“Alice, hm?” Alice, as in Wonderland, though Kyoya refrained from saying so. It was a tale which had held magnetism with him as a child; it was frustrating in its absurdity, yet captivating in a way which made him all the more confused and annoyed. “It means nobility, if I’m not mistaken.” Interesting. “No last name to join it? Must be lonely,” he hummed as he turned her under his arm before falling back into their prior position.
Was she purposefully abstaining from the revelation? It was an odd discrepancy at a party that prided itself on the posh surnames of its guests. “I’m Kyoya.” There was a pause as Kyoya feigned withholding his own last name before he tacked it on with a slight smile. “Ootori.”
Prior to the little interlude, Alice had planned to make a stealthy exit once her task was complete... and it was. However, Mr. Ootori was quickly proving to be a worthy dance partner which was, unfortunately, a rarity for Alice. So, she supposed she could stay a little longer. The little American girl gazed up at the young man, studying his sharp features. Kyoya appeared much younger than most of the crowd, as was she. So, what demanded his presence this evening? A brilliant, young entrepreneur? Perhaps an heir? No matter, it was apparent he wasn’t shacked up in some tiny single room apartment, purchasing all of his meals from the nearby konbini. NEETs didn’t wander into galas in tailored suits.
“Quite ironic, if you ask me...,” she’d mutter under her breath. How the hell did this guy know the meaning to a western name? What other kinds of trivia did he have tucked away in his brain?
“Hart,” she sighs and nods, giving in to his hints, “Alice Hart. And it’s a pleasure to dance with you tonight, Mr. Ootori. I think you’ve proven that you can carry yourself on the dance floor.”
She gazes over his shoulder for a brief moment. In the distance, she can see the woman from earlier approaching her now ex-lover. As distressed as the woman may appear, she does not appear to be backing out of their agreement. The man appears to plead with her, gripping her by the arm as she tries to walk away. The woman quickly exits the ballroom, leaving him behind, throwing a napkin to the floor in defeat.
Those vivid eyes of hers once again meet Kyoya’s.
“So, where did you learn how to dance?” Alice inquires, “It’s not every day I just happen upon a younger fellow who can waltz.”
As much as she wishes to keep her eyes locked on the charming fellow in her current company, the thief can’t help but keep glancing at the man across the room. And after a full turn, she seems to have caught the man’s attention as well, or rather... something. Eyes wide, with furrowed brows, the man is now focusing on Alice and the garment she was now wearing.
“Or better yet,” Alice speaks softly, “Maybe it would be best to chat... elsewhere?”