Daphne glared around the room. The people were loud and dancing ridiculously.
This party was lame, so below her.
It was all about the alcohol, vulgar conversation, bad dancing, and trying to look good to the opposite sex. She had already drank a glass of champagne; vulgar conversation was below her in public; she didn't make a fool of herself and danced badly, or else she wouldn't dance at all; she knew she looked great to the opposite sex. This party was below her. The people attending the party were below her.
She hated parties like this. So shallow, so lonely.
Knowing she hated to stay, everyone had to be at a party like this tonight. Last night, the Dark Lord fell, everyone in their right mind, and that was on the right side, was celebrating.
She didn't feel like celebrating. She had lost both friends and enemies, from both sides. She felt lost, lonely, and scared.
And she had lost someone very important to him, but not to death. He had been perfect, but she had watched him go and not followed. She had lost him.
The room was rapidly filling with smoke and the voices and laughter was getting louder.
She searched the room for a familiar face, but found no one.
A voice came from behind her, "Are you alone?"
The voice was as smooth as silk, and very familiar. The voice sent a chill down her spine, causing memories to flood into her mind. She could have sworn her heart to skip a beat.
A gently hand laid on her shoulder, possessively. The hand gently turned her to face him even as she was silent.
He was beautiful. He was just as she remembered. His face was smooth, chiseled perfectly into elegant features. His sandy hair was perfectly parted. He had dressed for the party; he had dressed for meeting and seducing a lady.
She hoped her.
"Are you alone, Daphne?" he repeated in a silky calm voice.
"Yeah," she answered in what she hoped was an equally silky voice.
"Do you want to dance?" he asked, gestured to the middle of the room that had turned into a fake, pathetic dance floor.
"No," she answered, smiling. "I want to leave."
He took her hand, and smirked at her in an arrogant way. "Too bad."
The smile that couldn't be called anything but a smirked, made her heart jump. She was so engrossed his beauty that she didn't even resist as he led her to the dance floor.
His hand was placed gently on her waist, and he yanked her possessively to him. She slid her arms around his slim waist and laid her head on his shoulder deciding not to be coy this time. They swayed to the music and she was certain, even though her eyes were closed and she didn't move her head from its resting place on his shoulder, that they were best dancing couple, and the best couple period at the party. They were graceful, beautiful together.
They were perfect for each other.
She sighed with contentment.
Zacharias moved her back gently and just stared at her for a moment. His eyes shined; his mouth formed a small smile. Finally, he spoke, "Do you still want to leave?"
She nodded, smiling seductively at him.
"Good, because now I want you to leave this party. And this dress." He was so arrogant, so possessive, so handsome, and so perfect.
She linked her arm in his, and pulled him toward the door. "I want out of this party and dress, too."