Let's Have a Ball

Tahani Al-Jamil was, as put gently, quite snobbish. This wasn't her fault, I'd like to think, as she was raised in a very unfortunate way. Always paired up with her younger sister, Kamilah. Their parents had always put one against the other, though Kamilah always came out on top.

She found herself constantly trying to impress others, and it worked. Until they found out that she was related to the younger, yet far more superior woman.

Which of course was why Tahani was being dragged to another gala. It was another celebration for Kamilah's success, hurrah! Hurrah for her sister, the great, wonderous, perfect daughter.

Dressed in a lovely sunshine yellow frock, the brunette walked around the perfectly set ballroom, aching for someone to ask her to dance. She knew this was never going to happen, obviously, as everyone was already paired up.

Then her eyes settled down on a young blonde wearing a lovely black dress. She was sitting down at one of the tables closest to the wall and was scrolling through her phone.

A smile spread across the blonde's red lips and she let out a small laugh. Most would find her chortle a bit too gravely, a bit unsophisticated, but Tahani couldn't help but think it was adorable. She heard a small click and earned a worried look from the girl when she set her phone down.

"Oh, shit." The young woman said, catching the brunette off guard. The blonde grabbed her phone and stood upward, "Was this your seat?"

The brunette's eyes widened at the girl's height. She was very small, much like a child, yet tall enough to be recognized as an adult.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" The blonde stood up on her tip-toes and waved a hand in front of Tahani's eyes, snapping her out of her trance.

"Oh...I sincerely apologize, miss. I was staring, wasn't I? Oh, how uncouth." She scolded herself, earning a sympathetic look from the blonde.

"Hey, it's cool hot stuff." She raised both her hands in reassurance, "I probably look pretty trashy compared to you, huh? No wonder you were staring."

"N-No..." The brunette reassured, "I-I mean..." She sighed, "I'm Tahani Al-Jamil, you?"

"Eleanor Shellstrop." The blonde smiled, offering her hand for a shake. The brunette took it gladly, surprised at how soft her hand was. The British woman pouted when she saw everyone dancing elegantly along to the music. Oh, how she longed to dance.

But Eleanor seemed to take her sadness in a different direction.

"Oh, I know." She growled, "This party is the worst, right? Not a single bar and all the food they have are these tiny appetizers." Her stomach then growled to match her disapproval.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, shit." Eleanor scolded herself, "You aren't the host or whatever, are you?"

"No." She reassured, "You're thinking of my sister."

"Just glad it's not you, then."

Tahani's heart sank, of course Eleanor was pleased with this information. It was clear to everyone how impressive Kamilah was. She turned to walk away, only to be yanked back by the blonde.

"I'm glad it's not you." She repeated.

"Yes, you've said that already. Shall I go fetch my sister for you and you could have a little chat?"

"...Because I would be insulting the hottest woman alive." She finished, "So, wanna sit with me?" Eleanor suggested, pointing to the seat next to her own.