Under Your Scars || Sebastian Sallow x MC

Chapter 50 - There You Are

Sans ton regard je n'irai plus nul part (Without your gaze, I won't go anywhere)

Crois-moi (Believe me )

Car aujourd'hui, si je sais celle que je suis (Because today, if I know who I am)

C'est grâce à toi (It's thanks to you)

Regarde-Moi  

-Beccä

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Juliette POV

I stood behind Rosalie, fighting her hair for dominance as she sat in my vanity chair. I combed hair oils through her curls, twisting them into an updo to match the elegance of her gown, which hung on the room divider behind us. There was barely half an hour before the Yule Ball was to commence, and we were running dreadfully behind schedule.

"Thank you for doing this, Miss Fontaine. My hair is always such a bother with all the texture," Rose said with an exasperated sigh. She tended to wear her natural hair down in voluminous coils and she had been anxious about getting it to cooperate for the ball.

"It's not a bother at all," I assured her. "I learned to braid and twist my friend Natty's hair when I was in school. I would be happy to do your hair any time, Rose."

I desperately wanted to ask her to stop calling me 'Miss Fontaine'. It was so strange and formal with how close I had grown to her in the recent weeks. Still, I did not want to make her uncomfortable or put any pressure on her to drop the formalities. She was still a student, after all.

"Can I know which lucky man is escorting you to the ball?" I teased as I placed a delicate jeweled comb into her hair.

Rose's cheeks flushed and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Her shoulders rose to her ears with tension, so I placed my hands on them to settle her nerves. She took a deep breath before answering.

"There erm... is no lucky man, Miss Fontaine. Carina is escorting me to the ball," she winced, as if bracing for my reaction to such news. I was not sure what there was to be nervous or embarrassed about. Plenty of students were attending the ball as groups of friends, rather than romantic dates.

It explained the color of her dress, as Miss Parkinson belonged to Ravenclaw. Perhaps they had the same idea that Garreth and I had all those years ago.

"That's very sweet, Rose," I said with a reassuring squeeze of her shoulders. "You know, my seventh year I attended the ball with one of my dear friends, Garreth Weasley."

"As in Headmistress Weasley?" her head tilted with curiosity.

"Indeed, her rebellious nephew with a knack for potioneering. He is the one that brews your Dreamless Sleep potions."

She only nodded, her cheeks growing redder by the second.

Once her hair was perfected, she retreated behind the room dividers to slip into her gown. I had luckily already put mine on before she arrived to get her hair done. Otherwise, the ball would have been over by the time we arrived.

When she emerged from our makeshift dressing room, I tightened her corset and fastened her emerald necklace around her neck. She placed the goblin-silver cuffs Sebastian had gifted her the night prior onto her dainty wrists, just in case.