"Ah, the belle of the ball" Paris greeted them at the bottom of the stairs. "May I have the first dance?" He bowed, and kissed Juliet's hand. He was dressed as a king, probably only to try to impress Juliet. But she wasn't fooled. She peeked over his shoulder to get a look at the other dancers on the floor. One in particular caught her eye. He was dressed as a pirate, with a black skull and crossbones hat. His shaggy black hair fell to right above his blue eyes, which had a fire in them unlike one Juliet had ever seen.
"Juliet!" her mother hissed at her, "Smile!" Juliet thought that this would be the perfect time for some wry humor: "I would, mother, but that would kill me" she turned to Paris. "Excuse me, but there is someone I would like to talk to." She walked over to the pirate-boy. Her shoes clipped under her the whole way, and Juliet became self-conscious. What if he thought her dress was silly? What if he didn't like her? Juliet swallowed her feelings, and went before him. "Would you care to dance?" she asked him. "Why, with such a beautiful girl, it would be an honor." Juliet blushed furiously at his bold words, suddenly glad for the mask that hid half her face.
The boy (although one could hardly call him a boy) placed one hand on her waist and the other clasped her hand. They danced. They swished across the marble floor, perfectly in tune, gazing onto each others eyes. Juliet would have loved this moment to last forever. They waltzed along the floor, unaware of the people around them turning to stare. Unlike the two dancers, many others knew the house that each came from—one a Capulet, and the other a Montague. The houses of long feuds, where civil blood has long stained uncivil hands. But Juliet felt as though she was floating on air. That is, until Lady Capulet pulled her away. "You have been dancing with him far longer than necessary, dear" Lady Capulet whispered to her nervously. "Paris is waiting." Juliet, trying desperately to refrain from rolling her eyes, stopped her mother. "I do not feel as well, Mother. May I go to bed?" Her mother sighed. "One dance with Paris, Juliet" her mother told her firmly.
Juliet grudgingly made her way over to Paris. He was handsome, yes, with his blonde hair and hazel eyes. But nothing like the mysterious boy she had danced with before. "You may have this dance" she said politely, putting her hand out bluntly instead of the dainty way you were supposed to. They slowly danced, Paris asking questions and Juliet either dodging them or answering then as vaguely as possible. Finally, finally, the ball was over. Juliet didn't wait to say goodbye to people like she should when a ball was held in their house, but instead, rushed upstairs. She ran her hands along the cool stone as she climbed up the stairs, feeling the ragged surface. She ran breathlessly into her room, pulling off the mask and looking in the mirror. Her normally white cheeks were pink, flushed with excitement, and her brown hair was slightly mussed. The green eyes that were staring black at her were wandering inside her mind—investigating that pirate-boy that she had danced with. As Juliet sat down on the bed, her maid came in the room. "I can see, Miss", the maid started, "that you cannot stop thinking about him. Lady Capulet wishes you to not find out, but his name is Romeo." The maid left the room.
Juliet laid across the bed, facing the ceiling. Her hair fanned out around her. Romeo, Romeo. The name wormed its way around in side her before finding a path that led straight to her heart. He is the one. My true love.