(To the person who requested this, I'm so sorry I took forever. Also, another part, woohoo. I always write better when sleep deprived, so here you go.)
She never believed it were possible to be alone in a crowded room, yet she stood there in what she interpreted as utter silence. Lips and tongues moved, yet nothing came out of anyone. Nothing.
Pitch black.
The room was crammed full of excited guests in formal attires; elegant ballgowns flowed from equally elegant, feminine frames as midnight black tuxedos hugged the muscles of the male guests. Put simply, everyone in that room was eye candy, and she felt like the exception to that rule in her simple navy, strapless dress, black tights and pumps. If anything, the floor was more decorated than her, with the intricate gold stitch finely clinging to the rouge threads, lined with a fine line of golden fringe and finished with tassels in the four corners of each rug.
As she stood awkwardly in the corner of the broad hallway, aside the punch bowl, her eyes darted from person to person, each sight landing another blow to her self-esteem. What worsened each hit was that she didn't even have someone to run to for comfort; nobody in the space seemed to care about her presence enough to ask her why she was gazing at every individual in the room in a familiar fashion to that of a bird of prey, so why would they care enough to know sign language to communicate?
Pretty soon, she had drifted off on a raft in her thoughts, occasionally dipping her toes into yet another self-deprecating idea that had formed in her head. Put simply, she was the miserable introvert friend who always believes they're only there for decoration or out of pity, and she knew it was the latter over the former.
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Miraculously, a lousy three minutes had passed before she next checked the clock. How it had only been a matter of minutes was beyond her, and she was so out of her mind with boredom that she contemplated leaving already. The main event hadn't even begun yet, and she wanted to make a beeline to the door.
That was before a figure entered her line of sight, one who had snatched her interest with one gaze. Greedily, her eyes lingered on him as she stole yet another glance of this being, and another. Fixated on this person, her eyes followed his every move, refusing to hover over anything else but him.
Something about his smooth, pale flesh captured her attention; the way the moonlight caressed the darker half of his face was a picture that was worth every moment of awkwardness she'd endured to make it to this point. His eyes followed the peculiar, monochrome pattern as the rest of his body, with one a white as pale as the moonlight, and one as black as the darkness it pierced.
If he had dressed to impressed, it most positively was working on her, as the suit he wore framed his delicate frame like a loving embrace. Judging from his appearance alone, he took a great sense of pride in his looks, and he had every reason to flaunt.
Lists of names flooded her mind; he looked defined, intelligent, soft, considerate, captivating...only a few names came to mind as she traced his form with her eyes.
As eager as she was to approach him, she was left to swoon at a distance; her lack of hearing eliminated her chances of having a conversation with him at all, and that broke her heart. Though it was a mere crush, she was somewhat expectant with it, and believed it was finally the day she fell in love.
The moment his eyes landed in her direction, she froze up on the spot; being the outlier at the party, the shame immediately crept onto her shoulders. This man would never, ever grow to love a freak like her, ever. She was absolutely convinced he would imminently revoke any further attempts to socialise with her the second he discovered she was nothing more than dead weight.
Seeing him approach caused her to mildly panic. He was setting himself up for disappointment by even assuming she had any redeeming qualities, she knew that much.
Being gentlemanly, he took her hand and gently kissed the back of it as a form of formal greeting, one only used among elites of society and lovers, two things she was not. Pigment flooded her soft face, but her hand remained in his gloved grip. The feeling of his satin lace made her skin grow warm, especially since his gesture was so considerate.
When he opened his mouth to speak, her brows lowered in an expression of her shame. Not a word that came out of his mouth got across yet, somehow, she knew his voice was sweet and gentle. Never had she wanted to hear a sound as badly as then.
Calmly, she pointed her index finger to her ear, trying to get it through to him that his words fell on deaf ears...quite literally.
That look of shock that cursed his visage was a memory etched into her conscience until the dawn of a new age. Every attempt of befriending him was thwarted by her deafness, she knew it.
Her eyes stung at the sight of him signing," Good evening. Are you enjoying the party so far?"
Despite her hands trembling to the extent beyond being useable, she signed back," I'm enjoying it now I have someone to talk to."
A grin crept across his soft lips, and she knew it was contagious. In a matter of seconds, she knew her lips had been tugged upwards in a smile," You're a considerate person."
"May I have your name?" He signed back, his motions swift and elegant; he was experienced, and it showed.
"I'm (Y/n) (L/n)." She responds, her smile growing as she speaks in sign language," What's your name?"
The entity halted momentarily to recall how to properly sign his own name," I'm Jack. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss (Y/n)."
Wiping her eyes gently, she fishes any tears that cloud her view. Out of pure coincidence, the one man she was most interested in was the sole person she could communicate with.
Holding out his hand, he then signs," Care to dance, (Y/n)?"
It took one nods from her for him to sweep her off to the dance floor to truly enjoy the party, and she couldn't have been any happier.
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After waltzing until their feet had grown sore, she and her dance partner escaped down the hallway to speak in private, despite having nobody able to interpret them in the first place.
"(Y/n), you're simply stunning. I've never seen a woman so sophisticated yet interesting." Jack signs, admiring her frame as he does so.
Taking her waist in his arm, he swirls her around the empty hallway, her flowing skirt twirling around her legs. It went so smoothly, she forgot what she had been doing and kissed him there and then, her lips meeting his.
His grip on her waist tightened, holding her form gently yet possessively in his grasp.
When she pulled back, she hastily signed," I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. I'm sorry I hadn't spoken to you sooner." Jack responds, an apologetic smile crossing his cheeks.
His smile is returned, as she finally realises she found her soulmate.
