Masquerade {Harry Styles}
We Meet
I'm standing in the midst of a crowd. Everyone is dressed in silk and frills and fancy attire, and their faces are covered in elaborate masks. Sparkling chandeliers hang down from the ceiling, casting glittering reflections on the glass dance floor wherever someone isn't. A simple orchestra plays music on violins and cellos, creating music for the dancing couples. I watch as couples dance and twirl together in time with the melody. The ladies' ball gowns billow out and around their partners' legs, making a beautiful masterpiece.
If the description hasn't already given it away, I am at a ball. A ball for my father's company and their families to celebrate fifty years of designing sports cars. I'm not too crazy about my father's career, but it pays well, so I get to have nice things.
Excited voices swirl around me as I make my way to a table with glasses of champagne setting out. I catch little snippets of conversation while I grab myself a drink. I'm too young to drink, I'm only seventeen, but it wouldn't hurt to try a taste, would it?
I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip of the champagne. My mouth puckers up at the horribly rancid taste. It takes all my effort not to gag and spit out the acidic drink, which would embarrass myself and my family, which my father strictly told me not to do.
I'm determined to take at least two more gulps so that I can say I drank it. Bracing myself for the disgusting flavor again, I down another sip, this one bigger than the previous. I discreetly let out a splutter; I just can't stand the taste.
Someone lets out a chuckle from behind me.
I gasp and twirl around to see who saw me do something embarrassing.
A young man dressed in a tuxedo with a red rose in his breast pocket stands before me. A glittering red mask hides most of his face, except for his cheeky grin. A crown of curly brown hair adorns his head. The mask is no surprise, since this a masquerade ball, after all.
"I see you don't like the taste of champagne," he says huskily, grinning from ear to ear. He folds his arms over his chest and crosses one leg over the other.
I clear my throat before I speak. "No," I say in a dignified tone, "I find it rather tart, that's all."
He chuckles again, and then grabs himself a glass off the table behind me. I winc as he gulps down the whole glass. It's not that large of a cup, but I find it fascinating that he could drink all of it without even so much as a shiver.
When he's finished, he sets the glass down on a random spot at the table. He stands in front of me and bows, extending his arm out towards me.
"Care to dance?" he says, grinning cheekily up at me.
I smile and adjust the golden mask on my face. "Why not?"
I place my hand in his and he leads me to the dance floor. My long yellow mermaid gown trails behind me as I walk, the layers of silk swishing against my legs and each other. I love that sound.
We step in the midst of the dancing couples, and the boy beside me glances mischievously at me. He effortlessly swings me around so I am now facing him and places his free hand on my waist. Not entirely sure what to do or say, I just smile at him and put my hand on his shoulder.
The orchestra starts playing a slow mellow tune, and the stranger and I sway back and forth. A minute or two passes before words are exchanged between the two of us.
"So, what's your name?" I ask, crunching my eyebrows in a curious fashion. I forget that he can't see them and quickly put them back in a neutral position.
YOU ARE READING
Masquerade {Harry Styles}
FanfictionEliza might be falling for a stranger who hides his face. A stranger who hides his face might be falling for Eliza. What Eliza doesn't know is that she might be falling for Harry Styles.