The Dance
Story and her family were invited to attend a ball. When they were about to step into the ballroom, a young man stopped them and held out a fish bowl full of small folded papers.
“Each of you must grab a number to determine your dance partner,” the man explained. “Please take one and show me the number. We’ll record it so you won’t be able to swap your number with the others.”
“What a way to kill the fun,” Daphne muttered in disbelief. She pushed her hand into the bowl, snatched a paper and showed him the number. “Three.”
Story did the same. “I got ten.”
“Thank you, Ladies. Have a good evening.”
Daphne scowled as the two of them sauntered into the ballroom. “I’m not in the mood to dance tonight. Should I just throw away the number and flee?”
“Why not?” Story chuckled as she linked her arm with Daphne’s. “Didn’t you do that when you were supposed to dance with that fine gentleman? What was his name again?”
“I don’t remember.” Daphne heaved a delirious sigh. “Grandmother was mad at me for a whole week after that. That was the most hellish week I had to endure.”
“I forgot why you didn’t want to dance with him.”
“He told me to stay at home and do chores instead of becoming an Auror. I wish I could just send him to hell and rot there.”
They went to get some drinks and walked around the ballroom to meet some friends. Mostly, they were Daphne’s friends that Story could coincidentally vibe with. Daphne was the one entertaining her friends while Story just listened like the others before having a small talk with anyone next to her for politeness. That time, they talked about the numbers they got and their potential partner. They squealed, sulked and grinned cheekily when they could predict who their partner was.
Meanwhile, Story was really clueless about her partner. She wandered around the ballroom, holding out her number so it would be easier for someone to see.
“So, you’re the one with number ten.”
She looked up. Malfoy stood before her deliciously in his black tailcoat and white shirt with black bowtie. As usual, his hair was slick and pushed to the back. His eyes were the colour of a calm storm which promised a ray of sunshine afterwards. She swore she would believe him if he told her that he became a model after graduating from Hogwarts. He showed his number with ten clearly written on the paper.
“Hi,” she greeted while trying not be awkward. She kept reminding herself that it wasn’t her first meeting with the heir to the wealthiest pureblood family. “I clearly didn’t think of you when I tried to guess who my partner was.”
“Neither did I.” Malfoy crumpled the paper and pocketed it in his pants. “What are the odds?”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“But I’m glad I got you.”
She felt a tug in her chest. “Me? Why?”
“I’ve seen you dance before. I believe that you won’t step on my feet later.”
It took a moment for her brain to process before she couldn’t help laughing. She kind of expected another reason. The one that used his heart to make the decision but she knew that Malfoy was very, very logical. “It depends on the music.”
“I thought you could dance to any music.”
“Heavens, no!” She couldn’t help chuckling as she waved her hand dismissively. “I might as well change my career into a dancer if I could.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
With her racing heart, she linked her arm with his and went to the dance floor.
She knew that Malfoy had a lot of experience in dancing as well. She had also seen him dancing with other women as well. He put his hands naturally on her waist while gazing at her in a close proximity like it was nothing, like he was used to it. She hesitantly put each of her hand on each of his shoulder blade, averting her gaze from his.
Because every time her gaze met his beautiful and calm stormy eyes, she couldn’t help feeling like he was pulling her to get drowned into them.
“You weren’t shy like this when you danced with the others,” Malfoy suddenly commented. The music, thankfully very familiar to her ears, began. They immediately moved together on the first beat. “Am I bothering you?”
“No.” She hurriedly reassured him as she looked up and forced herself to look directly into her eyes. She also learned that Malfoy really spoke whatever he wanted to. “Maybe because you’re the prettiest dance partner I’ve ever got.”
She then realised how ridiculous she had sounded.
“The prettiest?” He suddenly snorted. “That’s a first.”
Heat began to creep into her face, resembling her skin like the colour of a tomato. Once again, she tried to look at anything but him.
“What makes me pretty?” He suddenly asked.
She dared to look directly at him again; to observe every feature he had that was beautifully God-sent. His eyes, his lips, his broad shoulders, his arms around her. “Everything,” she muttered unconsciously.
On the next beat, he suddenly slid his hand on her small back and pulled her closer to him, so close that their noses brushed against each other. She immediately pushed her head away, her heart racing madly. She would never forget the smell of his perfume, the warm breath that tickled her skin for a second, and… the way he smirked when she immediately avoided him even just for a second.
They finished the dance in silence. All the couples bowed to each other before shaking hands.
“I was right,” Malfoy commented. “You didn’t step on my feet.”
She breathed in relief. “I was familiar with the piece. Otherwise, your feet would have a different story tonight.”
“Then I have to list all the pieces that you’re familiar with.”
She snickered. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
He crossed his hands over his chest. “No. It’s just that you’re the best partner out of any ladies that I’ve danced with.”
“You haven’t danced with my sister yet.”
He frowned at her. “What’s wrong with me choosing you as my dance partner?”
“Nothing,” she hurriedly answered. She hoped he wasn’t offended. “Nothing, really.”
He shrugged. “Well, good night, then.”
Malfoy turned away and returned to his parents, who were grouping with some gentlemen and laughing politely about something. Story returned to her sister who was still staying with her dance partner.
“Didn’t expect you to dance with Malfoy,” Daphne snorted in disbelief. The man beside her rolled his eyes when he saw Story approaching. Story decided to ignore that. “How was it? I heard he was a bit picky about his dance partner.”
Story couldn’t help smiling. “It was great.”