Jean peeked past the curtains to the noise and bustle inside and hoped no one could see her. She'd snuck out onto the terrace, escaping the oppressive heat and drunken men and was enjoying the cool fresh air of the evening. Leave it to Susan Tynemann to stage a Masquerade Ball. Her parties were always too much, too loud, too big, this one being no exception and she was grateful that she had been able to slip away. She pushed her pink and gold butterfly mask up and itched her nose. A voice behind her made her jump.
"Who are you hiding from?"
Jean pushed her mask back down and spun around. A dark silhouette sat on the ledge of the balcony smoking a cigarette. "I beg your pardon?" she squinted into the dark trying to decipher who she was speaking to.
"I said, Who are you hiding from?" the figure repeated. His posture was calm and relaxed and he leant back on one hand, casually blowing his cigarette smoke into the breeze.
"No one in particular. Who are you hiding from?" Jean countered. She was slightly unnerved, still unable to see his face.
"Anyone. Everyone" the lazy voice replied. He uncrossed his legs and stood, stubbing out his cigarette and shoving his hands in his pockets. As he walked towards her, he finally came into the light and Jean couldn't help but gasp at the horned mask the man wore. Decorated with feathers it was the most grotesque and beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She was still however, perplexed as to who this man was. She could pick most people inside, even under their mask, by their voice, their stance, their walk, their hair, Susan was the one in the ridiculously elaborate gown and feathered mask, and Patrick was unmistakable due to his size. The man took another step towards her and she was suddenly scared. She was alone with a stranger. She took a step back.
"You needn't be frightened of me," the smooth voice cut through the night air as a breeze rustled through the great gum trees that lined the property. Jean realised the man was wearing an opera cape and she shivered involuntarily as it billowed out behind him. She was scared, but also slightly excited. The mystery of this man and his theatrical outfit sent a thrill down her spine and despite her reservations she felt herself stepping towards him. "Who are you?"
"Uh uh," the man grinned as he tutted his finger at her, "That's not the way masquerade balls work."
Jean hid her smile as he bent into a deep bow.
"Would you like to dance?" He extended his hand and without a thought, Jean took it. She was immediately swept into his arms and they began to move. The music wafting out onto the balcony was much quieter than it had been inside and Jean found it much more tolerable. The masked man was an accomplished dancer and she could tell by the way his body moved, that he understood music. Jean knew at once this man was no one she knew. All the men in town had danced with her at some stage or other and this was nothing like any of them. Somehow instead of making her nervous the knowledge of this made the whole thing more exciting. She felt pulled to him, and she admired the way he filled out his suit. He was not tall or skinny, but attractive and strong. She could feel his muscles through his suit and realised she was in danger of becoming quite attracted to this mystery man. Despite his dramatic appearance he wasn't loud or bombastic, but gentle and quiet.
The music changed to a slow waltz and his large hands pulled her close. His breath tickled her hair at her neck while their bodies swayed together, slowly in the moonlight. He hummed gently at her ear and Jean was pleased to find his voice tuneful. She felt safe in this unknown man's arms, she couldn't explain how or why. She closed her eyes.
"My name's Lucien" he whispered.
"Jean" she replied.