Disclaimer: Thank Craig Mccraken. I don't - nor will I ever - own the Powerpuff Girls.
A/N: geez I am sorry. That's all I have to say. Kinda busy with life and crap so yeah...
~ CHAPTER 22~
Steps
Brick was about to lose his mind. Completely, utterly, lose it. Butch was acting like an antisocial fool, the music was too goddamn loud, and he whenever he caught a glimpse of the orange haired princess—which was far too often for his liking—he would turn, biting back a groan.
He focused his attention back onto the bearded, lanky man in front of him. Brick scanned his eyes over the suit that fitted far too loosely on the duke's form, doing nothing to hide his poor posture and too-long arms. Somehow he was still babbling on about his wonderful, educated, niece who was "somehow still unwed", forcing Brick to nod his head with faked interest.
The poorly strung together jumble of words that went through one ear then out the other was irritating. He was almost on the brink of ever so regretfully informing the duke that he was engaged to the neighboring princess just to shut him up.
Almost, but not quite.
It would take more than just a pest of a man to make him announce his father's arrangements like they were something to brag about.
However, this conversation was still tiresome to the young prince. As soon as the there was a break in the duke's never-ending tidal wave of useless words, he excused himself.
The man's face fell, but Brick didn't care to converse with those that did nothing but talk about their own pathetic lives. He had made one step towards quieter company when the light clinking of metal on glass resounded through the room.
King Utonium stepped up onto the raised platform his throne resided upon, turning to face the crowd of finely dressed guests. Due to his slightly above average height, Brick could see Him give the king a curt nod.
Utonium cleared his throat before speaking, "As you may have heard, my eldest daughter Blossom," He raised his glass at the girl in the red dress, who smiled in return. "is to be wed to King Him's eldest son, Brick. We hope that the uniting of bloodlines would offer initiative for the ending of our war, and pave a path for a brighter, more prosperous future."
The room burst into applause, but murmurs flooded every corner when the clapping died down. The king of Aleton seemed indifferent enough to the speech; his daughter, however, strained a smile as her eyes tapered to slits. Plutonium, on the other hand, was grinning with such unnerving fervor it added to Brick's suspicion that he had never wanted to the war to end, only to grasp to the rush of adrenaline one felt whenever in both mental and physical battle with another.
"Now," Utonium began again, silencing the last commenters, "my daughter and Gadrea's prince shall have the first dance of the evening."
Brick felt the room turn unbearably cold but remained a neutral gaze. He could see Blossom stiffen, slowly turning towards him, her knuckles white as she gripped her dress. This was sure to be disastrous.
A space cleared in the center of the dance floor for the main show of the night. He made his way to the princess, the eyes meeting when they neared one another.
As if they had been dance partners for years, their hands clasped together the moment they stopped; his other to her waist, and hers to his shoulder.
The music started up again; a slow, soft waltz that drifted through the room like a midsummer breeze. Brick had heard this song a thousand times—practically memorized the notes after years of playing it on the violin and dreary dance lessons.
When the cue to take the first step sounded, they sprang into motion, the skirt of her dressing flaring as the clouded look in her eyes lifted.
Neither of the two dancers stumbled throughout all their spins and dips and water-like movements.
Brick had been expecting a crowd-pleasing performance from her, but he was still surprised at how well she managed to keep up with him.
A minute passed, the music was coming to an end. The crowd had begun to bore despite the flawless execution of each and every step. Out of his peripheral vision, Brick could see a some of the nobles in the back yawn, waving around their useless fans and muttering to one another. A burst of rage exploded in his chest.
With barely a second of hesitation, he spun her out in a wide arc that just barely grazed the first row of onlookers, the hem of her skirt going almost up to mid-calf.
He could feel the eyes of every one of them now; especially the disgusting, bright-eyed dukes and lords whose gaze traveled up her bare leg, a predatory grin barely concealed under that facade of dignity.
He felt his mouth tighten and twitch with irritation, felt his grip turn to iron against her hand, felt those perverse men look down as he shot invisible daggers of fire at them.
Satisfaction washed over him, but he still held the gaze of anyone who dared to stare too long or peer too closely.
At long last he angled his line of sight back towards his dance partner, supporting her weight with his hand, her bright pink eyes as large as a doe's, a faint pink dusting her cheeks.
Flames. Hot, burning flames licked the inside of her chest. Blossom's breath caught in her throat when she twirled outwards, her fingertips brushing the coat of a noble before being snapped back into Brick's arms.
She looked up in surprise and saw his slightly narrowed eyes focused on those gathered around as they continued to move in rhythm.
All he cares about is impressing them, Blossom scoffed in her head, the contempt she felt anchoring her back to reality.
He suddenly sidestepped; the change in direction causing her to narrowly miss the last step, but he covered up her mistake by dipping her low, his hand on the small of her back and face inches from hers.
Her thoughts fled in panic at the barely existent space between them and she fought desperately to keep the blush from rising but to no avail. The corners of his mouth tugged up in what could've been a sneer or a smile, his piercing red gaze focused on her.
The music slowly faded, and the pair straightened as applause swept the room. Her eyes lingered on him for a fleeting moment, but she quickly composed herself and curtsied for the crowd. Brick bowed slightly, and she felt her nostrils flare a bit at the disrespect and arrogance.
The room returned to normal, a small circle cleared around the pair. She sucked her lips in, the vibrant colors around her blurring together in an formless painting.
Should she make conversation with him?
No, of course not, the voice in her head flooded her mind.
"No, of course not," she whispered.
Go. Go. Talk. Talk. Go.
Those words pulsed through the ballroom: through the floors, through the air, through the people, through her.
The voice of reason that had guided her for years faded into the background, replaced by this irrational, impossible thought.
Go.
The world her sharpened—almost as if she'd put on a pair of spectacles, bringing clarity to her mind.
She made to turn towards him, to confront him about that magnificent dance, to try harder to make things work—
A gown so red that it made her's seem like faded roses blinded her line of sight. A beautiful—beautiful like a lie, beautiful like the dark of the night—girl clad in blood that curved around her form stalked up to Brick.
Her fierce orange hair cascaded down her back, yet did little to cover how exposed her dress was. Blossom wasn't sure how anyone allowed one to enter this party wearing the off shoulder piece with the back open up to just above her behind
The girl threw a look at Blossom—who was nearly a hand shorter—that made the princess boil.
Her velvet red eyes narrowed as her head whipped around to face the prince again.
"Sooooooo, Brick," her lips parted to reveal a row of perfect white teeth, and the way she unnecessarily dragged out the word made Blossom's blood curdle.
A small smirk, however, played across the boy's mouth.
"Hello, Berserk."
Berserk? Berserk Plutonium? Blossom's shoulders raised involuntarily at the name. Why anyone would name a child "Berserk" was beyond her. It was such a derogatory term.
Berserk's grin widened, a hint of madness in her eyes. "How about one last dance before you get shackled to Utonium?"
Her thumb insulted the shorter girl's face, a blatant jab meant to rule her up more.
But Blossom knew when and where things should be done, and this was not one of those times. With a very much strained nod she made her way to her place next to Bubbles, who gripped her in excitement.
"You were fantastic out there!"
"I didn't know he could dance like that!"
"Oh Blossy, I wish I looked as pretty as you."
They were no more echoes of nothingness to Blossom's ears. She was focused intently on the couple in the center of the dance floor.
Berserk leaned close to whisper something in Brick's ear, her diamond earrings glinting under the light of the chandelier.
She stepped back, her eyes alive and blazing. The pair of bright red orbs swept the room, and a large circle cleared once again.
Another waltz started, though this time instead of a breeze it was a storm.
The wildfire of their movements set the floor ablaze.
Blossom struggled to look away, to forget about the way Berserk had hooked her leg around Brick's, how he grinned fiercely when she did so, how they struck the mouths of others open.
But she couldn't. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the tendrils of fire that licked the floor when the pair moved. She couldn't.
The music thudded in her brain, the notes of the piano and each time the bow struck the violin filling her mind, the figures continuing to spin.
It stopped. As abruptly as it had begun, the music and the tapping of heels faded like a winter sunset. Silence swallowed the room.
Then the whispers began. All around her, the people began to talk. Never ending voices that screamed louder than any song.
"She was much better than the other one."
"Together those two would be indomitable."
"Such passion—the makings of a great king and queen,"
Blossom caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth before Berserk pressed herself against Brick, whispering something into his ear again. For a second she thought she saw his brows furrow.
The red-eyed girl's face hardened and she growled something to him before closing the space between their lips.
And lingered. She lingered for far too long. He let her for too long.
In a moment of complete lack of rational thought, Blossom turned on her heel and strode through the crowd, all the way out the door.
She didn't get far.
From her peripheral vision, she could see two slim figures slink towards her, the light from the party casting pitch black shadows onto the cobblestone. Her pace quickened and she looked straight ahead.
The clicking of their heels followed.
"Hello, Utonium." A female voice murmured, the words curling around Blossom's shoulders, sending shivers up her spine as their eyes met.
"Brat."
The blonde smirked. Behind her, Blossom could see the glowing green eyes of Brute, the other Plutonium sister. Her dark hair was cut short, and the seething glare she shot at the girl in pink was unsettling.
"And Brute."
A low rumbling came from the addressed, almost like a growl.
"Fancy running into you here, Blossom! Aren't you supposed to be inside like a good little girl?" Brat laughed.
"Aren't you?" The redhead shot back. This conversation was pointless and she wasn't about to waste her time entertaining a pair of bloodthirsty hounds.
Brat's deep blue eyes glimmered.
"I never said I was a good little girl."
Blossom's teeth clenched, and she felt her eye twitch.
"What do you want?"
A scoff, followed by the narrowing of eyes.
"I saw the way you were looking at Brick."
"I don't know what you're talking abo—"
"Doesn't matter, princess. He's off limits. You better stay away from him and our sister."
"Or else," Brute spoke finally, the darkness in her words the only explanation needed.
Blossom felt her anger rise. "Off limits? You think I want to be around him? You think I want to be engaged that egotistic elitist? What do you expect me to do? Never talk to him again? To create further tension between the kingdoms?"
"A romantic relationship is not needed for a successful marriage. Don't cross the line and nothing will happen to you or your family." Brat's features dropped the sly, teasing façade and turned cold.
This was too far and too much. Blossom could not believe what the two girls in front of her were saying. This was insanity. It had been insanity ever since that stupid peace talk with Gadrea.
"Fine," she snarled, pushing past the pair.
Brat and Brute remained there with no intention of following, four glowing eyes against the shadows of the castle. After the other girl disappeared into the distance both of them turned back to the party, satisfied.
"We can keep doing this," she whispered into his ear, her breath warm. "Your little arrangement with the princess of Selodia doesn't have to affect our relationship, Brick. I forgive you for that idiotic ordeal, it's all just an act after all. Underneath the layers of false stability, we can keep seeing each other. You want that, don't you?"
Brick hesitated.
He should be saying yes. He should be glad that Berserk was so cunning and understood his situation. He should be. But he wasn't.
Berserk's grip on his tunic tightened, and her stare the color of fresh blood on white snow. With unnecessary violence she pulled him closer, forcing their mouths together.
And he felt his eyes widen, felt his shoulders rise in surprise, then felt himself giving into that feeling. The feeling of anger and pain and wildness that he bathed in his younger years. His body relaxed, his lids drooping as he leaned into the kiss.
No. The quiet voice inside of him muttered.
No. No.
His eyes snapped open.
Struggling against her iron hold, Brick managed to push her away.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, wiping furiously at his mouth.
Berserk didn't respond, her fingers reaching up to touch her red lips. She raised her head at him and grinned.
"What you want me to do."
- end of chapter 22 -
