LOVE LOVE LOVE !

He sighs. His heartbeat is like a drum in his ears, a thumping bass driving him mad, a crashing wave threatening to swallow him whole. He hates these stupid parties, with their stupid guests and stupid small talk and their stupid ways of making everyone feel small. Not him, of course, never him. Marius is a Von Hagen, and in this world he is a Someone, which means that they will never put him down in those snide ways they are so very good at. Instead they fawn over him, fall at his feet like he's the second coming of Christ while they unsubtly try to introduce their daughters or nieces or cousins or grandchildren – no one cares that he couldn't care less.

He's holding the glass in his hand so tightly his knuckles are white, and he doesn't even realise it until a voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“It's quite ugly, isn't it?” 

“Excuse me?” His tone frays at the edge, the only flaw in his immaculate poker face as he turns to look at the girl beside him. 

“I said, it’s quite ugly, isn’t it? The painting?” Her dark curls bounce around her perfectly framed face as she tilts her head in confusion, slowing down and enunciating each word with extra care.

“I heard you the first time.” He can’t help the smile that quirks up the corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I just transferred to Starhigh, I’m Kira.” Her face breaks into a toothy smile and it’s radiant. It’s been too long since Marius has seen a genuine expression at one of these events. She offers him a hand, presumably for a handshake, but when he doesn’t take it she sighs, “Fuck, did I mess up already? I knew I shouldn’t have stayed up all night before my etiquette classes… I hope we can still be friends.” 

Her naivete is almost sweet. Too authentic for this plastic den of wolves. Something twinges in his chest and he laughs, reaching out to squeeze her outstretched hand. “Don’t worry, if your humour is as good as your taste in art I think we’ll get along great.”

As her eyes crinkle in a laugh, Marius von Hagen looks at the girl standing in front of him and for the first time in a long time, he feels something.

He sighs. His heartbeat is like a drum in his ears, a thumping bass driving him mad, a crashing wave threatening to swallow him whole. He hates these stupid parties, with their stupid guests and stupid small talk and their stupid ways of making everyone feel small. Not him, of course, never him. Marius is a Von Hagen, and in this world he is a Someone, which means that they will never put him down in those snide ways they are so very good at. Instead they fawn over him, fall at his feet like he's the second coming of Christ while they unsubtly try to introduce their daughters or nieces or cousins or grandchildren – no one cares that he couldn't care less.

He's holding the glass in his hand so tightly his knuckles are white, and he doesn't even realise it until a voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“It's quite ugly, isn't it?” 

“Excuse me?” His tone frays at the edge, the only flaw in his immaculate poker face as he turns to look at the girl beside him. 

“I said, it’s quite ugly, isn’t it? The painting?” Her dark curls bounce around her perfectly framed face as she tilts her head in confusion, slowing down and enunciating each word with extra care.

“I heard you the first time.” He can’t help the smile that quirks up the corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I just transferred to Starhigh, I’m Kira.” Her face breaks into a toothy smile and it’s radiant. It’s been too long since Marius has seen a genuine expression at one of these events. She offers him a hand, presumably for a handshake, but when he doesn’t take it she sighs, “Fuck, did I mess up already? I knew I shouldn’t have stayed up all night before my etiquette classes… I hope we can still be friends.” 

Her naivete is almost sweet. Too authentic for this plastic den of wolves. Something twinges in his chest and he laughs, reaching out to squeeze her outstretched hand. “Don’t worry, if your humour is as good as your taste in art I think we’ll get along great.”

As her eyes crinkle in a laugh, Marius von Hagen looks at the girl standing in front of him and for the first time in a long time, he feels something.

He sighs. His heartbeat is like a drum in his ears, a thumping bass driving him mad, a crashing wave threatening to swallow him whole. He hates these stupid parties, with their stupid guests and stupid small talk and their stupid ways of making everyone feel small. Not him, of course, never him. Marius is a Von Hagen, and in this world he is a Someone, which means that they will never put him down in those snide ways they are so very good at. Instead they fawn over him, fall at his feet like he's the second coming of Christ while they unsubtly try to introduce their daughters or nieces or cousins or grandchildren – no one cares that he couldn't care less.

He's holding the glass in his hand so tightly his knuckles are white, and he doesn't even realise it until a voice snaps him out of his reverie.

“It's quite ugly, isn't it?” 

“Excuse me?” His tone frays at the edge, the only flaw in his immaculate poker face as he turns to look at the girl beside him. 

“I said, it’s quite ugly, isn’t it? The painting?” Her dark curls bounce around her perfectly framed face as she tilts her head in confusion, slowing down and enunciating each word with extra care.

“I heard you the first time.” He can’t help the smile that quirks up the corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I just transferred to Starhigh, I’m Kira.” Her face breaks into a toothy smile and it’s radiant. It’s been too long since Marius has seen a genuine expression at one of these events. She offers him a hand, presumably for a handshake, but when he doesn’t take it she sighs, “Fuck, did I mess up already? I knew I shouldn’t have stayed up all night before my etiquette classes… I hope we can still be friends.” 

Her naivete is almost sweet. Too authentic for this plastic den of wolves. Something twinges in his chest and he laughs, reaching out to squeeze her outstretched hand. “Don’t worry, if your humour is as good as your taste in art I think we’ll get along great.”

As her eyes crinkle in a laugh, Marius von Hagen looks at the girl standing in front of him and for the first time in a long time, he feels something.