She spun away from him and a lock of hair came loose from her perfectly coiffed updo. She would be frustrated with it when she discovered the stray strands later but he didn't dare bring it to her attention now. He wanted to keep her here with him as long as possible. He watched as it danced around her like a red satin ribbon in the wind. What he wouldn't give to tear the rest free from its pins, to run his fingers through it. What he wouldn't do to have more than just one dance on her card tonight.
He knew when the music was over she would no longer be his. She would return to the dark man currently scowling at him from the corner of the room, the man her mother had found more suitable. Still, Jellal could pretend. Pretend that she felt the same sparks he did when their fingers touched. Pretend that it wasn't his imagination that she had shivered when his hand touched the small of her back. Pretend that her smiles were because of him and not because of the liveliness of the music and the dance.
He didn't know why he tortured himself like this and yet he couldn't stop. Every time he found she was attending the same social event he would request as many slots on her dance card as society deemed appropriate. He knew he wasn't completely out of line as she had not yet refused him, not once, and Erza was not the kind of woman who did things she didn't want to just for the sake of politeness.
Her eyes caught his and he smiled, a genuine smile he reserved only for her. He swore he saw her cheeks turn a pleasant shade of pink but she turned away from him as the steps of the dance required and when she faced him again all signs of the color were gone. He cursed that this stuffy old crowd would not let them waltz, the quadrille did not allow the closeness he craved. If only this world they lived in would give him time with her alone. If only her mother didn't watch them like a hawk. What Erza would he see if it was just the two of them? The strong, no nonsense woman he saw across the table arguing politics at dinner parties? Or maybe the sweet, adventurous girl he remembered from his days as a boy? Or maybe something else, something new, something just for him.
The song was coming to an end and his soul began to despair. Once again his past was pulling him back and placing its hands around his throat. If only he had been smarter, if only he had not been so wild. If only he had gone into the law or become an officer in the Navy as his father had desired. Then, maybe her mother would not be glaring at him so openly across the ballroom, maybe the ladies in the room wouldn't be whispering behind their gloved hands every time he led her onto the dance floor, and maybe she would be marrying him in the spring instead of that clod who didn't deserve her.
The music came to a halt and the musicians began adjusting in their places, preparing for the next dance. Erza looked lost, as if like him she didn't want to leave this moment. "Thank you for the dance Miss Scarlet," he murmured. He knew using his old term of endearment for her was risky, he shouldn't presume he could treat her with such familiarity, but the hell with convention, he was almost out of time. He swiftly took her hand and kissed it with a bow, not caring who saw, knowing full well he was pressing his luck. Let the room call him a cad, let the room say he was nothing but a playboy. These days finding an excuse to touch her was his only ambition. Touching his lips to her hand, even through the glove, was like a cool drink on a hot day, refreshing and rejuvenating. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like when lips touched skin. What it would be like to kiss her cheek, her lips, her throat, her. . .
He lifted his eyes to her face, trying to turn the tide of his thoughts. To his surprise she didn't jerk away, or give him the usual rebuke from her sharp tongue. Instead, she was staring down at their hands mournfully. Sorrow washed over him, he hated the expression he had just put on her face. He preferred her red, angry or smiling secretly, not this pale despair he saw in front of him. "Is everything alright?" he whispered.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. The sad expression quickly disappeared, replaced with an embarrassed grimace. She pulled her hand away, fingers squeezing his thumb slightly in her escape. With a small pained pinch to her face she whispered back, "I'm fine, if you will please excuse me." Then she hurried away before he could utter another word.
Jellal stood there watching her weave her way through the crowd at the side of the room until the dancers began to assemble for the upcoming reel. He wandered off the dance floor as if lost. He was unable to focus on anything except for the tingling in his hand. What was that? Did it mean anything? If it did, was there even anything he could do about it?
Flabbergasted, he decided to track her down and demand an explanation but was held in place by a firm grip on his arm. "Ya told me to keep ya from making an ass of yerself but yer sure making it an impossible task." Erik began pulling Jellal towards the door. "It's time we left, you have displeased her majesty."
Jellal glanced over at the Lady Belserion. If looks could kill he would be drawing his last breath, but it was only a look so he gave her a smirk and a wink in return. He hadn't believed it possible but somehow her expression darkened. He smiled at Erik and quipped, "She's not so bad. I think she's actually warming up to me."
Erik made a guttural sound of frustration that Jellal had become all too familiar with then spat, "Even so, she gives me the willies, we're leaving. She's probably cursing us as we speak." He pulled more forcefully on Jellal's arm.
"Wait now, just a second. I have to find her, I have to ask something," Jellal cried, though he didn't put up a fight as Erik shuffled him towards the door.
"Not a chance Romeo, that fiance of hers has been known for his temper. You keep on like this and he'll be tracking you down for a duel. Imagine the scandal, just think what you would put the lady through. Get yer head straight," Erik growled as they made their way to the front where Richard waited with their coats and hats in hand.
Jellal looked over his shoulder one more time but was unable to find her red hair in the crowd. He sighed. "Yes, of course. Thank you. I wasn't thinking." He allowed Richard to help him into his coat and with a despondent nod followed the two men out the front door.
When they were nearly to the carriage Erik said, "I think maybe we should get out of town for a while. Some fresh air would do you good. We've been to too many stuffy parties these past few months, it's addled yer brain." He pulled himself into the body of the carriage without a glance back.
"Maybe. . ." Jellal said, though it wasn't necessary. Erik knew full well that Jellal would not be leaving town unless the Belserions left as well.
"Did you enjoy yourself sir?" Richard asked as he followed Jellal in.
The whole carriage creaked and dipped with the large valet's weight. From his perch up in the driver's seat, Sawyer grumbled, "Gonna topple us over that one is."
Jellal gave a lopsided grin as Richard crammed himself onto the bench across from them. "I had a very good time Richard. I'm glad I went."
Richard sighed into his seat, visibly relieved. "That's good sir. I was a little worried, what with all the rumors circling."
Erik chuckled, "All not well downstairs today?"
Richard nodded, "Kagura was tight lipped as usual but Millianna said that the countess was in an uproar that Lady Porlyursica had the gall to invite you."
Jellal grinned and knocked on the roof of the carriage to let the driver know they were ready to head for home. He leaned towards Erik and said, "She finds me entertaining."
Erik rolled his eyes. "The devil knows why. I get the feeling you're the only person on this earth she can stand. She wouldn't have thrown this party at all if it wasn't tradition."
Jellal turned back to Richard. "Did Millianna say anything else?" he asked, daring to hope that maybe Erza thought of him as much as he thought of her.
"The countess almost didn't come tonight, apparently Miss Erza begged and pleaded. The countess only relented" -Richard leaned forward- "because she didn't want to give fuel to the spark that is starting about her future son-in-law."
"Future son-in-law? What is happening with him?" Jellal asked, leaning forward as well.
Erik groaned, "Don't encourage him Richard, he's bad enough as it is."
Richard continued undeterred, "Millianna wasn't sure sir but I tracked down Wally and he says that apparently Lord Groh is not as wealthy as everyone believes him to be. Apparently Lord Groh lost quite a lot of money gambling in a few seedy places downtown and then he lost a lot more of other people's money on an investment he was hoping to redeem himself with. This marriage isn't quite the match that the countess thought it would be. It would seem it is exactly the opposite of what she was aiming for."
Jellal leaned back in his seat unable to stop the wide smile growing on his face. He felt giddy, he felt alive. Finally, he might have some kind of chance.
Then Erik brought him back down to earth with a slap on the back and a "Hey look Jellal, there might actually be someone the countess hates more than you now." Jellal sighed and sunk back in his seat. The world was a cruel place when the only path to his light was guarded by a tigress with large teeth and merciless claws.