Masqueraded Identities

Chapter Twenty-Three

Everything's getting so scandoulous :O ;D

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I walked down the stairs by my lonesome, trying not to trip over my long, form-fitting, dark purple dress. Tay had still not come back yet. I had texted her asking where she was, and she said her flight got delayed, and she should be back at school the next day.

I was lonely without her. She drove me insane every now and then, but she truly had become a great friend, and I was proud to call her my roommate.

I got so caught up in my own thoughts, I didn't realize Ryan standing at the bottom of the staircase. He was in a simple tuxedo, his hair wet but still crazy curly. He held his arm out for me, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. It reminded me of that one scene in the Titanic where Jack is waiting to have dinner with Rose's family.

I smile, and my put hand gently on his arm.

“Are you my escort tonight?” I asked. Of any thing I could have possibly asked him, including how he got ready so fast or why he was doing this when he knew I was taken, for some reason, asking him if he was my escort seemed to be the more important question. Mark would live. Ryan was a guy, so of course he could get ready quickly.

“Of course. You can't just let a pretty girl go to dinner on her own,” he said, faking shock at such a silly question.

I giggled. “You're full of it.”

“While that may be true, I got you to smile, and that's what counts.”

I shook my head. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” he asked, turning his head ever so slightly to have his brown eyes gaze at me. His hair curled perfectly around his jawline, which looked as chiseled as always. His lips were slightly parted, and his slightly tanned skin looked radiant under the light as we walked out of the dorm room to the outdoors. The faint light left by the sunset gave his appearance an eerie shadow, but if anything, it made his looks stand out anymore.

My breath caught in my throat. Had he always been this beautiful?

He cocked his head, a confused smile on his face. I knew I should have stopped staring, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. My eyes refused to leave him.

He chuckled, and blinked. He took a deep breath, as if scared of what he might do next. I could see why he would be frightened, though, because as blissful as looked leaning in to put his lips on mine, there was still fear and anxiety written all over his face.

His lips were soft and wonderful. They tasted like licorice or Twizzlers or some type of candy relating to that. Probably because he seemed to always be eating Twizzlers.

But all too soon, I realized what was happening. I pulled away, and stared at him, bewildered and angry, yet so ecstatic and happy that I wasn't sure if I was angry at him or me. I should have blamed him. He knew I was in a relationship. He kissed me first. But, maybe I should be blaming myself. I enjoyed it, didn't I?

“I... Shit, I'm so sorry,” he said pathetically, pointlessly. He knew as well as I did that should not have happened. But I hope he also felt the electricity and the sparks and the comfort I had felt when his lips were on mine.

I shook my head. “It's fine... Things happen.”

“You look radiant,” he said quietly, as if he had to get it out but didn't want me to hear it. I decided to let him win that one, and just ignored his comment. I started our walk back to the cafeteria. He followed me silently, keeping his distance.