Disclaimer: Maleficent and its characters belong to Disney.
Note: Here is the new chapter! My favorite so far!
SwanMillsFiction: You asked for a date, you are getting a date!
man·ner
(n.) 1. the prevailing customs, ways of living, and habits of a people, class, period
2. ways of behaving with reference to polite standards; social comportment
Diaval is sitting on his best friend's couch, holding a bottle of beer in his hands. It has been a long time since he last came here to help her prepare for a date. And this date is different from all the - not so many - others; from the restaurant to the outfit, everything needs to be perfect for the public and the media. Only for the media. The man sighs. Aurora should not have to go through such a situation just because her father doesn't know anything about how to be a good parent, or because Mal's only interest is in destroying Stefan's business. Maybe one of the two idiots will realize that what they are doing is wrong.
"Do you think I should have bought flowers?" Mal asks as she walks towards him, tying her hair in a tight bun.
Diaval shakes his head.
"You look too strict, Mal. You're going to terrorize the girl and make her think of one of her professors."
Ms. Moore looks down at her outfit; an all buttoned-up white shirt tucked in skinny black pantsuit with a tailored black jacket and a thin tie of the same color. Maybe her typical "business look" is not such good idea after all.
"What should I wear then, Mr. Genius?"
Diaval gets up from the couch clumsily, his legs numb from staying in the same position for too long. He loosens the tie and takes it off, unbuttons the first few buttons of his boss' shirt and unties her bun without any warning.
"Shake the hair, go put on your usual killer lipstick and you'll be good to go!"
Ms. Moore goes away, letting Diaval stand alone awkwardly in the middle of the room.
"Thanks, Diaval. I would have never been able to do it without you. You're the best friend anyone could dream of and I don't deserve you, Diaval…"
"I heard you."
"How about this one? Do you think she'll like it?"
Aurora gets out of her bedroom for the fifth time wearing a different dress. This one is baby blue embroidered with pale golden flowers, the cleavage discreet but impossible to ignore. It is the shortest dress she's tried, stopping just above the knees. Her nannies are waiting at the kitchen table, looking more nervous than Aurora, with Phillip who has his mouth agape - again.
"It sure is short," Mrs. Knotgrass comments, visibly unsettled by the outfit.
"It's not that short!" Mrs. Thistlewit exclaims. Aurora shakes her head, knowing very well this is going to end in an argument between the three women, even if Mrs. Flittle has yet to speak. She simply turns to Philip.
"What do you think, Phillip?"
"I like it!"
The three nannies turn in perfect synchronization to face the boy, ready to kick him out of the apartment - because no matter how much they would rather have Aurora marry him than Ms. Moore, they never liked the way he looked at their precious little princess at times. A ringtone interrupts Philip's eventual murder.
"You still have Once Upon A Dream as your ringtone?" Phillip asks, dumbfounded.
Aurora ignores her best friend and runs back to her bedroom, where she left her shoes - the most uncomfortable looking high heels Philip has ever seen.
"Ms. Moore is early, she's waiting outside, I've got to go now! I'll see you all tomorrow!"
"What!? You're not coming back tonight-"
Aurora closes the door after waving and smiling politely, relieved for an excuse to avoid their reaction to being to she is spending the night at a complete stranger's. She rushes to the stairs, shoes in one hand, purse in the other, knowing very well that the elevator is still out of service.
Ms. Moore has been waiting outside, leaning against her car, for over five minutes when Aurora opens the doors of the building, putting on her second shoe and smoothing her dress.
"Good evening, Ms. Moore."
"You might want to start calling me Mal, Aurora."
Aurora nods and walks to the passenger door, followed by the older woman, who opens it for her in a swift move.
A heavy silence dominates the ride and Aurora fidgets constantly in her seat, shuffling even more every time Ms. Moore- Mal glances her way. She tries to distract herself, wondering where the nickname could come from. A shortened version of her first name maybe -Malena? Amalia? The car comes to a complete stop and Aurora sighs, relieved. Mal locks their arms together when they get out of the car and guides her to a restaurant; the Bella Notte.
"Are we really going in there?"
"Why are you so surprised? Do you not want to go?"
Some of her friends have told her about this restaurant, about how expensive and romantic it was. Cinderella always says that a date there can only be perfect, for any couple. This is a bold move on Mal's part; Aurora is certain that if they are seen by some member of the paparazzi tonight, there will be no escape.
Aurora lets out a gasp of surprise as soon as they enter the Bella Notte and clenches her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. She never imagined the restaurant to be so luxurious, always thinking Cinderella was exaggerating every time she mentioned it. But even her father never brought her to such a place. From what Aurora can see, there three floors: one under them, the other above them. A huge crystal chandelier that Aurora can't look away from goes through the highest floor.
"Mrs. Moore. May I guide you to your table?" a charming young man wearing a suit asks.
"It's Ms. Moore. At least for the moment," Mal corrects the waiter, giving a quick glance to Aurora, making her blush.
Both women follow the waiter up the stairs to a table for two against the glass balustrade. Aurora watches Mal pull out her chair for her and thanks her with a surprisingly shaky voice. The waiter announces he will be back to take their orders before giving a sligh bow and walking away.
There is a long moment of silence during which Aurora carefully avoids looking at Mal by examining every intricate detail of the chandelier or reading the menu. She knows the older woman is observing her - and that she is not the only one. Other clients sometimes glance their way and start whispering, and Aurora does not find this surprising: how could these uptight and wealthy couples not find two women on a date in an five-star restaurant a sight worth talking about? Aurora is certain her father would do the same if he was there.
"Don't think about them."
Aurora looks up at Mal.
"They are only bored of their perfect lives."
"May I ask you a question?"
The older woman smirks and opens her mouth before immediately closing it, as if stopping from making a comment. She then simply nods.
"You opened the car door for me, you pulled out my chair but when we entered the restaurant you went in first..." Aurora's voice trails off.
"This is not question," Mal comments, quirking an eyebrow.
"Why was it the only non "gentlemanly" gesture you made? If there really is a reason to it, of course!" The girl chuckles nervously.
Ms. Moore seems to be thinking about a response to give but their waiter is back before she can speak.
"Aurora, what do you wish to order?"
The girl's mouth is agape and she stutters a few words before finally being able to form an answer.
"I- I thought you would order for me... Sorry..."
A small smile appears on Mal's lips. She glances between their hands resting on the table and then up into Aurora's panicked eyes. Mal waits for her to nod before linking their fingers together, rubbing circles on Aurora's pale skin with her thumb.
"I am not your father. Taking decisions from you is not something I enjoy doing."
It took some time to Aurora to forget the comment Ms. Moore made about her father. As right as she was when she said her father often decided for her, it sounded like pure provocation. What happened between them to create such disrespect?
"It is an old tradition."
Aurora startles and stares at Ms. Moore, blinking in confusion.
"You asked why I entered the restaurant before you. It is because my father always told me that a real gentleman had to enter first in public places so all the attention would fall on him, not his partner."
All Aurora can do is smile and nod. There is something about the fact that it is the first piece of personal information Mal has shared with her that tells the girl talking would ruin the intimacy of the moment.
Aurora leans her forehead against the window of the car, looking outside at the brightly lit streets. Beside her Mal is back to silent, concentrated on driving. Dinner was far from terrible; with good Italian food and basic conversation to get to know each other, they were able to enjoy it. At least Aurora enjoyed it. Mal's face was just as stoic and impossible to read as it was during their first meeting. It is only when they pass her building that the girl remembers she is not sleeping in her bed tonight. She squirms a little in her seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Is she to sleep with Ms. Moore? She feels her cheeks burning and she knows she is blushing so much even her ears must be turning red. This can't be good for her, she does not want Mal to find out how inexperienced she is and to think she's a baby. But unlike all her friends - with the exception of Phillip of course - she never had a boyfriend, never dated. Do a few kisses during Truth or Dare count as experience? She almost falls over when Mal opens the passenger door.
"Aurora? Is everything all right?"
"Of course! I was just… thinking… about stuffs… college, you know?"
Mal nods and extends an arm to help Aurora out of the car. Ms. Moore's hand is cold but so soft Aurora does not want to let go, and neither does the older woman apparently, as she intertwines their fingers when they leave the underground parking lot. Aurora's breath catches in her throat when Mal leans closer, her lips inches away from her ear.
"It is already working," is the only thing she says, giving a quick glance a few feet in front of them, where a man dressed entirely in black is holding a camera.