aria didn’t want to come to the ball, she hated the whole ‘cake your face with makeup and blink innocently to look pretty and like a present for the taking’ vibe these events hinted at for females. but she also hated that she couldn’t go with mark. not that he knows though. and she doesn’t forget that it is purely her fault that he has another girl as his date.
she tries to make her dress not flow so much - is that even the right word? - but the silk was impossible to tame and aria huffs, trying not to trip as she tiptoes down the flight of stairs halfway through.
everyone is already milling about, some people looked half-drunk already and aria is kinda really glad she can sort of blend into the crowd and be inconspicious.
but she regrets this already, it was awkward coming alone and some girls were beginning to laugh at her, she knows it, they are laughing at her.
(maybe not, but she is self-conscious, as always, whenever she’s in a fucking gown.)
Although it was a school ball, events like this do nothing but make Mark feel stiff. From the way the material of the dress robes hugs at the expanse of his shoulders, to the formal way they were encouraged to dance. Honestly it does nothing but reminds him of the balls his grandparents forced him to attend. If he tries hard enough, he probably could still hear his grandmother counting in his head as his feet moved in tune to the music. Excusing himself from Estelle, Mark made his way to the nearest table filled to the brim with food and punch bowls.
As his hand wraps around a full cup of punch, his eyes rove over the heavily decorated room. He’s fully convinced that Aria wouldn’t even step foot in here and it’s been weeks since he’s even been able to talk to her. Instead every time they lock eyes, she seemed to do nothing but flee in the opposite direction.
Lifting the goblet to his lips, he took a giant gulp, feeling hot beneath a large amounts of lamps and torches. Imagine his surprise to see Aria near the back of the room, milling about with a huge crowd of other students from various houses and years. Taking another gulp, he licked his lips and set the goblet down on the table. Moving through the crowd was near torture but what seemed like hours was probably only a few minutes until he was standing before her. “Hey.” Mark’s words are soft as he rubbed at the back of his neck in nerves.