baldurs gate 3

our life: beginnings and always

date with death

mystic messenger

genshin impact

love and deep space

ikemen vampire

Cozette wasn’t sure what to expect from the masquerade. A grand affair held by the beloved count, or so she was led to believe. Her aunt insisted she dress in her fanciest, so she wore her favorite. A blue dress that flared past her knees in ocean-like waves. Though, when she approached the gates she realized one important detail.

Her mask. 

How could she have missed that detail in all of the excitement? 

She must stick out like a sore thumb. 

With a gasp she spotted someone selling masks, beautifully carved and painted ones at that. Of course, paired with a familiar face. She hadn’t gotten his name last time they met, or the last few times they met. But the fluffy white hair was difficult to mistake. 

“It’s you, right?” She beamed. In the sea of people, she hadn’t been lucky enough to see another friendly face. “The boy from the market?”

“It’s you again, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” His violet eyes meet hers and his demeanor shifts. “I didn’t catch your name.”

A playful smile plays on his lips and she can feel the magic radiating off of him. Back when he’d saved her in the marketplace, she felt it then, too. It was rare for her to sense magic on people, no, she seldom knew anyone else who practiced it. 

And it felt so different from hers, too.

“I didn’t throw it,” Cozette quips with a big grin. “You never told me yours either.”

“Fair enough,” He pressed his cheek into the palm of his hand. “If I give you a mask, could I get your name, then?”

“If I can just get yours.” 

“Greedy.”His fingers ghosts over some of the mask faces, not quite sure about any of them for her. “My name is Asra, I meant to tell you back at the market but I didn’t think we would meet again."

“Neither did I, definitely not on the same day, anyway.” Cozette’s eyes trail over the different masks. There were so many of them. Plenty of colors, shapes, sizes. She wasn’t sure how she would ever pick one. “I’m Cozette.”

Among the masks there were plenty of animals, she noticed. One that resembles cat ears, dog ears, bunny ears. Even one with the beak of a bird, those seemed to be the most popular seeing as that was the last one. 

“I like this one,” she plucks one that had shakier lines but probably the most vivid colors out of the bunch. “Did you make these yourself?” 

“That obvious, hm?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes. “The one you’re holding was my first one I made this year.”

“Well it’s my favorite, I love the colors.” She brings the mask to hover over her face. “What do you think? It suits me, right?”

“Oh absolutely, if I squint the paint almost looks even.”

“So what do I owe you?” She reaches for her coins when Asra’s hand invades her line of sight. 

“I wouldn’t feel right charging you,” His cheeks were dusted with a faint blush. That, or, Cozette was seeing things. “You would be doing me a favor by taking it, truly.”

“Well, jokes on you, this is a steal!” 

“Whatever you say.”

Cozette fixes the mask onto her face and turns to Asra. “What about you, though?”

“What about me?”

“You’re not wearing a mask? Weren’t you planning on enjoying the masquerade?”

“Oh no, I mainly came here to sell the masks, I didn’t have any intention on–”

“Why not? Isn’t this a once a year thing?” _ “You’ve already gone to the trouble of coming, you may as well dance.” 

“I don’t know about all of that,” Asra averted his eyes away from hers. He seemed almost shy, but not entirely unconvinced. “Besides, I still have a few left to sell.”

Cozette grins and picks one of the masks up and lifts it midair. Then another. She doesn’t stop until her lands land on a gold and lilac one. With a genuine smile she pushes it into his hands. “This would be one less to sell.”

“Just one dance and I’ll leave you alone, promise.” She holds out her hand nervously. Her palm was clammy with sweat and her face too warm even with the breeze caressing her skin. 

“Just one dance?” Asra looked between the girl before him, then the mask. With her smiling at him, moonlight kissing her skin and such a genuine invitation, his plans of holding the shop felt of little consequence. Most people had already filtered inside, anyhow. They wouldn’t miss him for an hour. 

“All right, but I’ll warn you,” He lifts the mask over his eyes and adjusts it so it doesn’t slide off. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“Really? Cozette grabs his hand with a slight tug eagerly. She looked back and offers a quizzical look. “I never would have expected that.” 

Asra chuckles and lets her lead him deeper in the palace, more than willing to follow where she goes.  He hardly knew this woman but he thought he would go follow her anywhere. There was just something about her. 

Nobody has made him feel this way, well, ever. 

Agreeing to dance with her? What was he thinking? 

For the first time in a while, he hadn’t been. 

He’s not the type so be impulsive. And yet here he was, hands joined with hers in the ballroom. His hands felt warm in hers and he didn’t want to let go. So he didn’t. 

Most of the night was a blur of honeyed words and all Cozette thinks she would always remember how Asra smiled at her no matter how many times she missed an important step. Or however many times she stepped on his feet. 

Hell, she was a terrible dancer. 

And he said he wasn’t a good dancer. 

His magic mingled with hers and that experience was far better than any combination of steps on the ballroom floor. It was like a buzz, a high.

After the thrill of the night wore away and Cozette grew tired of flouncing and twirling she turned to Asra. Her eyes met his seriousness reflected in the boundlessness of her amber eyes. Asra’s laughter softly died down at the sight. 

“Is something on your mind?”

“It’s just,”  Cozette looked at Asra and found herself nervous. Saying what was on her mind would make it just so and didn’t dare. Will I see you after tonight? Will you slip away? I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever, let alone in the span of a night, do you feel it too? 

“Tonight was wonderful,” she says instead. “I never want it to end.”

“Neither do I,” Asra leans his body closer to hers and squeezes her hand. There were a million things unsaid in that gesture, maybe one day Asra would’ve wished he said just one of them. Instead they remained in each other’s company. That was enough.

One hour more turned into another, then another.

Then they were watching the sunrise together just outside of the palace, masks forgotten beside them in the grass. 

This was definitely a masquerade to remember.