Halloween's Party

I couldn't tear my eyes off her. She almost seemed to glow with her own inner light, like there was something special about her. I didn't even notice what the other girls looked like because my gaze was zeroed in on her. She has honey-blonde hair that flew down her back in sensuous waves. I couldn't make out the colour of her eyes from up here, but I can already see how puffy they are.

She's wearing a strapless, peach-coloured dress that looked way too classy for the kind of party she was at. Her friends are all wearing miniskirts that will show their asses if they so much as sneeze, but this girl's dress flares out around her thighs. It was cut well about her knees and showed off her slim yet curvy legs.

She was nowhere near as scantily clad as the other girls were on the dance floor, yet she somehow looked even more erotic for it.

She looked young—too young—sweet and innocent. But I know she's got to be at least eighteen or so, or else she wouldn't have been admitted into this party.

My eyes roved over her exposed flesh. She was a tiny little thing, but her legs seemed to go on forever. She flipped her hair behind her slender shoulder, and I watched as the honey-blonde waves rippled like silk. My hands twitched at my sides with the undeniable urge to glide my fingers through the strands and see if they feel just as soft and silky as they look.

My chest tightened as I continued to gaze at her. She has a good posture and full lips, and a small nose. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of the blood rushing through my veins.

I'm not that old by any means. I'm only thirty, but she looks so damn young, so fucking beautiful.

This girl is making me feel things I'd never felt before, and my chest heaved.

I balled my hands into fists as I stared down at her, my jaw tightened. I wanted to go down there and throw her over my shoulder and stomp away with her. Take her somewhere where no one can look at her the way they are now. I wanted to both spank her little ass for showing so much skin and also fall to her feet and worship her like she's my new religion.

"Hello?" Klaus called my attention back to him.

I snapped my head up to look over at my head of PR, my scow fixed firmly back in place. I'm more irritated than ever that he pulled my attention away from her.

"What the fuck is up with you, Romulus?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

"Where were you?"

"Nowhere." I gulped down the rest of my brandy before I turned and started heading for the door. 

"Well, let's get this over with," I growled.

I felt him gaping at me, probably surprised that it didn't take more coaxing to get me to go down to the party. I can't really blame him. He usually has to spend much longer trying to convince me to do my duty as host.

What he doesn't know is the only reason I'm going down there at all is that I feel like I'll die if I don't find out who this girl is and what color her eyes are.

I saw her somewhere and I can't seem to remember that. 

Lydia Miller. 

A few hours earlier.

"Lydia, We are getting late, Hurry up," I heard my best friend Sandy yell from outside.

"Five minutes please," I yelled back, 

There was this Halloween party happening and Sandy along with my other friends decided to go there, dragging me along with them. I moved out of London two years ago, I didn't have any other option other than to leave London. 

Manchester was the first place that came to my mind and here I am. I'm glad I moved here, I made amazing friends. Sandy became my best friend after Clarissa, no one can take her place in my life and Sandy was the second person I trust. 

I rushed out of my room, "Okay, Let's go," 

***

We all headed to the Vintage Club, which is quite famous here in manchester. Hearing that name always brings back memories of London and certain Villin but I chose to push those memories back of my mind. 

***

"Oh my god! It's really him!" Sandy spoke directly into my ear to be heard over the loud thump of the music.

My brows furrowed as I turned to her. "Who?" I asked, confused.

She nodded toward the doorway where several people were already looking. "The devil himself."

I laughed at her silliness, but she wasn't laughing. Her eyes were serious, and her gaze was honed in on the figure standing in the doorway.

"The devil, you say?" I joked, but she doesn't even crack a smile. Instead, without ever taking her eyes off the man walking into the room, she said dreamily, 

"Oh my god, isn't he the most handsome guy you've ever seen in your entire life? I wonder if he's really as terrifying as they say?"

I finally turned my entire body to get a good look at this man that everyone seemed to be gaping at. My breath caught when my eyes landed on him through the crowd. His gray eyes were like the last ashes on the fire, tossed up on the breeze and piercing me like shards of glass. 

Their grayness seems starker against his jet-black hair that's waving stylishly back from his face. An errant lock fell on his forehead in that careless way that men's hair does, and he lifted his hand and ran his fingers through the locks. 

His jaw was strong with a light dusting of stubble lining it. It only seems to give him a darker allure rather than a haphazard appearance. He still looked completely put together in his suit that no doubt cost more than a month's worth of rent for me.

Romulus Villin!

What is he doing here? 

And why in the hell is he staring directly at me?

I felt my cheeks flush, and the crowd parted to make way for him. I could be wrong, but it looked like he was walking straight towards me, his gaze pinned intently on me. I looked to the left and right and even behind me to see if there was someone else he could be zeroed in on.

When I turned back around, he was even closer to me, and it became apparently clear that I am his target.

"Oh my!" Sandy squealed into my ear as she gripped my arm the closer he got to me. "Do you by any chance know him?"

Yes, I do very well know him

But I lied. 

I shook my head at her. "No. Who is he?"

Before she got a chance to answer, he was standing right in front of us. Sandy let out a little squeak and stepped behind me—the traitorous bitch—leaving me completely at his mercy.

For a moment, we seemed to be suspended in time with him staring down at me intensely, his eyes blazing at me like twin flames. My breath was so shallow I could hear it coming out in wispy little pants in my ears. I probably looked like I'm hyperventilating or something.

"Hazel," he murmured.

My brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What?"

He didn't answer me. Instead, his eyes swept over me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes before they came back up to capture my eyes again. 

"What is your name?" his voice came out gruff and commanding.

He… doesn't know my name? 

Did he forget me? 

I blinked at his abrupt tone and took a step back. 

"You first," I challenged him.

If he's going to pretend to not know me, then I can beat him in his own game. 

He raised an eyebrow in surprise as if he was not used to being questioned or denied anything, but then his lip twitched before he told me, 

"Romulus Villin. Now yours, Butterfly"

My cheeks flamed with the endearment and the way it came out sounded like a caress.

"Lydia Miller,"

He repeated my name in a voice that was contemplative as his eyes studied my face again.

"Romulus," A man called his name from behind us. Romulus's face dipped into a scowl before he turned and glanced over his shoulder.

And I don't know why, but I felt the sudden urge to hurry up and get the hell out of there. I took the opportunity of Romulus's attention being fixated elsewhere to turn and push my way through the throng of people.

My entire body was shaking and felt like it was on fire. It's like I've been hit with an electric current, and while part of my instincts was telling me to get as far away from him as I can, another part is braying against me and telling me to turn around and go back and find out why he didn't seem to remember me.

I don't know what to do, everything that happened back in London rushed back to me and I didn't know how to act, so I ran, telling myself that it was for the best and that, thankfully, I'll never have to see him ever again.

Even as relief coursed through me, I also felt a pang the more distance I put between us.

I'm not a butterfly, and I don't know why he called me that.

I'm a fucking coward.