Beata's Winter Formal 2016

Now, wasn't that scary. He made a mental note to watch out for this girl after all. Preston laughed under his breath all the same, shooting one glance around the room as the song went on around them. Most had already looked away, starting their own dance or surfing around the room. He hadn't been able to even spot Kayla in the crowd until his Queen had pointed her out. He had the tact to not turn his head, but he could imagine easily sitting there, huffy and hunched over their drinks.

"And you didn't seem like the nosy type," The young man mused back, his ocean-like eyes glinting down at him. And then he sniffed, as if holding back another chuckle. Crap, was she drunk already? "She's not." He tilted his head. "I didn't know she'd be my date, or that I'd be dancing with you tonight." Pres kept on with his smirk. "Funny how that stuff works."

---

Seeing as the last person she'd run into, and the first person she'd met at Beata, had shoved her down to the ground for a minor bump in the hallways - it was easy for her to understand why she'd been on such guard. Whoever this girl was, her reaction was welcome, acting as if hardly anything had happened in the first place. At the same time, she wondered if she had took her apology too far. An uneasy smile took to her. "Ah, thank you, I -"

Ishiko blinked as the girl leaned in, grinning over her small new friend. The stranger looked as excited as she was when she first spotted the fuzzy little fur-balls. She couldn't help but mirror the girl's smile. "Isn't he cute?" The Summer held her up closer for her to see. "I haven't thought of a name yet." Her eyes flickered up. She hadn't she slightest clue, in truth.

---

Liam's eyes widened as she pushed herself back onto her feet, ready to catch her before she fell into the snow, not expecting her back on her feet so soon. The chill had seemed to finally pierce through him, sending shivered her hands met him; an uneasy lump welling up in his throat. She took her first step and he found himself almost hesitant to follow, dragging his foot across the ground and swaying in time with her.

The young man let out the sigh, one he hadn't even realized he'd been holding as she stared up at him. A smile touched the corner of his lips as he put his hand to her waist, pulling her in close and drifting in their slow waltz. There were hardly any room for even the warm clouds of breath between them.

He was lost in the way the soft light glimmered in her eyes, bright and open, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away. In that moment it felt like, it was almost like she, or he, or God, he couldn't think. He only found herself pulling her closer with every step, leaning in closer, brushing his forehead gingerly against hers.

God, her dad? That song had come out when Anthony had been four - in 1967. Now he really felt old.

"Should I be expecting a newspaper taxi, then?" In this spotty white-and-blue lighting, paired with the reflection of dozens of dazzling, multi-coloured dresses, her eyes did look a little bit like kaleidoscopes, now that he thought about it.

He guided Lucy in a lazy arc, keeping a loose hold on her hand. Dancing was far easier than he'd imagined, amazingly. If he minded his footwork, the possibility of ending the night off without having tripped anybody - or himself, for that matter - was looking more and more realistic.. Of course, he wasn't yet as drunk as he wanted to be, though, so that could always change if he stopped at the punch bowl again. Shaking his head lightly to dismiss his god-awful joke from a few seconds ago, he went on introducing himself. "Anthony. Alternatively, Tony, or 'airhead that failed freshman year'. Take your pick." He was called all three names with equal frequency, the latter being his teachers' favourite.

As another pair began drifting closer to Lucy and himself, Anthony noticed a glass in the boy's hands. Hm. Interesting. As the boy swung his partner off to the side to spin her around, Anthony snatched the beverage right out of his hand. Another pair glided between Anthony and the other man before he'd even noticed who the thief was. Well, that had saved him the trouble of having to walk back to the punch bowl.

He knocked back half the glass and loosed a contented sigh, eyes drifting down to his partner. "So what sort of magic trick can you pull? Flying, invisibility, talking to plants?"

Whatever it was, it was better than his, that was for sure.

---

Peter felt as if he were about to spontaneously combust as Piper clasped his hand and pulled him over to the dance floor. He knew where to place his feet and hands, and how to hold himself, but he'd only ever danced with a very limited number of people - mostly adults - in his private dance class. Never a girl of his age. Oh god. Some minuscule part of him, deep down inside, was pleased that he'd managed to find a partner.. But, then again, she'd found him, not vice versa. Mostly, though, he was brimming over with embarrassment.

"Ahaha.. Right, dancing.. Alright, uh.." Tentatively, he reached down to place a hand on her hip, but immediately when he made contact, he recoiled. He face burned hotter. "Sorry, sorry! I ah.. I haven't practiced in a long time, hah.." Swallowing hard, he took one of her hands in his own and laid the other on her hip again, forcing himself not to pull away.

Her heels made her taller, tall enough to be level with him without standing on her toes, pressing her forehead to his, then collapsing her head to his chest at the swell of the music. The mellifluous melody filtered perfectly out of the hall's windows, further revealing itself briefly with each opening of the nearby door, each spark of heat that pushed against her numbing shoulders. Those who saw them seemed to glance for only a second before going back in. Maisie found herself caring less and less.

When the song reached a close, Maisie raised her head, her arms neatly around him, her hands crossing themselves behind his neck. She looked into his eyes, and, strucken by a quick but lingering silence, whispered after a brief pause, "My feet really hurt." The crickets roared their applause from the nearby undergrowth, the bushes that adorned the trees, whose leaves rustled with the hopping of jays.

______________

Anthony. She knew one Anthony in her life, a busworker in Fresno. Old bitter Anthony. She tried to push an image of this new one out of her mind, one of him demanding tokens, a cigarette sticking crudely out of his mouth. He didn't seem like the smoker type. Well, no, that was a lie; he seemed exactly like the smoker type, but Old Anthony was, well, old.

"Oh, no, I do handguns." Lucy's own brand of awkward gesture made her raise a gun shape with her hand as he sipped a drink, one that he seemed to find out of nowhere. Of course, she immediately pinned her hand to her side, the dance quickly becoming a weird one-handed shuffle. What was she doing? It was probably safer to pull out a glock from her dress! "It's like when you used to play cops and robbers as a kid, only lethal. No biggie." She hesitated too long to question him about the materializing punch, and bit her lip instead, letting out the unfinished gasp of a bitten word. The song started to slow to a stop anyway, swelling to a finish, the room's tension releasing like from the open door of a sauna.[/i]

No sharp looks, no chastisement, but she could feel that pinprick of resentment, a glow of defiance that kept her moving and kept her fluid enough to keep up. "Of course," she breathed, forcing the air in and out through her nose so he wouldn't think she was panting. She was definitely not panting, sorta. One misstep, and she almost stumbled, but Jane managed to keep herself upright, clutching onto his hand like a lifeline. "Don't tell me you're getting bored already. Or are you out of stamina?" Her smile split wider, a show of teeth, as rich as it was coming from her. Where had all that momentum gone? "Just for the rest of this song, and then you can get your break, alright?"

---

"Wizard, man!" she gasped, reaching out a finger to give the poor little thing a scratch behind the ear. "It's so soft!" Why didn't they make blankets or pillows out of this kind of thing? Poppy didn't let herself linger on the thought, quick to cloister herself up against the stranger. They'd talked, there were bunnies, that made them friends, basically. She'd always wanted to snatch one of these up. Back home, sometimes they'd hop through their garden, but then someone would just let the dogs out, and on the special, special, special occasions, she was still a crack shot.

They tasted okay. Not too gamy, but strong. Poppy kept petting.

Giving a small shrug at his first comment, she stayed quiet. Life was truly mysterious with its ways, but she wasn't about to complain. Quite honestly, being given the royal title of Winter Formal Queen was blessing, even if it was only for a night. Well, a night she would never forget. Pepper hadn't thought that she of all people would've been given the crown but even so, their dance together didn't turn out quite as awkward as she'd originally thought.

"Yes, funny indeed," Pepper replied, looking back to Preston. ... it was obvious that the song was close to finishing and although she'd had first thoughts in the beginning, she didn't want the night to end. It felt as if they'd just begun and though he probably had to get back to his girl, she wished it didn't have to end so suddenly. "Well, I'm glad that I was able to be blessed by your presence tonight," she giggled, their feet continuing to waltz in sync and her dress gentle swaying back and forth to the slow rhythm. "And I must admit, tonight has been more... enjoyable than I thought it would be," the Spring added, speaking the truth.

It was a little disheartening to know that she probably wouldn't see him much after tonight, but who knew since anything was possible.

ooc;; gomen for shitposts i am running on empty

How they ended up so much closer, he couldn't tell you. One moment, the damned cheesy music was echoing out from the hall behind them, each step stiff and careful, and the next they were left with only the quiet music of the night, her arms wrapped around him and his hands nestled into the small of her back. "Damn it," he muttered, a hint of a stupid, crooked smile touching him. "Do you ever stop complaining?" His lips brushed against hers, just a nimble touch and nothing more. Liam let his gaze fall close at last, breath caught in his throat.

"We could head back," he struggled to find the right words, anything that would match that perfect, beautiful moment of theirs. Formals weren't his get up. They could dance and drink at home. He shook his head at himself, resting his forehead against hers. "Me and you." And Mary Jane? Hell, if he knew. He wasn't built for this. Liam laughed again, thinking on how stupid he must have sounded then.

---

Wizard? Was that a name or an expression? Either way, she found herself pondering on it.  "Wizard...?" Huh. The little rabbit squirmed around in her arms as the stranger scratched away at behind her ear. It was nervous, as expected, but the little creature seemed to like it all the same. At least, to her anyways. She never exactly owned a bunny before.

"I think it ... adores you," the young woman paused, trying to pick out the appropriate word before smiling reassuringly at herself. "My name is Ishiko. And yours is...?"

---

She took the funniest things in stride, he thought.

The crowd had already begun to pick up around them and there wasn't much of free space anymore, everyone dancing, laughing with their dates or their own friends, doing their own thing and allowing the two of them to blend easily into the crowd.

"You better have been," Preston drilled back in amusement. To be fair, the dance wasn't half as bad as he was expecting; to have a tall, pretty girl's name and attention and a shiny new crown to boot, he had little reason to complain. "It had been fun. I'll have to hunt you down some other time... Pepper, right?"

The song finally came to it's slow end and he paused their dance, taking his hands from her hips and holding her hands up in his. "Your Majesty." Preston leaned in closer, planting a tender kiss across her cheek and stepping back. All polite formalities, of course...

He shared one last smile with her before letting their grasp fall, disappearing back off into the crowd and back to the tables, pulling his new adornment off his head and holding it out in his hands. Damn, he was never going to not show this fucking shit off.

He'd find a special place for it in the pillow fort.

Maisie was close enough to smell the cologne on his neck, mingling with the tart stench of fruit on his breath. Complaining. Her mouth, that had been open slightly, breathy and lightweight, not pressed closed. If he had to wear shoes like hers, he wouldn't be fretting with her. Her eyes seemed to flicker to her usual, astringent in a momentary lapse of acid. Of course, it lightened with his suggestion. Head back. Her brow curved back, her throat hollowing. "Oh, um..." She flinched back a few inches. "Sure."

Maybe she was overthinking things.

________________

It seemed like his concern would do nothing. She was flipping it on him. Logan nodded lightly. "Okay," he said. "I'll try to handle it." The boy pulled her close to him, his hand stern on her back, but he tried his best to treat her normally, like she wasn't fainting in his grip. Each second that the song seemed to continue, each hint at its longevity, peeved him, and he tried not to show it, trying to take in the moment with her. He didn't want to make it seem like he wanted it to end. The selfish side of him didn't want it to end. It was a a cruel divide in him, his wanting to dance with his girl, to hold her and sink into the song, and his wanting to help her, to make sure she didn't kill herself, even if that meant life only a few moments later.

He couldn't help but breath out when the song did end. He hadn't noticed how closely he clutched her, how intimately he brought her near him. Now, in reality and outside of his thoughts, he slackened. "I managed to make it through by the skin of my teeth," he told her, giving her a toothy smile for proof.

It wasn't like Lucy's gift was exceptionally strange or anything - everything at this academy was quirky enough already - but it wasn't something he'd expected out of someone so petite and mousy. He tried to picture her blasting someone apart, but he just couldn't. That would truly be a sight to see, though.

"So what, you're like a.. Human machine gun, or something?" He chuckled lightly, touching the rim of his glass to his lips again. His bottom lip tingled a little as he drank. Whoops. Slow down, asshole. He was so close to finishing this dance without stumbling over. Now was not the time to start doing so. "Pretty hardcore."

Anthony's mouth parted in the beginnings of a description of his own gift, but he hesitated, and then closed it. He'd spent months moping and reminiscing about what his gift had done to him. His mind was finally off of it, tonight, so he didn't need to think about it more than he already had. Aside from that, he didn't have the faintest idea of how it worked. He had no clue how he'd triggered it, why he'd leaped so far into the future, why he even had the gift, or how to trigger it again. Explaining it would be difficult.

A moment later, the song slowed to a gradual close. Anthony disengaged from Lucy and settled his free hand in his coat pocket. "Well, I didn't trip you." He drank again, finishing off his fourth glass of the night. When he smiled, it felt a little crooked, but he wasn't entirely sure. It didn't take much alcohol to make his world fuzzy. "I'd say that was a success for a couple of amateurs, hey?"

God the night has been wonderful, but unfortunately, nothing lasted forever.

Nodding when he said her name, she gave him a smile and what happened next had surprised her. Tensing up when he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, she simply blinked as he took a step backward and let go of her hand. "Alri-" she started, but before she was able to say anything, her dance partner has disappeared in the crowd. Did their time together really have to end so quickly? The night was still young and she could've danced for ages, but alas, he had his special someone to return to and she had... no one.

So here she was, standing alone in the crowd of dancers, a glittering crown on her head and cheeks still holding their embarrassed reddish hue. Letting out a content sigh, she made her way through the crowd and took off her crown, not wanting the beacon to show her off anymore than it already had. The real fun was over and now Pepper was back at the sidelines of it all, the perfect place for the wallflower that she was. Looking around, she noticed the two guys that she'd met before still hanging around the table and decided to visit with them a little more.

"Hey," the spring said with a wave, her usual shy smile plastered back on her face. Holding the crown in both hands that rested bellow her waist, she stood by the two students, looking out to the dance floor, wishing she were still dancing. Well, at least she'd gotten a few moments of distinction, in which she couldn't complain about. It'd been fun and she was glad that she'd been able to experience something like it. Besides, it's not everyday that you get crowed Queen of the formal.

Her and her friend. All these shallow introductions. Evelyn could barely look at either of them. The word tasted like poison as she turned it around in her mouth. What had she been thinking, what had she been doing? She'd been almost ready to just turn and walk away without another word when he hammered another nail, a name he dropped so casually, so uncertainly... He didn't remember, but hearing her name out of his mouth again after so long made her flinch. How long had she kept all his stupid voice mail just to hear that? Months, at least, before one night she blanked out and the next morning they were all gone.

"Monsieur!" a voice called from somewhere in the crowd, over the rapid click of heels.

"Evelyn..." she murmured under her breath. "M-my name's Evelyn..."

She was gone before Elodie returned, a cloth in her hands, fretfully pulling at his sleeve. "Mon, mon, Jason..." she tut-tutted. "You really must be more careful..." They'd already missed so much of the dancing. What luck...

---

A couple more minutes alone with the punch bowl was all it took to flip her thinking around. All her rationale and excuses went draining out the window, slowly but surely, and the more she looked, the more she stared, the sharper and more pronounced it got. The knife in her stomach. A twinge in her gut.

Okay. Forget it, actually. Whatever she'd thought before... forget it. Even if she tried denying it, staring at them, her eyes drilling holes into the both of them, even for just one hot flash of a moment, what she wouldn't have given to have Magic's gift. What she wouldn't have given to hear the whispered words between them, fixating on their lips like the words would just start popping into her head. The little peck sent a crack of lightning over her head, her brow twitching.

She'd never been a gossip, or nosy into anybody else's bullshit, but holy fuck, it was gnawing away at her from the inside out. I don't care... That's what she reasoned to herself, gripping the glasses in her hands, teeth clenched behind a loose and bitter grin. Woozy. Kayla leaned against the table, barely able to keep her head up straight. It was like the whole Grand Hall had motion blur. Maybe all the fumes from Brailynn's make-up and bath shit were getting to her... The chemicals in that stuff couldn't be good. Why should I give a fuck? Parsley's dress was blindingly sparkly, nauseatingly bright, but she couldn't turn her neck away from the two of them, swaying back and forth, hands on her hips, the center of the room...

And then he was pulling away.

Kayla blinked, squinted. The crown was off his head, but she wasn't seeing things.

He was walking away. Back toward the punch table. She let out a snort once he was back in earshot, finally able to turn her head away, an eyebrow cocked. "Bored already, Your Highness?" she said, setting the second glass aside.

The smile disappeared for the smallest split of a second, a familiar call reaching him through the crowd. One blink, and the conversation was gone, out of his mind; only focused on his precious date who was finally running back to his rescue, cute in her fretfulness. He gave the girl beside him - ah, he never caught her name - one last kind look. She seemed distracted now anyways, even blind as she seemed to be, that much was obvious. It hadn't hit him that she wouldn't have even been able to catch his dismissive grin until Elodie was back at his side, pulling away at him. He fought back a cringe.

"Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle." Jason's grin returned, brushing off the front of his ruined shirt, taking the cloth from her and dabbing away at what he could of the punch - not that it did much at this point anyways. It was the thought that counted. "I spoiled your evening. I'll make it up to you somehow." Perhaps starting with a dance or two. Ruined attire or not, he could manage that much, at least.

Something refused to sit right all the while, eating away at the pit of his stomach. He patted away at his pocket, having his keys, his phone, and hey - his date was back. He chalked it up to his own stupidity not a few moments ago and set the cloth aside, the poor thing's work done.

---

He twisted the crown between his fingers a few more times, admiring the glint in the light and grinning down at her, the amusement written on his face clear as day. Preston considered stealing back his now-empty glass, wondering if it was worth it or not to get his own fill in, but decided he had better shit to do. It looked like she'd had her fill for the evening anyways. "You think you were off the hook that fucking easy?" His smile turned crooked as he reached out for her, a few stray sparks flashing out, beckoning her closer and slipping the crown back atop his head with his free hand.

"Let's go, Pikachu." Without leaving her much time to react or yank away, he took her hand in hers, giving it a squeeze and pulling the girl unto her feet, making sure not to stray too far too fast lest she trip on her face or break her ankle. He waited for her to catch up to his side, leading her out onto the dance floor.

Sparks lashed out over her head. "Huh?" Off the hook? What did he think he was...? "Wha— Hey..." She almost flinched under his touch as he pulled her away from the table. Her knees quivered from the sudden lurch in motion, and her heels wobbled beneath her, so she might as well have been balancing on stilts as she took the first few steps out into the open floor. No supports, nothing to lean on, nothing except her hand in his. He was her buoy, the only thing keeping her from sinking to the linoleum. "Watch it, I'm dizzy..." she grumbled, a feeble protest, but she found her stride as he pulled her forward, that pit of dread growing in her gut as it finally clicked in his mind what he was doing.

For whatever reason, not any reason she could've explained to herself, she didn't wrench her hand out of his grasp right then. Maybe she was just afraid of falling on her face, like she'd been fretting about all night. Whatever excuse she had, she didn't pull away, so it was her own fault.

Kayla shot a glance up at him, half-pouting, side by side. He was all lazy grace, easy strides, and she must've looked like a waddling penguin in comparison, more focused on staying upright. "Seriously?" She snorted, a light grin cracking across her face, glancing away. Electricity spread down the length of her arm. "I don't—... I mean, I'm not gonna..."

Shit, she was so woozy.

The crowd was sparce enough that it was no issue guiding her through at least, gleaming lights falling onto the dance floor and showering them in an array of colors. Even as she looked away, Preston still caught on to that small grin of hers. "You're gonna," He smirked, slowing them to a halt in the middle of the floor. She was nothing like his Queen, wherever Pepper had run off too, wobbly on her feet, brash, and drunk off her ass, but thay didn't disappoint him any. He noticed the way her warm eyes glowed all the same, or how her curls bounced with every step if hers, and shit, it was almost weird how soft and delicate she appeared overnight. "Deal with it."

Preston turned to face her, his hand shifting around in hers, palm to palm and fingers intertwined. His other hand reached down, resting gently on her waist, brushing over the bright orange fabric. "Just put your hand on my shoulder and step after me," His smile grew as he leaned in closer to her, slight as it was, it felt like a mile leap with the distance between them. "Easy shit."

Well, shit. Couldn't argue with that. She was stuck out here, so she might as well stick through it... How bad could it be? And maybe, just maybe, just a little bit, she kinda wanted to do this too. Kayla kept her eyes glued to his chest, not glancing up at his face as his fingers locked through hers and his other hand glided to her waist and oh shit she was so fucking dizzy and maybe she just needed something to eat and... Her head was spinning, but she laughed it off, putting a hand on his shoulder just to keep herself upright, and definitely not for any other reason, nope. "Like this?" she managed. There was a small lash of electricity over her head. She ignored it. "Right, well, your funeral..." she answered, still stepping after him, stiff and unsteady.

She could've killed a man with these heels, so he had better watch his toes.

He'd been expecting more of a fight out of her, not that he could have complained then. Another laugh escaped him as he glanced eerily down at the close space between them, watching her feet as she near stumbled around with every rigid step. Fuck, he'd only duly noticed then how sweaty his palms were, or how heavy his heart had seemed to be pounding away in his chest. Bite of the punch, Preston convinced himself. He forced himself to focus then on the rythem of the song, taking step after step after step, holding the girl in his arms closer up to him as they began to sway with the music. "I think I'll live," He scoffed.

Her laugh was loose and crackly, and all-around dorky in nature, but it sounded sweeter than the music itself to him. Even as she stated straight ahead, he could make out the soft glimmer against her eyes, a warm glow clashing with the icy blue sparks that danced themselves between them. Preston wasn't retarded. It was tough to swallow, like a bitter pill, he'd known her for so long and she'd always been a ragged mess, lumped out on the couch or wrapped in casts, black and blue and ratty haired. He'd seen her time after time when she was at her worst. It was only natural to be a bit blown away when she was at her best, right?

He'd seen plenty of pretty girls around. They were easy for him, to talk to, to mess around with, it'd been so long since he'd ever felt any sort of rush from another cute face. Looking at her again in the evening light

Fuck, she looked so beautiful.

He felt sick and the butterflies in his stomach were whirling up a storm.

It was probably nothing. He'd never felt a current quite so strong.

But his heart wouldn't stop racing. The lights, the people, the decorations; they all faded to a mere blur around them. He could have laughed then, again, but he had no idea what was even funny.
He'd almost lost her. This night would have been such shit without her.
Maybe he was some kind of retarded.
He would have done anything for her.
What was his problem?
Anything.
Shit.
He liked her.
He'd gotten so wrapped up in himself, he hadn't quite noticed when he'd almost tripped on his own damned feet. "Hey, careful." He muttered, about as cross as a kitten.
He really liked her.
Had they kicked up the temperature here or something? Fucking shit. That punch was definitely fucked up to hell and back.
He loved her.
His smile changed, wavering, turning almost feeble, a tad nervous. Pres had lost his train of thought, left with not idea of what he'd even wanted to say before.
He loved her.
What should he say...? He shook his head at himself. "Kayla?" Preston called, his voice soft.