"What's a lovely lady like you doing in the corner?" He asked, probably considering himself charming. (He wasn't. He looked like he was going in for the kill)
"Only taking a moment for myself," she replied, perfectly polite. (She was screaming, hoping for someone to hear but the necklace was tight and it wouldn't let them out)
He held out his hand, gloved in white. "May I have this dance?"
She nodded and offered a feigned smile (It was the only type she gave, and she didn't know if she even knew another smile) "Of course." The hand was taken and she was led to the dance floor, fading into the other dancers easily. She knew the steps to both dances.
"You dance very well," he complimented, leading her along.
"It is my favorite," she answered truthfully (But not like this, not with them)
The tune changed, and the steps became more frantic. "It is a beautiful song," he agreed easily, "Not nearly as beautiful as you."
"You flatter me," speeding up, staying in the center where they could be seen, "I ought to thank you for the compliment." A slip of the foot, a beat off and he frowned. (Her necklace felt looser. Was it?)
"You ought to," he said slowly. A quick movement of his arms, forcing her to adjust herself against his frame.
"But I won't," she said firmly. She forced herself away from him gracefully, forming her own steps and forcing him to follow or look the fool. (Quickly, take control. It's more then it looks like)
He watched her carefully, brow furrowing, "But you won't."
She stepped forward, setting her feet so if he did not move, they would be stepped on. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut our dance short." A few more steps and she released his hand. (Disconnecting, necklace loosening)
He blinked, collecting himself for only a moment. "I enjoyed our dance, Miss Heartfilia," he held out his hand again, offering reconciliation.
"I'm afraid I did not," she said before sweeping imperiously out of the room. The disapproving stare of her father followed her. (The noose was off in a moment, set on her table forcefully.)
She lifted her keys, staring at them in the moonlight shining softly through her window. "Sixteen, mama," Lucy whispered. "Is this what you wanted?" (The chains are still there, but she has the keys)
Lucy looked at her reflection, at the porcelain princess standing there. Delicate and soft. (Breakable)
She sifted through her drawer, finding her savings. She changed out of her luxurious dress, instead choosing the clothing that she had bought on a visit to town. (Chains broken)
If she chose not to leave now, she would not leave. This was where her mother was, where she had grown up. Her family was here, but that was the problem. She looked outside, saw the stars shining. (Life outside the gilded cage)
Barely making a sound, she slipped out of her door and through the house. Her feet moved quickly until she was running, hair slipping out of its elegant bun. (She didn't know these steps, hadn't danced like this in years)
A/N This is probably not great, but I wanted to post it because it's either going to be useless and do nothing or at least exist where it can be read. It's just an idea I've been working on and I don't feel like I'll never be happy with it. I hope you enjoyed it.