On this twist of the classic Cinderella, Cinder is your average step child: ignored, mistreated, and left in the dark. But when the chance of a lifetime arrives to sneak out to the Prince's ball Cinder leaves his past behind - even if only for a few...
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The snow outside flows freely but it stays warm inside the Tremaine penthouse. While the chill blows on the outside of the frost covered glass, the heat of the room blasts against Cinder's skin and coats the window in a foggy sheet of condensation.
He seems to always find himself pressed against a window, dark blonde hair sticking to the panels as his freckled cheek slides against the cool material. It's where he seems to find peace, to watch the snow falling in clumps just beyond his reach before falling to the grey-toned concrete below.
As his eyes begin to wander to the small bodies outside a knock draws his attention inward, the sound heavy against the wood as it ricochets throughout the apartment.
"Who is it?" He calls disinterested, glaring at the dark brown and gold door from the sides of his eyes.
There's a small jingle of the door knob before two dark hands reach within the frame, followed by two gleaming faces. As their eyes scan the house they fall on Cinder, a simultaneous frown coming to their lips at the sight of him.
Cinder shifts his eyes back to the strangers on the streets, mere ants at this distance as they shuffle around in the snow. "Campbell. Cameron." He greets, arms crossing against his chest before pushing himself from the windowsill.
His sisters divert their eyes as they enter the room with full arms. From afar it seems to be dress bags that they lay across the back of the cream couch. The large bags folding seamlessly over the back of the suede material as they cautiously unzip each one, a puff of tulle shooting out of the bag before being carelessly shoved back into place.
"Goodmorning, Cinder." Cameron calls out as she fumbles with the tulle a bit more. "You were actually who I was hopin' to see." Her hard features soften if only for a moment as she lays her eyes on her brother, the rough coal of her irises momentarily melting into a softened chocolate.
"And that would be..."
"Because," his other sister, Campbell, calls out, making her way from behind the couch to fall into its cushioned seats. "The dresses Mama made us are ugly and we know you could do better." Her thick lips fall into a pout as she locks her hands together in faux desperation. "Plus you're our little brother so we know you'll say yes."
"Adopte-"
"Still our little brother." Cameron interjects.
Cameron's gaze falls upon the mess of a living room with judging eyes, feet batting away at a roll of tulle as she attempts to cross the room to greet Cinder still lingering near the window. Between the Christmas decorations still piled into boxes and the naked tree cast away into a corner, the room seems to have shrunk since the week before.
Add to that the amount of spare fabric and pins littered across the darkened oak floors and the room appears to have been struck by a blizzard.
Cinder follows her eyes before sheepishly shrugging. "I was working on Bellami's dress for the party earlier. I guess I got a bit carried away..." he adds on, cringing a bit at the mess that had accumulated around him.
"Well," Campbell pipes up from the couch, still absentmindedly rubbing the tulle between her fingers. "you can go 'head and add our dresses to the list as well cause Mama done lost her mind if she thinks I'm gonna' impress anyone in this." She lifts up the tulle before throwing it off her hands in disgust. "I want somethin' fiery but elegant...and sparkly, don't forget the sparkly bit."
"And I want you to clean this up." Cameron huffs, arms crossed as she steps back to analyze the room one last time. "Did Mama not tell you that you were fitting the van der Woodsons'? Today!" The sterner girl barks, her fingers fumbling with her crochet braids before shoving a hand into the pocket of her paper-bag pants.
Cinder only knocks his head against the chill glass, eyes squeezed shut in frustration at his sister's demands. Slowly, he lets out a shaky breath in a poor attempt to calm himself, to will himself not to bite back at two of them. "Cassandra was supposed to fit the van der Woodson family." He breathes, finger and thumb clasped tight around the bridge of his nose. "Since when was I supposed to do it?"
"Since they were on their way here right now." Cameron groans as she picks up a few pins scattered around her. "They're coming up here too, Mama doesn't want them snooping around in the offices." She explains, heels clicking against the wood as she shuffles to pick up the remaining pins. "And Campbell," she calls from across her shoulder, eyeing the girl on the couch with a singe of hatred. "You aren't meeting your potential future husband in mom jeans, go change."
With a slight huff the girl drags herself from the couch, tennis shoes scuffing the floor as she forces herself up a nearby staircase.
Cameron and Cinder fall into silence, the boy watching as she plugs in the lights to the Christmas tree before standing back to admire her own work.
"The tree lights makes us look warm and happy." She whispers if only to herself, an unfamiliar nervousness lodged in the back of her throat as she rocks on her strappy heels. "Like wife material, y'know?"
Cinder shrugs with a clear disinterest at her monologue. "I guess? I'm just the tailor at this point." He sighs.
Cameron copies his sigh, a manicured hand falling onto his shoulder with a slight thud. "You're not a tailor, you're a fashion designer. Don't sell yourself short, Cin. So," she coughs, removing her hand though the awakened sentiment still hangs in the air. "What'd you have planned for them?"
"Cassandra had some sketches for them but I think I'm going to toss them." He admits, bending over a cardboard box to absentmindedly string a few more ornaments on the tree. "It was just basic black ties for the men and a mother-of-the-bride type of dress for Mrs. van der Woodson. Nothing special. I'm probably going to add some more textures and a pop of color for the men and redesign the entire dress for the mom."
"And work on Campbell's dress? And mine? And Bellami's?" Cameron adds on with a disbelieving chuckle. "And all in three days time?"
"Like you said," Cinder let's out a deep breath, swirling the golden ornament in his hand as he stares at his freckled reflection. "I'm a fashion designer."
There's another knock on the door that leaves them both frozen, the ornament rolling out of Cinder's hands as Cameron jogs to the door with a poorly-hidden anticipation.
As the door swings open a winter chill slides down Cinder's spine, a familiar brunette waving wildly in the doorway.
