I could say I wasn't feeling the party but that'd be an understatement.

Rushing waves of air attacked my hair as I carefully slipped off the tight heels my best friend, Caroline made me wear. It had been pinching my feet all day, and besides, I wasn't going to need it in this situation.

One thing I enjoyed about Virginia, was the wind, the lights and life. I shut my eyes as I inhaled the fresh air, the hotel Gahaldan was a personally perfect choice to hold the Winter Formal.

While I had been sipping something from the punch bowl, I watched my friends, their friends and just basically everyone, smiling and laughing. I had disappeared from the room and headed into the elevator, when I reached the top floor I made myself up to the roof, sneaking past security guards somehow.

I take slow steps toward the edge, swinging my legs over the ledge, only my hands clutching the metal railing. I suck in air through my teeth as cold wind slips through my toes, I shut my eyes-wondering how it would feel if I just...let go.

I released the railing from my death grip and I felt that rush, the flip-flop and vertigo that grips my stomach, my eyes snap open, I don't want to do this. But it's too late.

I've already let go.

A hard tug and suddenly everything pauses. My eyes suddenly open, I'm wondering if I'm lying on the ground, brain splattered on the pavement when I realize I'm hanging, and haven't yet reached the ground. Looking up I realize a hand is holding my own.

Holding me up.

I am suddenly tugged up fully and I collapse on the rooftop.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The voice is frightened and furious, I cough as I raise my eyes to meet a pair of ice-cold blue ones, looking into my own. "Did you slip?"

The person standing is wearing a black tuxedo, a messy shine of black hair on his head, I can't really make out his face because it's such a pale contrast with the moon directly behind his head. He's a glittering white smudge against the dark night.

"Oh, you-you didn't slip, did you?" I can imagine cogs thrumming to life in this person's head, those wide blue eyes are still frightened and wide. "You jumped." The person says.

I'm still silent, I don't want to say anything.

I feel ashamed for some reason.

"Here." The voice is much deeper now, determined. I feel my arms being gripped as I am pulled to my feet, in the process I'm nearly pressed against my savior, which allows me to take in the smell of coconuts and hand soap. "Get back to the dance, call your friends and go home."

The edges of my vision are still blurry and right now all I can see are those stone-cold eyes.

I am shoved toward the exit of the roof, and almost involuntarily I reach out and open the door.