The Chronicles Of Bournemouthshire

I know I just forget things very quick

  A reflection of otherness stared back at me. I looked utterly ridiculous in all those frills of purple flowing to the floor and trailing off behind me. It didn’t help that my neck, shoulders, and most of my back were exposed. I turned and grabbed the retreating maid, “I am not wearing this…!”
  Shaking off my hand, she left through the double doors. Just whose idea was it to put me in this ridiculous outfit?! Only one person popped into mind before I shoved the idea in the back of my mind. Whoever it was, they had given me the perfect opportunity to sneak around the ball undetected and spy on the Amber tribe leader.
  Losing no time, I gather my skirts and leave the strange room. The corridors through which I wander at first still carry the same eerie aura and are poorly lit. Soon enough though I start to hear the sounds of the party as the corridors become more populated and well lit. A nearly crash into a tripping servant carrying four trays full of champagne glasses.
  “Excuse me…” he mumbled and scurried away. I shook my head and carried on to make my way through the now crowded corridor.
  Finally, I made it to the main attraction – the vast grand hall. The place was alive and buzzing, sparkling from the ceiling’s chandeliers to the ground’s champagne glass tower. It seemed that frills were in fashion as most of the women had dresses similarly styled to mine while the men had their suits bursting with all the frills from their cuffs to their cravats. Although I didn’t stand out with this, I somehow felt a little saddened to be so… ordinary.
  I shivered as familiar fingers brushed the spine of my exposed back. A low voice whispered in my ear, “You seem saddened. Did you not enjoy my gift, kitten?”
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, parasite.” I slapped his hand snaking around my waist. Turning around, my jaw nearly dropped as I saw the sight before me.
  For once, Arane actually looked civil. He was wearing a suit very much similar to those worn by the men around us, also blending in. Yet it seemed… still unique. The dark velvet was covered by golden patterns of all sorts. Although neat, the frills captured his mischievous personality perfectly. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his slightly exposed chest though. I get it already. You have a six pack. So what?
  His poor attempt of tying back his wild hair was admirable at most. His fringe still made it out of the bow tying up his long silver hair, forming the usual mess around his face.
  “You sting me in the heart, my fair lady.” Arane feigned saddened as he made a show of dabbing his non-existent tears with a handkerchief.
  “Then why aren’t you dead?” I try to get away from him, remembering my original reason for sneaking into the Popel ball. Arane followed me without much effort.
  “The hot-headed one is on your left, if you’re wondering.” Arane pointed out Arthur without much effort in contrast to me trying to jump up a little to get a glimpse ahead of all the heads around me. Looking where he pointed, I do indeed find Arthur in no time.
  He seems to be uncomfortable when no one is looking. His suit is pure white with the typical cross and sun patterns threaded into it. The frills are of a much softer and more transparent colour than normal. He almost seems to be surrounded by white feathers like a regal bird rather than a man in frills. The image was reinforced as soon as someone started to speak to him. His expression was of pure concentration and business.
  “My kitten is not paying attention to me. I’m jea~lous!” Arane sulked as he put his arms around my shoulders. We were getting a few looks and giggles.
  “Stop that. People will get the wrong idea!” I tried to remove his hands, but he would not budge.
  “Let them. Now…” he turned me around to face him and placed my hands on the back of his neck. It was only then that I noticed that the hall was darkening and couples were formed as music began to play, “Let us dance.”
  With that, he began to lead me in a waltz, to my utter shock. I looked up at his smug face, trying his hardest not to smile and look at me.
  “You can dance?” I breathed out.
  “That, I can.” a hint of a smirk wrestled at the corner of his lip. With that, he didn’t hold back and gave it his all as he spun me around. I don’t know at what point and how he managed to do it, but he somehow got a rose in his mouth.
  “What are you doing? This is not a tango…” I try to hold back my laughter. Thankfully everyone else around us is concentrating too much on trying not to step on their partner’s foot rather than paying attention to us.
  “Everything is a dance of love when you are involved, kitten.” Arane flashes me a grin. It may be the lighting, but it seems like he is a little flushed.
  “That has got to be one of the cheesiest things you have ever said…” I try to hide my own embarrassment by turning my face away. I realise only too late that my cheek is now pressed against his chest. It just had to be the exposed part…
  “My, how bold!” Arane chuckled. I on the other hand frowned. His skin was so cold to the touch. I thought it may have just been his hands, but his body also seems to be ice cold.
  I looked up at him with concern in my eyes, “Are you alright?”
  For a second, his façade of confidence broke. In that second, emotions flashed through one by one: surprise, embarrassment, happiness. Soon enough though he covered it up with his usual smug grin, “I am flattered you worry for me, kitten, but what brought this concern?”
  “You are ice cold…” I touch his cheek to confirm my suspicions. All smugness leaves him as he stares at me almost in a daze.
  The lighting dims before completely going out. I start to panic before feeling something cold on my neck. I gasp as I realise its Arane’s lips. I try to shove him away in the darkness as I feel something wet on my neck before a sharp pain follows. Did he just bite me?!
  “Arane…what are you doing?” I whisper. He doesn’t answer though as he proceeds to trail down with his bites, “Stop that!”
  Although I can’t see, Arane seems to come back to his senses as he stops. In good time too as the lighting comes back on. I look at Arane with accusing eyes, but he avoids my gaze.
  I hear a scream of a woman and everyone’s attention is drawn to where Arthur is stood. His expression is one of pure rage and regret as he holds a man overflowing with blood.

suit yourself, grumpy fire bird

I vaguely remember something like that

it's the problem with being a perfectionist and also terrible at everything