The Devil Named Deimos

Masquerade I

Author's Note:

I really recommend listening to Dazzle by Oh Wonder while reading this chapter, the vibes are perfect. The song was also part of the inspiration for this part. This chapter is going to be split into two parts. The second part will be up soon. I would love to see comments on your thoughts of the book so far... and Deimos ;)

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I open my bedroom door and walk into the living room with slow steps. Looking down at the saturated, scarlet dress that cinches at my waist and then fades into an a-line dress. I give it a swirl, stumbling because of my heels. My arms wave around wildly as I fall to the floor, landing on my butt. 

And I have never been happier. 

A giddy smile takes over my face as I stay on the ground, staring in awe at the train of satin pooling around me. I use the walls to help me stand up, walking towards the mirror. 

I take more note in the detail that went in to create the beauty of a dress I am going to wear to the Annual Vulcan Gala. It's an elegant off the shoulder which extenuates my collar bones. Though it's red, as I turn in the light it shines hints of gold that lie in the seams. 

This year, my mother asked me to choose the theme, and in this moment I am very proud of myself. The gala is going to be a Masquerade, something that I used to dream of as a little girl. Ever since I read about these balls where, for once, you could be anybody, or you could be nobody; I was entranced.  

The woman that stares back in the mirror is a woman I have not seen for a while. She smiles openly, and her eyes seem to radiate the joy that is dancing around inside of her. Her dress makes her feel like a damn queen, and she is drunk off the feeling; the feeling of pure happiness.

For the final touch, I carefully slide on my mask, and flip my curled hair over the elastic. My dull brown eyes seem to be something entirely else tonight, like melting dark chocolate. The smokey eye that paints my eyelids enhances the darkness of my eyes, and I fall in love with it. The mask that covers a decent amount of my face is black with a crimson rose stuck to the side of it. I barely recognize myself, which is perfect for this ball. 

Before the invitations were sent, I made sure to tell Leon to add my request that everyone doesn't reveal their identity purposefully. To dress in a fashion that they wouldn't be known for, to be anybody they wished to be tonight. This should be a night to get away from all the paparazzi, to get away from all endless business deals, and to take chances without worrying about statistics for once.

Yesterday this was simply a dream, but tonight it will become reality. 

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With my chin up, and my gaze daring, I walk down the carpet towards the ballroom. My heartbeat syncs with my footsteps; slow, but daunting. With golden lights strung from wall to wall and smiles stretching from ear to ear, this is everything that I dreamt of. 

The paparazzi snap pictures of me, the sounds of shutters violently shutting is nearly deafening, but I feel invincible tonight, so I revel in it. As I step into the ballroom, they are left to wonder who I was, and I fall in love with the feeling of being so invisible. 

The slit in my dress that runs up my thigh gives a good view of my leg as I walk, and my dress trails behind me in scarlet waves. The ballroom is full of people, fellow CEOs covered with masks, dancing and twirling along with the music. The air is threaded with magic. 

I'm so lost in the sight in front of me that I'm startled when someone takes my hand and swoops me onto the dance floor where everyone seems to be. He wears a purple mask, that displays a pair of soft blue eyes, and a smile that seems to be tilted-

"Leon!" I stop dancing with him for a second, and wrap my arms around him, probably squeezing the life out of him. 

"Quiet, Ror. I'm playing this game with Jeremy, to see which one out of us can find the other the fastest, " he whispers excitedly, his fingers tapping anxiously on my waist as he looks around the vast room. I grab his face in my hand, squishing his cheeks together. He's absolutely adorable when he talks about Jeremy. He swats my hands away but a grin paints his face as he twirls me around. 

"I'm so happy you guys could come. I can't be the only CEO in here who snuck their secretary in," I quietly say to him, as I tap his nose. He's like the little brother I never had, that I can annoy endlessly.

"But you're sure as hell the only CEO here with the best fucking secretary ever," Leon declares as he flips a short strand of his hair snottily. I slap his chest lightly, as I try to look for Jeremy too. "Also, did I mention how you're putting the A in slay, tonight? Like damn, Aurora, I know I'm hot as fire, but you're a fucking forest fire."

I take my hands away from his neck, and once again give him a life-threatening hug. He always finds a way to compliment me that makes me feel like I'm at the top of the world. "You spoil me with your damn compliments, L."

"Well, your basically my sugar daddy for money, so I'll be yours for compliments," he winks at me and spins me away from him. We were supposed to part a few minutes ago, but with Leon I always lose track of time; ironically, since he's my fucking secretary. I'm left a laughing mess after Leon's last words, and twirl into  a new pair of arms. 

"Your laugh is truly exquisite" A deep, rough voice comes from my new dancing partner. I lift my eyes from my feet to meet the stranger's. I meet eyes of emerald green, gazing back at me, strikingly, through an ivory mask. They freeze me for a second, chilling me to the core. 

He has sandy blonde hair, darker than Leon's. This man, which I decide to call Mountain Dew for now, because of his eyes, is the definition of handsome. He flashes me a charming smile, twirling me around then pulling me back in, closer to him. 

"What's your name, darling?" He asks me, and I hear a British accent weaved through the pulse of his voice.  

"I'm afraid that's a secret, Mr." I give him a small smile, and peer into his emerald eyes through my lashes. I rack my brain for all the British businessmen I know, but if they had eyes like Mr. Mountain Dew's, I would've remembered them. 

He leans his head closer to me, "I've been known to be good at keeping secrets, love." His piercing eyes don't leave mine, the amount of attention that they are paying on me, sends shivers of thrill through my blood. 

"Same here, and that's why I'm not giving mine away," I whisper, dragging my finger across his cheek. I time my response perfectly, as another dancing figure swoops me away, leaving Mr. Mountain Dew staring after me. 

I grab the hand of my next partner, and flames seem to run from the tip of my finger, all the way to my chest. Sparks ignite when I wrap my arms around his neck, my eyes still focused on my feet like they always are when I first switch partners, to make sure I don't fuck up. 

Warm fingers gently lift my chin up, and my eyes are met with a jawline that could cut steel, cheekbones that seem to be hand carved by God, and eyes that-

Eyes that glitter a golden which strike a familiar feeling of butterflies erupting in my stomach. 

"Deimos," I whisper, entranced by the man hidden by a mask that matches the shade of my dress, and my cheeks as I lose myself in the Devil's eyes. Once again.