Addicted

Dancers pranced around the centre of the ballroom, whirling and intertwining with one another. It was amusing—to say the least—how they flowed between each other like water. If a single person trips or falls, the group would fall with them. An arm creeps from behind my back, engulfing my waist as it wraps around it, pulling me backwards. Senses heightened, I frantically whipped my head around, prepared to behead the unfortunate victim.

"Calm down love." The voice behind me uttered.

Zade.

I scoffed, the stress dissolving away from my being, moulding into the shadows that laced the walls. I leaned over the balcony, letting out a long sigh.

"Did I not make it clear to you not to be lovey-dovey?" I spat out through clenched teeth. He chuckled, leaning against the wall, seeping into the darkness.

"I didn't choose to be engaged to you." He remarked

That wasn't necessary to mention. I imagined giving him the middle finger, but I'm more mature than that. I relished the thought before shoving it aside.

"Don't blame me for your dad practically selling you to me with the marriage," I said, reeking of confidence. He pushed his body off the wall, stalking towards me.

"I think your mother sold you to me." Sold me to him? Although my family was struggling with some "financial issues", it doesn't mean she sold me. A scoff crawls up my throat, but I swallow it, not permitting it to escape my lips. My mother wouldn't dare to do something as vile as that. He halted in front of me, towering over me. I stared into his piercing blue eyes, which were narrow yet calm.

"Have you ever thought about that?" Tilting his head, he brushed my hair behind my ear, leaning closer. Is he using romantic gestures to accommodate his rudeness? Swatting his hand away, I furrowed my brows.

"No, I have not." He smiled, pulling away from me. Before I could retaliate, a figure stood in the doorway, interrupting our impending argument.

"Hello, doll." She spoke coldly, almost robotic. My mother slithered in, taking her spot on a chair. I plastered a fake smile, waving at her, hoping she didn't hear our previous conversation.

"Hi, Mother!" I exclaim, peering around my mother's body. I raise an eyebrow.

"Where's Father?" She sucked in her cheeks, glancing to the side as if she was expecting him to appear out of thin air.

"He's..." She pauses, a tense silence filling the air as she emits a sigh, "He's busy with work."

Of course, that excuse of a man is busy at work, as always. Does he ever consider how his absence affects me? He's a liar and a fraud, saying he'll be there. But he's never there. Never.

I bent over the balcony again and watched the dancers exit the floor through the broad wooden doors on the other side of the ballroom, swapping with a group of ballerinas.

"It's amusing, isn't it, beauty?" Zade strode towards me, joining me on the balcony. I glanced over at him, his hair slowly falling on his face.

He looked... angelic almost.

"Oh, yeah," I replied hastily, snapping back to reality and continuing to admire the elegance of ballet. Yet, I couldn't focus properly; my heart felt heavy with something. Something I couldn't place my finger on. I loathed this man, despised him, even—then I would feel my heart skip when we made eye contact.

Was it because I feared him or because I loved him? Love him? No, I'd rather perish.

"The ballroom floor is open and free to dance on." The voice over the speaker cracked, echoing throughout the ballroom, dragging me back to my senses. Zades hand ran down my back, a burning sensation etched into my skin. He leaned down to my ear and whispered, his breath gently skimming against my earlobe.