15. Dancing

Alicia Blade

424 words

I don't know who he is, but I must be in love with him. He found me not ten minutes after I had gotten to the Diamond Ball, dressed in a tuxedo and mask, like all the other men. And a cape, like no one else.

He's tall, towering over me as we dance. His hands are warm and large and pull me close and hold me gently against his chest, and dip me against the empty air and twirl me so that my dress swirls around my legs. When I smile, he smiles, and his lips and teeth are divine, and the dimples in his cheeks so honest, and he looks happy. He feels happy, his feet light on the marble floor. He laughs and I laugh and we're perfect together. I don't know where my friends have gone. I know only that I never want this night to end.

Another song fades to an end, but a tolling clock in the distance—only two echoing rings—alerts the dancers that it was the last song. The ball is over. I feel like a tardy Cinderella.

We stop dancing and my feet begin to throb almost immediately. I'd forgotten that they were even attached to me the last few hours. Ignoring them for a little longer, I tilt my head up to see him looking at me, the hint of a smile left, but now with undertones of sorrow and regret. I gulp, wondering if we're over already. Could this perfection be made only for one night a year?

I hold my breath as he leans down, brushing his cheek against mine. I close my eyes, lift my arms around his shoulders and eagerly clench my fingers around the material of his jacket. Don't let him leave. Don't let my first love leave me so soon.

"Thank you for a wonderful night," he murmurs into my ear, sending chills along my neck and tears filling up my eyes. He's leaving me, and I haven't told him yet. The roles are reversed: I'll have no shoe to find him at the end of this fairy tale.

"Thank you," I whisper sadly, inadequately back.

Pulling away, he faces me, brushing his nose against mine. My eyes still closed, I smile. But I do love him.

"And you look beautiful tonight…" he says, his voice briefly choking up. I open my mouth to reply, but he continues, "Odango Atama."

My gasp is cut short by his divine lips tenderly pressing onto mine, and then he's gone.