The Decade Dance

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(A/N - we will skip the talk and jump staring into action, okay? and lets also assume that Isabella was called to join the decade dance by Rebekah, shall we?)


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Where are your manners? Is that how you greet a lady?


At Dance

Isabella 

As I entered the room, I was greeted by the sight of a lively crowd, a sea of people swaying and twirling to the infectious rhythm of jazz. Dressed in elaborate 1920s attire, they moved with an effortless grace, their laughter and chatter filling the air with an electric energy. The room itself seemed to pulsate with life, bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight and adorned with elegant decorations reminiscent of a bygone era. It was as if I had stepped into a scene from a Great Gatsby party, a spectacle of opulence and revelry that transported me back in time to a world of glamour and intrigue.

With a confident stride, I made my way through the crowd, my gaze fixated on Damon, who sat regally in a nearby chair, exuding an air of effortless charm. As I approached, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips, anticipation coursing through me. "Well, hello Damon," I greeted him, my voice laced with a playful edge.

With a subtle raise of his brow, Damon's gaze pierced through me, his eyes betraying a hint of intrigue mixed with a touch of skepticism. "What do you want now?" His words sliced through the air like a razor, sharp and unyielding. Inwardly, I yearned to confess the truth—to tell him that it was him I desired above all else.

"Where are your manners? Is that how you greet a lady?" I countered, my tone laced with a hint of challenge as I met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his steely demeanor.

"Pardon me, will you?" Damon replied, his voice tinged with a cool detachment that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Okay, I came here to tell you that I will be leaving town right after this dance that my sister pulled me into," I announced, my words echoing in the dimly lit room, each syllable heavy with the weight of my impending departure.

"I also wanted to apologize for what happened back then... I am sorry... I really am," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with genuine remorse. Every word hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the weight of past mistakes and unspoken desires. "You know I don't mean any harm unless..."

"Apology accepted," Damon interrupted, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance, betraying the lingering echoes of our shared history.

"Well, that's great... Would you like to dance with me?" I asked, mustering every ounce of courage to meet his gaze, my eyes pleading silently for a chance at redemption. With a subtle shift in my stance, I extended my arms towards him, a silent invitation hanging between us like a delicate thread.

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