Two-Faced Gremlin Oneshots

I Don't Dance With Gremlins

Summary:

"May I have this dance?"

Allen wondered if he'd gone insane because just for a moment there, he'd had butterflies in his stomach.

A/N: This is essentially an I Thought You Didn't Kiss Gremlins rewrite, except they don't kiss anymore so the title sort of loses it's meaning. Hence the change.

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Allen would much rather be at home.

It didn't help that he hadn't been informed of this ball until an hour ago, so he had allowed his appearance to get fuddled up from lying on the bed and scrolling through the phone.

It also didn't help that when he had finally gotten ready, his hair seemed to refuse to be tamed and stuck up in a weird way and Louisse had to clip his hair down with her hairpin to make him look presentable.

And it definitely didn't help that Ryan was standing right next to him, looking at him and trying not to laugh.

Allen would much, much rather be at home.

"I didn't know you liked jewellery, Allen," Ryan said, lips tugging up in a smirk.

"Shut up," Allen snapped.

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Ryan teased. Allen wondered if it would be socially acceptable to punch him right in the face and wipe that smirk off.

Instead of giving a response, Allen walked off to find a more isolated area. He hated this place, hated the people here, hated the company he had to hang around. He also realized that his thoughts seemed to be more violent than usual.

Allen wasn't sure if that was Az's influence, or the sleep deprivation finally catching up to it. He decided to blame both.

"Ryan, for fuck's sake, leave me alone," Allen said, stopping and turning at the blue-haired boy who was following him.

"What?" Ryan asked innocently, "I'm only going in the same direction you're going. And when did your language become so foul?"

Allen was about to open his mouth and show Ryan just how much fouler his language could be but his retort died in his throat as he saw a familiar face approach him.

Velma Gayhardt.

The girl by herself wasn't much of a threat, and by now Allen had pretty much gotten over his childhood trauma. Or at least, grown insensitive to it. But the last time she had confronted him like this...Allen felt a shiver down his spine. He hoped to God that those crazy, masked, knife-throwing maniacs weren't around this time.

"Oh Allen~" came the sickly sweet voice, "I see you have company today."

Kill me now, Allen thought.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at the newcomer. She curtseyed and introduced herself.

"I'm Velma Gayhardt. It is my utmost pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Ryan Sullivan," Ryan said, returning the bow, "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Velma gave him a grin and turned to Allen. "Aw, Allen, you won't greet me? Where are your manners?"

"My manners are reserved for people with intellect," Allen said distractedly, looking around for any sign of the knife-throwing maniacs, "And clearly you're not one of them."