TWS: This fic was inspired by tumblr user wqrner's idea (if Juliette wore a Filipiniana attire while Warner wore barong tagalog), and since we were both proud Filipinos I decided to write a fic based on their idea. You can search what these things look like online, but let me tell you one thing: you can never see me wear a Filipiniana unless it's for a school event. Last time I wore one was, like, 5 years ago or more.

This is a third person P.O.V. and tends to switch in the most subtle way every now and then.

Disclaimer: Everything but the story isn't mine. Credits for the idea go to tumblr user wqrner

Prompt 4: Under Certain Circumstances

He had never wanted to be involved in an arrangement such as this, but somehow he couldn't deny his parents' request. He was never forced into doing it, but somehow he never felt remorse for his action, especially with the knowledge that he may never be happy in the future. What pissed him off, though, was the fact that his parents never told him that he was already betrothed to someone before he was even born.

And although he'd rather spend the entire day on Tumblr or reading a book or something, he is left standing in the middle of an extremely large and luxurious dining hall with hundreds of unfamiliar people all around him.

(Seriously, do arranged marriages still exist in 2014? Especially here, in the Philippines?)

With him as a living proof, then the answer must be yes.

Aaron shifted his weight on his right foot, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to stop the itch his attire's sleeves were giving him (it was the first time her wore barong tagalog in his entire life). The thing was uncomfortable to wear, but he was grateful that the material of the thing wasn't to thick, and that he was allowed to wear an undershirt, or else he would've ended up itching the entire night.

It would only be a few minutes until his future partner, Juliette, would arrive. Like him, Juliette was also only half-Filipino, her father being French-American, thus the surname Ferrars. He had heard many things about her. Her beauty and the way she's good at helping her family business, but what intrigued him though was that she was so intelligent that she could convince adults into agreeing with her opinions and statements, and that was something that was hard to do for people their age. Adults never trusted opinions made by their children, especially when it involved politics (God knows that every now and then a teenager finds a way to prevent corruption in this country, but people won't listen to them).

He continued watching the different guests chatter about the most random things, their voices loud and deafening that he couldn't even hear what the group nearest him were talking about. Silence was always his best friend (well, aside from Adam) and he had been missing its company since the moment he stepped into the room. He wanted to walk away from his spot, maybe get a drink or find his mother when his eyes landed on a certain young girl with brown hair, and he knew then that that was her.

And she was so beautiful.

He'd seen and heard about her many times in pictures and stories filled with praise. He even knew her social website addresses (and, yes, her Tumblr because his parents told him to make sure he knew everything about her) and he knew that she was a pretty girl, but nothing compared to seeing her in person. They always said that pictures from a camera wasn't the same as seeing something or someone in the flesh.

Beautiful wasn't even enough to describe her, he thought to himself. And it wasn't even because of her face, her title or the way she looked so happy. It was the way he saw something inside of her, something he couldn't describe, that drew him to her like a moth drawn to flames. He didn't know why or how he could feel it, but he knew it was there, and it only brought him courage to approach the young woman.

Her thoughts must've done the same because the moment her eyes found his, she too had begun to lift her skirt and walk towards him (or maybe it was because he's the only one with blonde hair in the room? Funny if that was the case). It looked difficult and uncomfortable, her Filipiniana outfit, but if it was then she tried at her highest capacities to mask her discomfort.

In the end, they were both moths drawn to the flames in each other. It was funny how, in this time, they have yet to find out what the flame was or why they were drawn to it, but the mysteries that they didn't know didn't hinder them from meeting somewhere in the middle of the room.

"Hello," he said first, quite unsure how to continue conversation. She squeaked a barely inaudible hello, bringing her hand up to shake his, but as he took it he surprisingly leaned down to kiss the back of her hand. Such gestures were things Filipinos were unaccustomed too, but it was also a reminder that a part of their blood also belonged somewhere else.

"So you're Aaron Warner?" he nodded.

"It's a pleasure to meet you then. I'm-"

"Juliette Ferrars," he says, smiling what he hopes is his best smile. Hopefully there wasn't anything on his face right now; God knows causing embarrassing moments are his worst fears. "The pleasure is all mine, love."

She blushes when he calls her that, and makes his smile grow wider (maybe in the future I can keep calling her that). "I do hope that this ... party is going well," she says, nodding towards the hungry-looking guests by the buffet table before bringing her gaze back to him. Says, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, thanks." A pause. "Though with everything that's happening..."

"The arrangement," she says, a look of understanding crossing her face. "And all for the sake of business and politics. Is your girlfriend alright with the situation?"

"I don't have a girlfriend, actually, and I don't think I would ever have one because you had already been introduced as my fiancée as a child." His words had sounded bitter, and he has never felt much regret in his entire life until now.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Mr. Warner-"

"Please," he interrupts, "call me Aaron. I'm still a teenager, both of us are, and I'm pretty sure formalities could be put aside. It brings me more comfort to call people by their first names. So please, Juliette, call me Aaron." He has dimples, she thinks, and if that kind of smile has never made girls grow weak in the knees, she wouldn't believe it.

"Aaron," it's a name unfamiliar to her lips, and she says it like it's an unusual taste on her tongue, but soon this name would be one that she'll remember forever and call out everyday. She tries to say something, a question, but the words were blocked by the deafening sounds echoing throughout the room.

"What?" He yells. Looks at the terrace doors and points to it. "Would you mind taking this conversation outside? If you don't mind, of course." The boy offers his hand to her and she looks at it, not used with such a gentlemanly gesture. She's been courted many times in her life, both by boys outside and inside her campus, but she has never accepted any of their courting, never reciprocated their feelings, because she knew then that her heart should belong to the man her parents had told her to marry.

What she doesn't know, though, that in the future she will look back at her teenager years and tell him that she has never regretted closing her heart from others. She will tell him that she never regretted giving her heart to him, that even under certain circumstances she had never force herself to unconditionally love her future husband because she's already fallen for him from the start.

And then he will tell her then that it never mattered if they were arranged together from the start because he had never been forced to fall for her, that she had done it on her own just by her smile and the way she looks at him with so much love and care. He will tell her that no matter how many lifetimes, how many different situations, love will always find away to bring them together. Juliette looks up at him and smiles. It's a smile that makes the stars and the moon fail in comparison and makes any other woman jealous of this young girl's radiance, and he has never been more grateful to see something such as this.

"Okay," she tells him, taking her hand in his and letting her fiancé lead the way into the night.

A/n: Does it look rushed? Yes. Is it rushed? Maybe.

So anyways, that's that. A new fic will (hopefully) be posted before the week, seeing as I'm going to Seoul, Korea tonight. If you have any recommendations on where I could go to or buy fandom stuff, don't be shy to tell me.

Prompts? Ideas? Talk to me? PM me here or leave a message at my tumblr account: aaron-warner