A/N: Sorry, i havent updated for a while; i've been somewhat busy. Enjoy this next chapter !
"I…" I turned to look at my mother, who was nodding furiously. Embarrassed, I turned again to face the handsome stranger. "I would love to," I replied with a monotone voice. Though I had learned to dance with the best during my young ages, I was always afraid I would slip and fall.
I took his outstretched hand and we walked to the dance floor, passing by my beaming mother.
EPOV
As we walked to the dance floor, I couldn't help but notice how incredibly beautiful she was. Though I could not see her whole face, her chocolate brown eyes and hair, and the way her cheeks would fill with colour was enough to get my stomach churning.
We started the dance out slow, for she seemed incredibly nervous. She wouldn't look at me, instead, she was closely concentration on her footwork, and however, it was already perfect. I decided to lighten up the mood.
"You seem the sheltered kind, those who are not likely to follow tradition,"
"Well that shows you how much you know." She replied coarsely.
"Many say I know quite a lot for my age, I'll have you know." She snorted.
"The day an intelligent, handsome man finds his way London…" She said sneeringly, snorting once again.
"You think I'm handsome, then?" She did imply so.
"Ugh!" She groaned, making a funny face. I tried not to laugh.
"Your not that bad of a dancer," I teased, she was one of the best, I could stay here forever. She looked up at me and narrowed her eyes.
"Excuse me?" She said, trying to act brave, when in truth, she was as harmless as a kitten. "I've learned to dance from the best. You're not that bad yourself," She added sneeringly. I chuckled, she was very humorous.
"Why thank you, ma'am." I replied politely, holding back another laugh.
"You don't have to call me ma'am." She replied, the red creeping into her cheeks.
"What may I call you, then?" I replied. I was curious to know her name.
"Isabella Swan, you may just call me Bella," She replied thoughtfully. The smile disappeared from my face. She was one of the daughters of Renee Swan, one of the richest women in town. I believe, almost as rich as my best friend, Jasper, the same Jasper who has been so kind to me and my family? Isabella Swan. I would most likely never see her again.
It felt as if my heart had dropped a funny thing for someone I had only known for a few minutes. Her mother wouldn't allow it. I had doubts, if she knew who I really was; she would never look at me again. It was not her place to be with those of a lower class; with me, a kitchen boy.
It was humourless to see how we had gotten from where we were to where we are now. More than a decade ago, when I was too young to understand, my dear mother Esme, my father's heart and soul, had been kidnapped. I had seen my father at his worst during this time. He would stay in his room without food or drink, simply crying. A few days after the incident, we received a letter. The letter required a large sum of money in return for my mother back, safe and sound. Though we were one of the richest families in the New World, we did not have enough. But my father would do anything. He borrowed money from another family and gave away every single penny of our own money. I remember when we moved to a much smaller house. I had complained a lot of the things I had lost, the lack of food we had, it was natural; I was only six. But the look of sorrow in my father's eye managed to keep me quiet. At night, when it was too cold, he would take me into his arms and sing me a lullaby.
"Daddy's still here, mommy's only gone for the moment. Hush little baby, everything will be alright. Daddy's here to hold you through the night; Mommy's not here right now, and we don't know why (Mockingbird, Eminem). I'd do anything for you to see you smile, keep smiling." He would usually end this lullaby in tears. It broke my heart to see him this way. And that was when I decided to stop complaining, and keep smiling for him, the best father in the world.
Once we had enough money, we exchanged it for my mother. It was the happiest I had ever seen him in my life. The bags under his eyes began to disappear and he became noticeably happier. There was still one problem, however. We were extremely poor, and we had a pending loan to pay off. In the New World, more and more people were becoming poor, some due to the same reason as us; the crime rate was going up exponentially. Even through the bad times, going to bed without a bite to eat, I knew we did the right thing. My father had always told me that money was only worth as much as one believes, and that it shouldn't be worth more than your loved ones. We had our mother back, and my father was happy, that was all I could ask for.
Soon I had to start working as well, but the loan seemed as if it would never be paid off. A storm hit, then. It blew our house into rubble, giving me the worst sickness ever. Yet, we could not afford a doctor. A month I had managed to hold on to the last strands of my life when a miracle came into our lives. A rich young man, only a year older than I, about the age of 12, came with his wealthy parents to the New World. I met Jasper one day when I was lying out in the sun, for my body temperature was rapidly decreasing. We were instantly friends, even though I was practically dying. Jasper went to his parents that night and told him our story.
His parents paid off our debt and medical bills for me. I was better in a few weeks, and we no longer had the burden of debt over our head. Jasper and I became the best of friends ever since. At the age of 18, his parents died, leaving him their vast fortunes. Up till a couple of months ago, when he was at the age of 20, and I at 19, Jasper decided to move to London, for conditions there were much better than here. Jasper was to buy a grand house on the outskirts of London and wanted us to come live with him as well. My parents agreed, on one condition. They were so grateful for his help, for the fact that I was alive, that they wouldn't move with Jasper unless he agreed to let us work in his home. At first, Jasper disagreed almost instantly, but because we were his family, and he wanted us to be there, he agreed. He wouldn't let us think of ourselves as kitchen boys or workers, they would always be enough food, and enough clothing, thanks to Jasper, and so I would work here without complain. He has given us so much for so less, it is as my father always says, money is not more important then your loved ones.
And so we moved here, the quaint town of London, while I stood here in front of this beautiful woman, Bella, a women way out of my league. Even though I believe what my father says, in a world run by money, your status matters just as much as your personality or looks. Bella spoke, breaking my sorrowful flashback.
"May I know who you are?" She said, stopping. I hadn't realized the song was over. I thought about what I should tell her. I wasn't ready to tell her the truth of who I was yet.
"I… am merely a man in a mask." I replied vaguely. [Yes, this part is from V for Vendetta]
"I can see that," she replied dryly.
"Well, I wasn't saying otherwise, I was simply mentioning the paradox of asking a masked man who he is." I said, smiling. I could tell her breathing stopped for a mere second. She narrowed her eyes, and walked past me to the food tables. I matched her pace. She shot me a sidelong glance before sitting down at an empty table. She put a small piece of bread onto her plate. I sat back to watch her. Before she took a bite, she looked at me again. The brown chocolate of he eyes melting into mine.
"Won't you eat something?" She said, suspiciously. I wasn't going to blow my cover and tell her I shouldn't be eating until the ball was over.
"Um, I'm not exactly hungry," I replied, flashing another smile. Her narrowed eyes didn't leave mine as she took the first few bites of bread. Her mother was searching the crowd behind her, pulling Alice Swan behind her. Jasper was there as well, he looked slightly dazed and he waved her goodbye while she giggled. Her mother spotted her and came over to pull her away. She curtsied to me quickly.
"Goodnight" Bella said, refusing to let the suspicion leave her eyes.
"To you as well, Miss Bella Swan." Soon she disappeared. I stared dreamily after her, just as Jasper did for Alice, taking a seat beside me.
"Absolutely…" Jasper started, still dazed.
"Beautiful," I finished for him, sighing.
BPOV
"Who was that young man?" My mother asked as we entered our home.
"I don't know," I replied rudely, heading to my room.
"Do you think…?" She said, her voice trailing off.
"No!" I replied, slamming the door to my room shut.
I searched under my mattress, pulling out my diary. I fetched my pen from my desk and opened up to an empty, white page.
Dear Diary,
He may be handsome, but he thinks he is so clever. One of the most impertinent, arrogant men I have ever had the misfortune to meet!!
Bella Swan.
A/N: Review, please ! I'll try to update as soon as possible.
