The Pointe of Love || Elriel & Nessian

Chapter 4 - Altair and Vega

"Who did you say would be at this party again?" Nesta looked in the mirror toward Elain who was adjusting her pink. "And damn by the way... you're looking extra hot tonight."

She glanced over at Elain, her sister's pink dress flowing from her waist in an A-Line, sweeping just above her knees, the silken material billowing as she walked, the waist tight to her skin and the straps gathered in a trendy halter. She had her hair half pulled up, the curls tumbling across her shoulders, disguising the revealing open back of the dress.

Elain flushed, turning around to Nesta in a whirl, her eyes wide. "You don't think it's too much do you? I wanted to look good..."

"No, it's perfect." Nesta smiled encouragingly at Elain. She could joke a lot and sometimes give her sisters a hard time, but she also knew when they simply needed her to be encouraging. And this was one of those times.

"Feyre said that Rhysand was bringing some friends, and there will also be the friends and families of the other artists, and probably the art house curators and clients as well." Elain spoke absentmindedly, her hands smoothing out the fabric stretching across her tiny waist as she angled to get a view from the side in the mirror.

"Mmm.. my kind of crowd." Nesta purred, running the straightener through the pieces of hair near her forehead. "Eligible bachelors."

"You're all talk." Elain winked at Nesta. "All you care about is the next ballet performance."

"Perhaps. But if I'm to be a star, I need admirers in the audience." She winked back at Elain, smoothing down her hair for one last time and applying a generous coat of hairspray. Her hair was clipped up in a french twist, her silver cocktail dress hugging her hips, the straps elegantly draped off the shoulders before sweeping into a three quarter length sleeve. Tasteful, elegant, and just the right amount of sexy.

She smiled, strapping the ankle of her silver high heel, her damaged dancer's toes concealed beneath the hood of her shoe. Elain was probably right–Nesta preferred the idea of attention from eligible men more than the actual reality of having a boyfriend. These days, ballet was her only boyfriend.

Or her enemy... her mind flashed back to the pas de deux practice just days ago, Cassian appraising her movements as she flashed him a smirk, revealing probably more of her true thoughts to the choreographer than she had wanted or expected to.

She frowned. Well, whatever. She highly doubted he'd even remember their conversation. If Feyre's recollection was correct, all Cassian had on his mind was having fun, no matter how many blondes it took. She frowned again, Cassian's voice flashing in her memory: "Morrigan, amazing!"

"Hmph." She straightened her posture, throwing her purse over her shoulder and sauntered out of the room.

Elain called the Uber and the sisters folded into the backseat, their long dancer's legs taking up most of the back seat as they traversed the city, the lights of Velaris glowing on the Sidra as Nesta rolled down the window, the warm September air spilling in as they drove in companionable silence.

Nesta looked over at her sister, Elain's curls billowing across her sharp shoulders as she gazed out the window. Her younger sister was quite easily the most beautiful dancer in the entire company. Probably even the ballet world. And tonight, in her pink halter dress, her beauty was sparkling in the city lights.

"I wonder if Mr. Rose will be here." Nesta grinned at Elain as the Uber pulled into the side-street, letting them out onto the sidewalk as Elain swatted Nesta's arm with her clutch.

The sisters paused on the sidewalk, the warm September air blowing against their bare shoulders as they straightened their dresses, Elain flipping her hair over her shoulder as Nesta rolled her shoulders back.