Dancing to mariachi music:
It was slightly cold out on the streets, with only a few people scattered around here and there. The sky was a deep, dark blue, almost black, a glistening tapestry of stars. The chilly air hung around, and people walking there clutched their jackets tighter.
Inside the huge mansion, where the private party was taking place, it was hot and humid. No one knew a thing about the weather and no one cared. A mariachi band stood in the corner. The man with the shakers looked like he wanted to go hide under a stone and never come out. The drapes were of a maroon-ish color, gold zigzag designs plastered on the walls. The two big tables on the side were cluttered with all kinds of alcohol.
One thought ruled over all others. This was the best after party anyone had ever been to.
A pizza man danced on the other side of the room, six boxes of pizza, two full and four empty were stacked in the corner. People cheered loudly, as someone who was most likely tone-deaf sang Adele's 'rolling in the deep.'
Elijah's jacket lay draped on a sofa somewhere. Now, he could be found with his sleeves folded up to his elbows, as he danced with Hayley. To mariachi music. No one knew exactly how she'd gotten the eldest mikealson, who was usually so dignified, to dance.
She'd worn a plain black skirt and a red sleeveless top. At first, she hadn't bothered dancing, but then looking at everyone letting go, she'd decided to relax a little and have fun. And then she'd seen the oh-so-noble Elijah standing in the corner. She'd walked over, offering her hand to him, raising her eyebrows, her eyes full of eagerness and excitement. He'd first said no, but after a little more pleading, he'd agreed, and that was how they were twirling around, her skirt ruffling because of the air. They were dancing to mariachi music.
On the other side of the wolf and vampire dancing, a human and a hybrid danced. Camille was laughing at the fun she was having, and Klaus twirled her around, faster than humanly possible. Her hair was pulled back from the top, and the rest of it hung loose against her neck. She hadn't stayed up this late to party, ever, but now she would. She squealed loudly, the soles of her heels wearing out, but didn't stop. Klaus laughed too, the music louder than ever.
Someone punched guy-Adele in the corner, and more people cheered.
Rebekah stood in the corner of the room, seething. It was annoying to stand there alone, but even more to see her two brothers who hadn't had any action in months, dance their feet off. She was furious, stealing malicious glances on everyone who seemed to be having fun. "Is there no one who I can dance with?" she said out loud, sure that no one would here her.
"You called?" the oh-so-familiar voice prompted.
Rebekah turned, her blonde hair moving with accordance to her neck. "Marcel Gerard. Not even if I'm dying." She said, a bittersweet smile masking her features.
"Come on, Bekah. Dancing with me is better than standing there trying to melt people's minds with your eyes." He said, teasing. She scoffed, nevertheless taking his hand as he led her to the dance floor.
Slowly though, they got lost there. In the room with the mariachi band and pizzas stacked in the corner. And suddenly something happened that no one would dare say, or think about.
They were happy again.