A/N: Hello! I did slightly alter some small details of the basic Cinderella story, but everything is mostly the same. Please leave a review, as constructive criticism is always welcome.
~Peanutbuttercup
The Night of the Ball
Hesitantly, she walks down the hall, gown rustling with her movements. When she reaches the ballroom doors she pauses. She will go in unannounced. After all, no one is supposed to know that she is here. Raising a slender hand, callused from work, she pushes the doors open. Breathing faster, Cinderella enters the ballroom.
For a minute she stands there, bathed in the soft glow of the candles. Couples dancing pause to look at her, and she wonders why they do. Her uncertainty does not last long, because there, in the middle of the ballroom, faking a smile and dancing with her eldest stepsister, is the man from the market. The one that helped her up when someone shoved her aside. He is staring at her, and Cinderella catches her breath. She remembers that he cannot recognize her, for tonight she looks like a princess and not a servant, but now he is walking towards her, and she stays where she is, outshining everyone in the room….
The Prince- for that is who he is- stops in front of her, lightly grasping her hand in his own. "Enchanted," he murmurs, lips brushing her hand, gaze locked on her own. Cinderella sinks down in a graceful curtsy, skirts whispering. The whole ballroom seems to disappear as the Prince leads her to the dance floor, and they are the only two people that matter.
They dance slowly; the room is quiet, holding it's breath as the couple dances. They stare into each others eyes, lost in the moment, wondering if this is what love feels like….
Cinderella's Prince leans closer, the seemingly nonexistent guests at the ball whispering and pointing, wondering and second guessing what is going to happen next.
Cinderella's eyes close, the Prince's lips barely brush her own, giving her what she believes to be the sweetest kiss in all of history.
The clock strikes midnight and her eyes fly open. "I'm sorry," she whispers as pulls away, "I have to go." Cinderella looks back as she exits the ballroom, her Prince's hand outstretched, shock and sadness etched on his face, as he watches her leave. He realizes what is happening, cannot let go of his newfound love, and comes after her.
As Cinderella trips on the steps, vision blurry with the tears of leaving him, her glass slipper slides off her foot, pale and glittering in the silver moonlight. She doesn't have time to retrieve it, and chokes back a sob as her gown disappears, her golden hair falling down. But her other slipper stays, and she places it gently in her apron pocket, a sweet reminder of the night she fell in love. Cinderella trudges on, not looking back when her Prince bends down and picks up her other slipper, wondering where his mysterious Princess has gone.
Cinderella reaches her home, a prison of stone walls and glass windows. She enters her small room, collapses on her pallet. But before her charade must end, she allows herself a small smile, falling asleep remembering the way her Prince's lips felt against hers….
They had been so enchanted with each other.