For Us | Labrinth, Zendaya

December 20, 1998

IRIS XANDER

The soles of our shoes echo on the polished tiles as we step into the grand foyer of the mansion. Vintage portraits adorn the walls, their subjects staring down at us. Soft ambient light emanates from lamps, casting a warm glow on the interior.

It didn't take us long to sneak in like a quiet mouse. We had to hand over the stolen invitation card to the security guards at the entrance to permit getting inside, acting all innocent and shit, pretending we were just some random couple named "Anderson" as mentioned in the card. The guards didn't suspect a single thing. Good for us. The card belonged to the woman who trusted me to fix her dress who never ended up picking it up from the store. After all, who needs a fancy dress when you can't even find your invitation?

Upon reaching the end of the corridor, I casually reach for the front of my thighs, feeling the gun nestled beneath the fabric of my dress. It was a pain in the ass to put it in there and if shit hits the ceiling, it'll take me ages to pull it out. But it's still better to have it for good measure right?

The distinct chatter of people reaches my ears as we continue walking. Taking a final left turn, my eyes widen at the sight.

The interior is like a ballroom straight out of a fairy tale. The pristine white tiled floor shines like it's been polished and waxed every hour. Tall pillars stand majestically, holding up the grand structure.

Round tables are placed around the room and there's a slow music playing in the background with a few pairs of couples twirling around on the dance floor, lost in their own little world. And here we are, two nobodies who shouldn't even have the means to get into a luxurious event like this. All we can do is stand here like a couple of idiots, taking in our surroundings.

Sucking in a breath, Niall casually wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him as if we do this every day. "What the fuck are you doing?" I whisper as he leads us into the crowd.

"Isn't this what married people usually do? We're married according to that invitation, remember?" he whispers back.

"Right," I mutter, scanning the dimly lit room. "We're not sticking out like a sore thumb, are we?" I ask, noticing the elegant clothes worn by everyone else.

"Well, I wouldn't have agreed to this shit if I knew I'd be dressed up like a fucking clown," he groans.

"Oh, really now? You look like Prince Charming and I hope Cinderella won't whisk your ass away from the party tonight, 'cause we've got some shit to do," I say mockingly, earning a grunt from him in response. He's donning a formal shirt and trousers and I have to admit, it does look a bit weird since I've never seen him being all serious. But nevertheless, he still looks good.

And then there's me. I'm wearing a black dress that stops at my mid-thigh. It's off-shoulder with puffy net sleeves that reach down to my wrists, showcasing a few of my tattoos. I've gone through the trouble of hiding the few of my strands of red highlights in my hair, tying it up. To complete the look, I've put on a pair of black heels, though I won't lie—I'm having a bit of trouble walking in them. I never wear dresses, for fuck's sake.

Eventually Niall slows down, turning to face me. "Stay here. I'll go scope out the place and make sure everything is clear," he says and I give him a nod. "And seriously, try not to get into any trouble."