The Devil Named Deimos

Masquerade II

As his name rolled off my tongue, his eyes seemed to darken and his jaw tensed. This is the closest I have ever been to him, and it's intoxicating. Deimos wears a black suit with an accent of a red tie that matches his mask, and coincidentally matches my dress. His golden eyes have never looked so full of life. 

The Devil twirls me away from him in sync with the other dancers, and pulls me right back in. He pulls me in just as Mr. Mountain Dew did, but closer, because now with the sway of our bodies, his lips nearly graze my forehead. 

"I'm afraid I don't know who that is," he says with a playful glint gleaming in his eyes, "but I've heard he is devastatingly handsome." Fair enough, he is abiding by my request in the invitation by not purposefully revealing his identity. His eyes never leave my face as he waits for my response, and my skin tingles from his gaze.

"Interesting," I mumble, loud enough for him to hear, "I've heard that he is rather arrogant." A small smile starts to grow on my face, and we speak quietly as if our conversation is our little secret. He raises his eyebrow at my statement, and a small smirk appears on his angular face.

"Then, I suppose you don't disagree with the fact that he is very handsome?" Of course he would take that from my sentence, that cocky son of a bitch. 

"I agree that he is devastating, but I am undecided on the latter," I bite my lip, and tilt my head while keeping eye contact with him, taunting him.

"Lying to yourself isn't healthy," Deimos chuckles, the deep, low sound sends shivers of something I can't label, throughout my body. I notice that other dancing partners have changed, but we remain swaying together.

The music begins to slowly come to a stop, as the dance gradually ends for now. Dancers leave their partners and walk off the dance floor. I place my hands on Deimos' chest as I raise my lips up to his ear. Intentionally, I let them barely skim his jawline because of my own curiosity. I feel him stiffen, and if I wasn't imagining it, I felt his heartbeat quicken. 

"Having an ego that big surely isn't healthy, Mr. Themis," I whisper in his ear with a smirk on my face. Turning around, I disappear into the throng of people, to find Leon; yet somehow, I feel Deimos' gaze follow me the whole way. 

---

I find Leon sitting at the bar on the far side of the ballroom, sipping a Shirley Temple. His lower lip is jutted out in a pout, and his eyebrows are furrowed. I approach him, and he sees me coming because he is facing the dance floor.

"Hey, L, what's wrong?" I tap his nose, and slide onto the bar stool next to him. 

"I couldn't find Jeremy, and I don't know anyone here besides you two," he says, a little sloppily, with his head down. Alcohol can either make Leon an overly enthusiastic drunk, or a depressed one. "So I decided to get myself a drink, but it turned into more than one."

"Leon," I sigh, "I'll help you find Jeremy, he's probably looking for you too." I take the drink out of his hand and place it on the table. Taking his hands in mine, I look to his face to see he's still frowning. 

"Thanks, Ror, but I want to find him by myself, because we promised each other once we did we would have some rough, drunken-" I cover his mouth just in time, and I can feel him smiling behind it. 

"Jesus," I say, laughing at Leon's drunk, and uncontrollable mouth. "You go get em' tiger," I push him forward, and he has a wide, sloppy smile on his face, with new motivation to find his fiance. 

"Love you, Ror," he kisses me on the cheek then walks away and gradually disappears into the crowd. I'm so happy for him, he deserves someone great like Jeremy.