❝you laugh like a little girl,
inside you think like a martyr❞
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Rosalie had been surprised when Alice flashed two VIP backstage passes on their way through the crowds, wondering why she had gotten them in the first place. Then she remembered.
This was Alice.
Rosalie's undead heart seemed to thump with apprehension and her cold blood fizzled hot in her stony veins. She had never felt so alive. All because she had seen some pretty girl dance.
No, she corrected herself, not just some pretty girl. Her mate.
But how could that possibly be? Rosalie was not so apprehensive to meet her mate that she forgot one simple fact, that Violet was human. That was a problem within itself as Rosalie despised humans but also the domino effect that could come with rushing in and telling the poor girl of the existence of vampires was something Rosalie couldn't even consider.
Maybe she just let Alice take control for now.
"Bonjour." Alice called to a girl with short black hair and a striking red lip that stood outside of the backstage door. "Nous-"
"You are the Americans?" The girl interrupted quickly in a thick French accent, making Rosalie raise an eyebrow at the human. "You are late."
"The show just ended." Rosalie said plainly but anyone could hear the bite in her tone.
Rosalie did not like to deal with the incompetence of anyone, let alone humans.
"Yes, well." The girl sent her a look before addressing them both. "Madame Dubois is on a tight schedule so... allons-y."
Rosalie rolled her eyes as they followed her through a crowd of dancers in complete disarray, a stark contrast to the perfection of their dance. Alice jabbed her lightly in the side with her elbow, keeping a contented smile on her face while Rosalie rubbed her side.
The backstage was a dimly lit, battle ground of dancers running this way and that in various forms of undress. Rosalie's amber eyes darted to and fro, scanning each face for the sepia skinned swan she had been so mesmerised merely moments before.
They reached the end of a corridor, so close to the exit of the building that you could feel the cool October air rushing from under the door. One name was carved into the gold plaque on the wood door before them.
Violet Dubois.
The French girl rapped on the door and when she called to the prima ballerina, she used a far more polite voice than she had with Rosalie and Alice.
"Madame Dubois, you have VIPs to see you!" She then said something unintelligible in French but that was quickly forgotten by the two vampires stood in the dark corridor.
For, unlike the human beside them, they could hear the soft panicked breaths, that came far too quickly to be normal, behind the door.
Rosalie's gaze hardened at the image of her mate in any form of unease due to her. She would set herself alight rather than be the cause of this girls fear.
Then she remembered. Violet should be afraid of her, she was a vampire. She hadn't thought this through yet, there was far too much to be wary of in their current situation.
But there was no time to think as just as the breaths seemed to stop completely, the door swung open revealing the ballerina. She was still dressed in the pink tulle of her costume and wisps of her hair escaped her braid and fell to frame her face in the most delicate way possible.
