Another way (Young Royals)

The Valentine Bal

Simon used a sponge to paint my skin with a white colour. My wig was hideous and it hurt to have it on. My ancestors wore this all the time. I was thankful I was not them. One night I could stand it, but not more.

"Your ancestors were weird people, baby," Simon commented. "How did they want to look like this?" I giggled.

"Well they did not know a fuck about hygiene so this was instead of washing up I think," I replied.

"Thank God for the invention of the shower," Simon replied with a laugh. I laughed too, but Simon asked me to not wrinkle my face as he applied the paint.

"So you don't want me to paint you a little too then, pretty?" I asked him.

"Looking like a ghost is not my thing. Sorry babe," he said. "But I must say you make a very cute one. Especially with that wig with long hair." Simon had agreed to wear some traditional clothes at least. But he refused to have a wig on. And he would not get the white makeup even close to his face. My phone buzzed and I looked at the display. It was Erik. I picked up and turned the camera to my face.

"Hi Erik," I said.

"Hi Wille," Erik said. "How are the preparations for the bal going?"

"As you see, your little brother looks like a ghost now," Simon said and looked into the camera.

"You take good care of him, I see," Erik replied laughing. "Is the wig hurting yet?"

"It hurt before I put it on, I think," I replied. That made Erik laugh even harder.

"Well I hope you have fun anyways," Erik said.

"Thank you, Erik," Simon and I replied. We hung up and went on with the preparations. I had put up candles and had roses in a vase on my desk to make my room a bit more cosy for the occasion. Simon would stay in my dorm that night, so maybe we would get some use for the romantic decorating later that night as well. I blew out the candles before we went down to the bal. The dance floor was already crowded with our school mates. Simon pulled me out on the dance floor. We danced and smiled at each other. The music was loud. There were people everywhere. If I did not know what year it was, I would have thought that I had gone into a time machine a few hundred years back. They were all dressed in old clothes and wigs that the nobility and royals used to wear. All painted white, like I was myself. Except for Felice. She wore her natural hair and had not painted herself lighter. It was Felice and Simon who had refused the makeup and the wigs. A good decision, I could already tell. The wig made my head hurt and the party had just started.

"Look at my pretty brother and his boyfriend right here," Sara commented when she came up to us. She hugged Simon tightly.

"You are so beautiful, Sara. Doesn't that wig hurt though?" Simon replied. Sara nodded. I saw Stella and Fredrika pour something from a bottle into their drinks. It was no doubt alcohol. They were always so gentle and touchy with each other. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed they were girlfriends. I had seen them make out countless times at parties, but apparently that was common for friends to just do. I had never done that. I had only ever kissed Simon, and he was my boyfriend. I had always been too shy to approach anyone before. I felt comfortable then and there though. People knew I dated Simon and they did not look twice if we kissed a little. Stella and Fredrika joined the group a little more.

"So have you found out who sent you the love letter yet, Fredrika?" I asked. She shook her head.

"But I don't need to ask you two who you wrote for," she said and looked at me and Simon. Our intertwined hands.

"Aren't you curious to know who wrote it for you though?" Simon kept asking her. She nodded. Of course she wanted to know. I would have wanted to know. Stella was unusually quiet. If it was Felice or Sara who had gotten a letter from a secret admirer, she would have been the first to gossip about it, I was pretty sure. What if Stella was the secret admirer? Maybe that was why she did not say anything about it. We kept on dancing together and I let the thought of Stella and Fredrika go. It was none of my business anyways.

"I feel a bit warm, Simon. Can we go to the side for a while?" I asked in Simon's ear. He smiled and nodded at me. Then he pulled me through the crowd of people. We did not stop going until we got out of there. Some fresh air could be needed after dancing on a hot dancefloor. There were other people outside as well. Some had gotten a bit too much alcohol in their system and others were a bit too warm, like Simon and I. We went down the stairs and stopped there. We looked into each other's eyes. Smiled. Then we let our lips meet. I held him close to me. Did not ever want to let go of him.

"I am so in love with you," I said between our kisses. I felt him smile against my lips. Felt his hands on my chest and around my neck.

"I am in love with you too, Wille," he replied. When we separated to look at each other, I saw that he had white paint on his face and a little bit in his dark curly hair.

"You got some paint in your face at last," I said. He giggled.

"Well then no one has to ask what we did out here then," Simon said. Then he leaned in to kiss me another time. He apparently wanted to have even more of my face paint on his face. Or he just wanted to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him. He was so sweet.