December Writing Challenge: Day 4

Prompt: „Call me Xavier, you will join me in the end, and you will be the last“

(Sorry I had to keep going…) [Part 1]

He led her onto the dance floor without much pomp or circumstance. They simply walked there, and took up places opposite one another. Making sure to stare at her with a penetrating stare, one of his hands grasped her hip, so that she was forced into placing her hand onto his lower back. They were standing very close now, and Penelope could almost feel his breath on her her cheeks. Ignore it, she consoled herself gently. He is nothing but a rogue.

They danced quite well together, despite the lack of speech between them, until “Have I said something to offend you?” He seemed genuinely concerned. One part of her warred that this was a ploy. She had no knowledge of his rank in society, or whether he was purely interested for reasons that were not quite so noble.

“Not at all.” She responded, although the tension in her body indicated otherwise. “I just have no knowledge of who you are, or why you wanted to dance with me.” Xavier laughed, but it had a slightly wicked quality to it. Before Penelope could muse onto why that was, he continued. “I want to dance with you, Penelope, because you are beautiful, do I need another underlying reason to do so?”

He didn’t, not really. But Penelope didn’t trust him, and she really did not want to be dancing with someone she didn’t trust. Before she could pull away, his grip on her hip became slightly more demanding – and she found herself blindly consenting to another song. The floor was filling up, and she couldn’t catch glimpses of either of her two sisters, not that they would be any help in assisting her out of her predicament. Xavier smiled down at her, and soon her thoughts of her sisters were the last thing on her mind.

Perhaps it wasn’t really the worst thing in the world to be dancing with him. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me who you really are.” But her voice seemed small and unimportant among the loud orchestra and pitter-patter of feet all around them. “No.” He responded after a second of silence, “I don’t think you would take that well.”

Before she could inquire about what exactly he meant by that statement, he had whisked her off the dance floor and deposited her, non too gently, onto a bench on the outside balcony. After a second’s hesitation, he sat down next to her.

“It is difficult to know where to begin.” he started, “For starters, you can be assured that my name is Xavier. That I have not lied about. But I did have an ulterior motive to dancing with you. I need your help.” He stared beseechingly at her, taking note of her raised eyebrows.

“You need my help?” she asked, letting out a small laugh. “Whatever with?”

“I’m afraid that would have to wait until we’re in a secured location.” Guardedly, he took out a sheet of paper, which had an address on it. “Next Tuesday, come to this address alone, and don’t bring any maids. We will need to be assured of the utmost privacy.”

“And if I don’t come?” But she pocketed the paper anyhow.

“I somehow doubt that will be an issue.”

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