˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♱⠀

⠀

the church smells like incense and old wood. thick, almost suffocating. golden light spills through the stained glass, coloring everything in soft reds and blues that move when you breathe.

you sit still. hands folded. like you belong here. like nothing happened.

priest hollis stands at the front, draped in white and gold. the fabric falling clean and heavy over his frame. pristine. untouched. the collar sits sharp against his throat, hiding everything you know about the skin beneath it.

his voice is steady when he speaks. practiced. calm. like last night never existed. but you hear it. the slight roughness underneath. the crack he’s trying to smooth over. "come forward."

it echoes through the church, low, carried by the organ behind him. something slow, almost haunting, the notes dragging just a little too long, like they’re bending under their own weight.

people rise. row by row. you wait. you shouldn’t go. you know that. but your body moves anyway.

the marble floor is cold even through the thin fabric of your dress as you step forward, the space narrowing, the air growing heavier with every step closer to him. closer to the altar. closer to something that was never meant to happen.

he doesn’t look at you at first. he can’t. his hands are steady as he lifts the host, the thin white wafer, delicate between his fingers.

"the body of christ." the words sound wrong. or maybe it’s just you. you lower yourself slowly, knees touching the ground. and then he looks at you. and everything fractures. for a second it’s not the church anymore.

it’s last night

dim light. uneven breath. your hands gripping fabric that isn’t there now. your head tilted just slightly, the same angle, the same position, devotion twisted into something else entirely.

his jaw tightens. just barely. but you see it and your mind does the same cruel thing.

white and gold robes blur into bare skin. the careful distance between you collapses into heat, into closeness, into the memory of how his breath hitched when you looked up at him like that. exactly like this.

the organ swells. distorted now. heavier. almost wrong. you open your mouth. just slightly. waiting. the gesture is innocent here. sacred. it’s supposed to be. but the way his hand pauses, just for a second too long, gives him away.

his fingers brush your lips as he places the host on your tongue. skin against skin. brief. electric. his rings catch the light as his hand pulls back, the metal glinting, trembling just enough to betray him. you look up at him. slow. and for a second, he forgets where he is. you see it.

in the way his breathing falters. in the way his eyes darken. not with faith, not with devotion, but with something far more dangerous. something he already gave into once. the moment stretches too long. like it might snap.

and then it’s gone.

you stand. turn. walk back like nothing happened. like your heart isn’t pounding. like his gaze isn’t still burning into your back. like the altar isn’t holding a secret it was never meant to keep.

⠀

♱⠀

⠀

one was allowed to dream, surely.

to imagine a world that felt gentle. peaceful. untouched by grief. a place where the heart did not have to fear every beat. where longing was not a sin. where love was not decided by bloodlines or titles. an escape from the life you had been given. from the life in which you would never be anything more than...

a maid

sleep had barely found you that night. sorrow had settled inside your chest like a dagger lodged between your ribs. each breath seemed only to drive it deeper. each movement reminded you that it was still there.

how foolish you had been. to believe, even for a single heartbeat, that the future baron might descend from the place god had given him. that he might offer you something no servant had ever been promised.

his heart

by morning you had convinced yourself that none of it had been real. perhaps you had imagined every lingering glance. every careful word. every stolen moment beneath the stars. perhaps baron hollis simply enjoyed the game, no matter who it wounded. perhaps the other maids had once returned to their chambers just as you had: hearts broken by kindness that had never truly belonged to them. you would never know.

and there was no soul to whom you could confess your grief. every word would be treason. and treason was answered with death. immediately.

soft rays of morning sunlight spilled through the tall window, announcing the beginning of another day. the castle was already stirring beyond the walls. footsteps echoed through distant corridors. servants called quietly to one another. preparations continued without pause.

the wedding

only tomorrow remained before it. you lowered your head, unable to suppress the bitter ache rising inside you. of course. how could you ever have imagined another ending when this one had been written long before you arrived?

your body felt unusually heavy as you rose from the narrow bed. your limbs were slow to answer you. your eyes burned from too little sleep. your heart felt heavier still. almost without thinking, your hand drifted to your chest. it was still beating. despite everything.

you drew one slow breath, then another. the coarse fabric of your gown rose and fell against your skin, wrapping around you like a rough imitation of an embrace. perhaps it was the closest thing to tenderness this life would ever allow you. yet you lived within a royal household. and that alone was considered an honor. regardless of the circumstances. besides, you had brought yourself to this sorrow.

⠀

 ⋆ ✦ ⋆ 

⠀

today, finding your place within the rhythm of the castle proved difficult. sleep had abandoned you almost entirely, leaving the world veiled behind a dull haze. every corridor seemed quieter than it truly was, every voice farther away, as though you walked beneath a heavy sky while everyone else still stood in sunlight.

the other maids noticed before long. you misplaced folded linens. lingered where others needed passage. forgot instructions that would ordinarily have required no thought at all. gentle sighs soon turned to impatient glances. whispers followed whenever you passed.

for the first time since your arrival, you had become a burden. it did not escape lady elinor's notice. before you realized she had crossed the room, she was already standing before you. you lowered your gaze at once.

"how may i serve you, my lady?" silence. then a quiet, disapproving breath. "you have been utterly useless today." her voice was composed, though no less cutting for it. "almost an embarrassment to this household." you swallowed hard. "i command you to go to the chapel at once." another pause. "perhaps god will return your senses before i dismiss you from my service and your family's name is stained by your failure."

your eyes lifted instinctively, already shimmering with restrained tears. "go." she struck one silk-gloved hand lightly against the other. the sound alone made you flinch. "yes, my lady." you curtsied immediately before hurrying from the room, your head lowered the entire way.

it ought to have felt like a kindness. a brief escape from work. instead it felt like public humiliation. every servant had heard. every servant had watched. your eyes burned fiercely. you brushed away a single tear before anyone else could notice, forcing yourself to breathe evenly.

no one must see you cry. what if someone questioned why? what answer could you possibly give? that your heart had begun mourning a man who had never truly belonged to you? that would not merely be foolish. it would be treason.

⠀

 ⋆ ✦ ⋆ 

⠀

the air within the chapel felt different. cooler. quieter. the moment you stepped through its heavy doors, the noise of the castle seemed to remain behind, swallowed by ancient stone.

you walked slowly toward the altar. candles burned steadily in polished silver holders, their flames dancing softly in the stillness. at the center rested a great bible, worn with age, its pages spread open as though waiting for those who had nowhere else to lay their burdens.

you stopped before it. closing your eyes, you drew one slow breath before lowering yourself onto your knees. your hands folded together instinctively. your lips moved without sound.

⠀

dear lord. take this sin from my heart. lift this weight from my soul. forgive the greed that has found its home within me. i belong only to you. let my heart remain pure in your name. amen.

⠀

a single tear escaped before you could stop it, tracing silently down your cheek. speaking the prayer had made it real. there was relief in surrendering the words but there was pain in finally admitting them. you drew another slow breath - and stopped. that scent. leather. lavender. something herbal beneath it. you knew it.

before your eyes had even opened, you felt another presence kneel beside you. close enough that you could sense the warmth of him. your pulse stumbled. slowly you turned your head. a few loose strands of pale blond hair had fallen forward beside his face.

baron hollis

his eyes remained closed. yet somehow he knew you were looking. a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "my lord..." you whispered immediately, lowering your head once more. "forgive me. i did not know you were here."

silence answered you. you should leave. your prayer was finished. you had confessed your sin. there was no reason to remain. except your heart refused to obey. look at him. just once. see what his eyes have to say. before reason could reclaim you, longing won.

you lifted your gaze. his eyes were already on you. warm. gentle. as though he had been waiting for you to look. they searched your face without hurry. lingering. his expression changed almost instantly. "your eyes..." you blinked. "my lord?" - "they are red." you looked away at once. "i fear it is only an allergy... or something of the sort."

he said nothing. instead his hand rose. for a heartbeat, it hovered before your face, as though even he questioned whether he had the right. then two fingers settled gently beneath your chin. he lifted it just enough for the light to reach your face. his thumb brushed no farther than necessary. his gaze moved slowly across your eyes, then lower. following the pale tracks your tears had left upon your cheeks. his jaw tightened. "these," he said quietly "were not caused by an allergy."

you blinked, gently drawing yourself from his hand. "and even if they were..." you whispered "it would change nothing." he let his hand fall and nodded once. "i know grief when i see it." his voice remained low, almost swallowed by the quiet of the chapel. "not the kind carried by the body." his eyes found yours again. "the kind carried by the soul."

you held his gaze. there was no command in it. no distance. only an unbearable tenderness that made it impossible to look away. silence settled between you. the candles flickered softly before the altar. you knew you ought to let the moment end. you ought to leave. you had already said too much. already felt too much.

yet one question had lived inside you since the previous evening, refusing to be buried. your eyes drifted toward the altar. his followed.

"did you show her... the same place?" the words were scarcely louder than a prayer. he did not look at you. he did not hesitate. it was as though he had expected the question long before you found the courage to ask it. "no." the answer came quietly. his gaze remained fixed upon the cross before him. "never."

then, without warning, something changed. the softness vanished from his expression. his entire posture stiffened, every muscle in his body drawing taut. his gaze flickered briefly toward the chapel entrance before returning to the altar. for the first time since you had met him, he looked uneasy.

as though he had suddenly remembered something. or someone. he rose so abruptly that it startled you. "my lord?" you asked quietly. he did not answer. not an apology. not an explanation.

without another glance in your direction, he turned and crossed the chapel in hurried strides. a moment later, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the empty hall. and just like that, he was gone. once again, he had left you with more questions than answers.

⠀

 ⋆ ✦ ⋆ 

⠀

after remaining in the chapel for a little while longer, you finally rose to your feet. the castle would not wait for your sorrow. there was work to be done. preparations that would continue with or without you.

you made your way back through the stone corridors, trying not to dwell on what had just passed between you, and yet your thoughts refused to obey.

he had not shown lady elinor. the cliffs. the stars. the place where the entire realm seemed to rest beneath the heavens. it had belonged only to the two of you. a secret. something no one else shared. the thought settled quietly within your chest, bringing with it a warmth you knew you should not welcome.

you continued walking until voices reached your ears. two of them. both male. one was deep and commanding. the other quieter. restrained. carrying a weariness you had never heard before.

your steps slowed. you should not listen. curiosity was no virtue. it was temptation. and temptation was sin. still, when you realized the voices belonged to the old baron and hollis, your feet refused to move.

you glanced once along the empty corridor. no servants. no guards. no one. almost against your own will, you stepped closer and rested lightly against the heavy wooden door, your breath held as the voices on the other side continued.

"...i hope my guard was mistaken." the old barons voice was low, yet every word reached you through the heavy oak door. "i truly do." silence. "because if he was..." a brief pause followed. "...then this conversation ends here."

you held your breath.

"but if he was not..." another silence. "...if there truly was a maid seated before you on morcant..." his voice grew colder "...then you have disgraced this house." - "father..." hollis voice came quietly. "nothing happened." - "i pray that is the truth." the old baron answered at once. "for your sake." the silence that followed felt endless.

"listen carefully. i will choose to believe that my guard's eyes deceived him. i will believe that no son of mine would forget his duty so completely... do not make me regret that mercy."

your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.

"because if i hear so much as one more whisper, one more report, one more rumor placing you beside that girl," his next words came so quietly you almost wished you had not heard them. "i shall have her brought before me..."

silence

"i will place your sword right into your hands," your blood ran cold. "you will force her to her knees... and you will behead her yourself." nothing. not a single word. only your own breathing.

after what felt like an eternity, hollis finally spoke: "yes, father." - "good." the old barons voice softened once more. "then pray my guard was mistaken -

for both your sakes."

⠀

 ⋆ ✦ ⋆ 

⠀

⌖

⠀

info: this story only goes so far... and then it's your turn. once you reach the ending, you get to decide what happens next by writing your own continuation. every ending is canon in its own way and i can't wait to see where you take it. if you join in, please tag me in your story so i can repost it for everyone to read. i'm so excited to turn this into a little 2tumblr project and i'm even more excited to see all the different endings you'll come up with <3

⠀

⌖

⠀

today was one of those boring office days - the kind you hated.

somehow you'd ended up as a special agent for one of the country's most classified government divisions. and while the paperwork, reports and endless hours behind a computer were technically part of the job, they were never the reason you stayed.

your favorite part had always been the missions. following suspects through crowded streets. uncovering secrets no one else would ever know. connecting pieces that didn't seem to fit until suddenly they did. every assignment felt different. dangerous. unpredictable. that rush was exactly why you loved this job. which also explained why you absolutely despised days like today.

your third coffee sat forgotten beside your keyboard as you leaned closer to your monitor, trying for what felt like the hundredth time to access an encrypted case file. after several failed attempts, you let out a quiet sigh. then your work phone buzzed. immediately your attention shifted.

boss: my office. 10 minutes.

a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. messages like that never meant paperwork. they meant a mission. without a second thought, you closed the encrypted portal on your screen. someone else could spend the rest of the day buried in files and security reports. you'd much rather be out in the field.

⠀

⌖

⠀

ten minutes later you were on your way to your commanding officer's office. the elevator doors slid open and you made your way down the long, lifeless hallway, already wondering where this mission would take you next. you knocked twice. "come in."

a small smile found its way onto your face as you stepped inside. it disappeared just as quickly. sitting across from your commanding officer at the large glass conference table was the one coworker you couldn't stand.

agent herndon

or hollis, if you absolutely had to use his first name. though with an ego like his, he much preferred his last. not that you spoke to him often.

the dislike between the two of you had always been mutual. whenever possible, the agency assigned you to separate missions just to avoid the inevitable arguments. which begged the question:

what the hell was he doing here?

you tried your best not to let your disappointment show. walking past him, you lowered yourself into one of the chrome and black leather chairs opposite the desk, crossing one leg over the other before looking straight at your commanding officer.

not that agent herndon deserved a greeting. he hadn't even looked at you since you'd walked in.

"glad you could make it, ms. y/ln." you offered him a polite smile. "of course, sir. how can i help?" he nodded, seemingly pleased by your enthusiasm, before sliding a thick file across the glass table. without hesitation you picked it up.

⠀

MISSION: WHITE DRESS

⠀

you frowned "...what exactly does that mean? am i hunting a ghost? some kind of paranormal activity in the white house?" your commanding officer let out a quiet laugh. beside you, agent herndon only sighed.

"now that would be an interesting assignment, wouldn't it, agent herndon?" for the first time since you'd entered the room, the agent looked up. "i'd rather retire."

the officer chuckled but the room quickly fell quiet again. the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. he looked between the two of you before folding his hands on the desk.

"first things first. you won't be handling this mission alone, ms. y/ln." you already knew where this was going. "agent herndon will be joining you." you stared at him for a second before looking back at your commanding officer. "joining me where?" - "on the mission." - "...and why exactly does it have to be agent herndon?"

the words had barely left your mouth before you felt it. his gaze. sharp enough to burn straight through your skin. how dare you question him in front of your commanding officer?

"well," your commanding officer began, leaning back in his chair "agent herndon is the only one in the division whose cover with you would actually be believable." you frowned. "cover?" he simply nodded and tapped the file in front of you.

⠀

MISSION: WHITE DRESS

⠀

without another word, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small red velvet box. he opened it. inside lay two simple gold wedding rings. "congratulations, mr. and mrs. herndon." he smiled far too proudly. "as of today... you're married."

your jaw nearly hit the floor. for the first time since entering the room, even agent herndon looked genuinely caught off guard. before you could process what you'd just heard, he reached across the table, picked up one of the rings and turned it between his fingers.

"...sir." he said, unusually calm, "with all due respect, are you absolutely sure there's no one else?" your commanding officer tilted his head. "i wish there was." his gaze wandered between the two of you. "if i had another pairing that made sense, i would've chosen it, trust me."

you took a slow breath before resting your forearms on your knee. "alright." you said. "let's skip the wedding talk. what's the mission?" your commanding officer let out a quiet breath of relief. finally. back to business.

"we have reason to believe there's a traitor inside the government. someone has been leaking highly classified information to foreign intelligence agencies." he opened the file and slid a photograph across the table.

"we don't know who it is. but after months of surveillance and internal investigations, we've narrowed it down." his finger tapped the image. "tomorrow evening, every person on our suspect list will be attending the same private dinner."

you glanced down at the guest list. politicians. senior advisors. foreign diplomats. people who could start, or end, wars with a single phone call.

"and that's where you come in." he looked between you and agent herndon. "you'll attend as a newly married couple." you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

"people trust couples. especially newlyweds. they're approachable. harmless. no one questions why a husband and wife are talking to guests, asking questions or moving around the venue together."

his gaze shifted. "agent herndon is already acquainted with several of the attendees. they'll be curious to meet his wife, which gives you an opening." he paused. "to everyone else, you'll simply be mr. and mrs. herndon."

another brief silence filled the room.

"what they don't know..." his eyes met yours. "...is that you're both government agents, and i'd like to keep it that way." agent herndon nodded without hesitation. "understood, sir." you gave a small nod as well. "so we show up tomorrow, play the happy couple and keep an eye on the suspects." - "exactly."

your commanding officer folded his hands on the desk. "and you do it together. these people are experienced. politicians, intelligence officials, diplomats... they've spent their entire careers reading people. the second either of you acts out of character, they'll know something's wrong."

"don't worry." you replied confidently. "they won't suspect a thing." he smiled. "that's what i wanted to hear." his eyes moved between you two. "you're two of the best agents this division has. i know you'll handle this professionally."

he gently pushed the velvet box and the mission files toward you. "everything you need is in those files." you picked yours up. "your cover identities. your relationship. how you met, when you got married, where you supposedly live, even your honeymoon." your eyebrows lifted. "memorize it. every detail."

he stood from his chair. "tomorrow at 6pm, a driver will be waiting outside headquarters. dress accordingly. it's a black tie dinner on a private estate." you let out a quiet breath. "got it. is that everything?" - "that'll be all."

he offered you a polite smile before walking around the desk to open the door himself. "thank you for your service, ms. y/ln." - "thank you, sir." as you stepped into the hallway, you glanced back at agent herndon. he returned the look with a brief, almost reluctant nod. then the door closed behind you.

⠀

⌖

⠀

back in your office, you let yourself fall into your chair with a heavy sigh. god. for the first time in your career, paperwork suddenly sounded more appealing than tomorrow night's mission.

tomorrow you'd be attending an exclusive dinner. as the wife of mr. hollis herndon. you let your head fall back against the chair and closed your eyes. why?

a knock never came. instead your office door opened. your eyes snapped open. agent herndon. he stepped inside without a word before placing something onto your glass desk with a quiet clink. your wedding ring.

"you forgot this." your eyes dropped to his hand. long fingers. pale skin. prominent veins disappearing beneath the cuff of his black shirt.

"try not to lose it." he said. "those things aren't cheap." you rolled your eyes. "i'm aware." he raised an eyebrow. "a thank you would've worked too." you forced the fakest smile you could manage.

"thank you." it sounded anything but grateful. a brief silence settled between the two of you before you sighed. "...i still don't know how we're supposed to pull this off." he shrugged as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "it's a job. just do what i tell you and stick to the cover."

your chair scraped against the floor as you stood. "do what you tell me?" the corner of his mouth lifted. barely. "i know the guests. i know how these events work." his eyes drifted to the ring lying on your desk. "tomorrow, you're just my wife." - "get out." he didn't argue, and just like that he was gone.

⠀

⌖

⠀

day of the mission - 5:30 pm

the taxi rolled through the city while you watched the streets blur past the window. you looked down at yourself for what had to be the tenth time.

a deep red silk dress hugged your figure perfectly. elegant enough for a room full of politicians, expensive enough not to raise suspicion and just flattering enough to make you feel slightly uncomfortable.

your hair had been pinned up, leaving a few loose strands framing your face. the heels, however... you hated them. whoever had decided spies should wear heels deserved prison.

the taxi came to a stop outside headquarters. you paid the driver, stepped out carefully and made your way inside. the lobby was nearly empty. then you saw him. agent herndon

he was already waiting by the entrance. black tailored suit. white dress shirt. dark tie. for a brief second, you had to admit he cleaned up surprisingly well - not that you'd ever tell him.

his eyes found you the moment you approached, and stayed there. longer than either of you expected. he'd never seen you like this before. normally you wore tactical gear, bulletproof vests or oversized agency hoodies after late shifts.

now you looked nothing like the agent he argued with every other week. the red silk caught the evening light as you walked toward him. for the first time since you'd met, agent herndon didn't have a sarcastic comment ready. he simply looked.

you raised an eyebrow. "...done staring?" he cleared his throat almost immediately. "those shoes look impractical." you looked down. "they are." - "good." - "...good?" - "means if we have to run, i'm faster." - "you're unbelievable." - "that's what i've been told."

without another word, you reached into your clutch and pulled out the plain gold wedding ring. he held out his hand. the two of you slipped them onto your fingers in complete silence.

headlights swept across the pavement. a black limousine pulled up in front of the building. the driver stepped out and opened the rear door. before you could move, agent herndon walked around the car and held the door open for you.

you blinked. "...wow." he looked at you. "how thoughtful." the sarcasm in your voice couldn't have been more obvious. he only shrugged. "figured i'd better start acting like a husband." you couldn't help the quiet scoff that escaped you. "don't get used to it." - "trust me," he said as you climbed into the back seat. "i won't."

a second later, he slid in beside you. the door closed. and the car pulled away toward the mission.

⠀

⌖

⠀

the black limousine rolled to a stop in front of an enormous estate. a beautifully restored historic building, guarded by iron gates and surrounded by perfectly trimmed gardens. whoever was hosting tonight's dinner had money. a lot of it. probably a lobbyist, or someone even more powerful.

"ready?" agent herndon's voice pulled you from your thoughts. you looked over at him. "almost." opening your clutch, you reached inside and pulled out your handgun. lifting the slit of your dress just enough, you secured it beneath the fabric against the holster strapped around your thigh. the movement was quick. practiced.

you could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up. "is something wrong?" you asked casually, still adjusting the weapon. he blinked once before looking away. "...couldn't you have done that earlier?"

you smirked. "this thing is uncomfortable enough already. i'd rather wear it for as little time as possible." after one final check, you let the silk fall back into place and met his eyes again. "now i'm ready." he gave a single nod. then he stepped out of the car.

a moment later your door opened. he stood there, one hand holding it open while the other was extended toward you. you stared at it. "...you're kidding." - "unless you want us to blow our cover before we even make it inside."

you bit the inside of your cheek. annoyingly, he had a point. with an exaggerated sigh, you placed your hand in his. he helped you out of the car but instead of letting go, his fingers stayed intertwined with yours. firm. steady. like that was exactly where they belonged.

the chauffeur pulled away, leaving the two of you standing alone beneath the warm glow of the entrance lights.

hand in hand, you started walking toward the building. his hand completely swallowed yours. larger. warmer. his grip was secure. more secure than it actually needed to be. then again... he was an agent. keeping people safe was part of the job. you'd expected this to feel a lot worse. truthfully, it wasn't so bad - as long as he kept his mouth shut.

⠀

⌖

⠀

the massive oak doors towered above the entrance, framed by marble columns and watched over by two suited security guards. before either of you could step inside, an older man in a perfectly tailored black suit approached with a polite smile.

"a name, please?" agent herndon didn't hesitate for a second. "mr. and mrs. herndon." the butler glanced down at the guest list in his hands before a smile spread across his face. "of course. welcome, mr. and mrs. herndon. we've been expecting you." with a respectful nod, he stepped aside.

the doors slowly swung open. warm light spilled into the night. the sound of a string quartet echoed through the grand entrance hall, accompanied by quiet conversations and the soft clinking of crystal glasses.

every surface seemed to glow. marble floors. gold details. towering chandeliers. politicians, diplomats and wealthy donors filled the room in perfectly tailored suits and elegant evening gowns. and almost immediately you felt it. the stares.

you and hollis were easily the youngest people in the room. a server appeared beside you carrying a silver tray. without asking, hollis picked up two champagne flutes. he handed one to you before lightly tapping his glass against yours. "to the mission." the quiet clink echoed between you. you took a small sip.

the champagne was expensive. far better than anything you'd ever willingly paid for yourself. maybe it would help. just enough to loosen the knot in your stomach. because every pair of eyes that landed on the two of you reminded you of one thing. from this moment on you weren't agents anymore. you were husband and wife.

"mr. herndon!" a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. an older man with silver hair approached, a warm smile spreading across his face. "what a pleasure to finally have you here." agent herndon smiled just as naturally. "thank you for having us."

the man turned toward you with genuine curiosity. "and this must be..." before you could answer, you felt a familiar hand settle gently against your waist. agent herndon effortlessly pulled you a little closer to his side. "...my wife."

for a second, your brain completely stopped working. right. wife. you looked up at the older gentleman and forced the sweetest smile you could manage. "it's lovely to meet you." he chuckled. "mrs. herndon, welcome." you gave a small nod. "thank you for inviting us."

if anyone had looked closely enough, they might have noticed how fast your heart was beating. fortunately, nobody did.

⠀

⌖

⠀

after what felt like an endless number of introductions, polite smiles and conversations with people whose names carried far too much political influence, you and agent herndon finally found yourselves standing off to the side of the ballroom.

you took another sip of your champagne. "so..." you glanced over at him. "how are you enjoying the evening so far, agent?" he stepped a little closer. not because he wanted to, but because he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"from now on," he said quietly "call me hollis." you looked at him. "...excuse me?" - "we're supposed to be married." his eyes briefly scanned the room before returning to yours. "using my last name every five seconds isn't exactly helping."

you couldn't argue with that. instead you held out your hand with exaggerated politeness. "nice to meet you then, hollis." you smiled innocently. "i'm y/n." the corner of his mouth twitched. "i know."

for a moment the two of you simply watched the room. politicians laughed over expensive whiskey. advisors whispered in small groups. servers moved silently between them with silver trays balanced perfectly in their hands.

"noticed anything?" hollis asked without taking his eyes off the crowd. you gave a small shrug. "not yet, but-"

"mr. and mrs. herndon!" the host approached once again. "we're about to begin the first dance of the evening. it would be an honor to have our newest married couple join us." before you had the chance to invent an excuse, hollis smiled. "we'd love to." you almost choked on your champagne. "wonderful!" the older man clapped his hands together. "i'll see you on the dance floor."

the second he disappeared into the crowd, you turned to hollis. "...seriously?" he answered by taking your hand. "come on." your eyes widened. "have you lost your mind?" his grip tightened ever so slightly. "not here." his voice remained calm. "people are watching."

you followed his gaze. he was right. dozens of eyes were already drifting toward the dance floor. with a quiet sigh, you let him lead you across the polished white marble. a waiter stepped forward and collected your champagne flutes before either of you had the chance to protest. then the music changed.

suddenly you were standing face to face. hollis rested one hand carefully against your waist. the other remained intertwined with yours. for a second you forgot to breathe.

his hand rested against the thin silk of your dress. close enough that you could almost convince yourself you felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric. he looked down at you. "you planning on dancing?" your mouth parted. "...right."

clearing your throat, you lifted your free hand and rested it lightly on his shoulder before sliding it around the back of his neck. the distance between you disappeared. close enough for anyone watching to believe you were exactly what you claimed to be. a happily married couple.

your heartbeat picked up. probably because half the room was watching. or maybe it was the champagne. at least that's what you told yourself.

⠀

⌖

⠀

the first few moments felt painfully awkward. every step seemed rehearsed. every movement calculated. you were painfully aware of the hand resting against your waist, of your own fingers around the back of his neck and of the eyes following the two of you across the dance floor. you couldn't wait for the song to end.

but then somewhere, between another turn and another step, it stopped feeling so forced. without exchanging a single word, the two of you slowly found the same rhythm. the dance became easier. almost effortless.

hollis guided you into another slow turn before leaning down just enough for his lips to brush past your ear. "don't make it obvious." you frowned ever so slightly. "three o'clock." your eyes stayed on him. "don't look yet." his voice remained calm. "three men." a beat passed. "they've been watching us ever since we walked in."

your stomach tightened. as naturally as possible, you let your eyes wander across the ballroom during the next turn. there they were. three men. none of them smiled. none of them spoke. they were simply watching. studying. judging every movement the two of you made.

"they think something's off." you whispered. "maybe." another slow step. "or they're trying to figure out if we're exactly who we claim to be." you swallowed. "what do we do?" he stayed quiet for a few seconds. thinking. his thumb absentmindedly brushed against the fabric at your waist. then his eyes met yours.

⠀

"...kiss me."

⠀

you blinked. "what?" - "they're looking for cracks." his expression never changed. "a married couple wouldn't hesitate." you stared at him "you can't be serious." his eyebrow lifted slightly. "do you have a better idea?"

silence. then your gaze slowly met his. his eyes searched yours. patient. expectant. waiting for you to close the distance...

⠀

⌖

⠀

and that's where my part ends. from here on it's all yours!

everyone is invited to write their own ending and post it whenever you feel like it. there's no deadline, so take your time and have fun with it.

and if you've never posted a fic before or you're worried that your writing "isn't good enough", this is your sign to give it a try anyway. this project isn't about who's the best writer. it's about having fun, sharing ideas and creating something together.

i genuinely can't wait to read every single version you come up with. don't forget to tag me so i can read and repost your story. i already know you're all going to make this so much more special than i ever could on my own <3

⠀

⌖

⠀