A small hand, covered by black lace gloves grasped the champagne glass in its grip, crimson eyes glancing around the room she currently found herself standing in. The string quartet played a soft, harmonious song, the sound reverberating throughout the grand ballroom and the redhead couldn’t help but appreciate their taste. She always had a thing for music, the sound of the violins had her heart feeling heavy, no matter how light the rhythm may be. The flute was brought up to her vivid lips, drinking down the last of its contents. She could feel the eyes on her, practically feel their judgments burning into her skin, but such thoughts merely had a smirk forming on those plump lips as she sat the glass down on a tray one of the servers carried with them.
Lyrica was all too familiar with the judgments of others, whether it be for her sense of style and the way she carries herself, even for her being the niece of Hades. She had grown used to such looks and comments murmured under their breath to another in the assumption that she couldn’t hear them. Little did they know that she always heard them and she relished in that feeling. Knowing how much she was able to affect those around her with so very little effort. A soft sigh escaped, the Halfbreed finding the room to be a little too stuffy for her taste. Reaching up, she grabbed yet another glass of the exquisite champagne before she made her way around the ballroom.
She avoided the dancefloor like it was the black plague, going around it as those lovely black stilettos clicked against the wood floors beneath her feet. It didn’t take long before she was outside, a gaze aimed towards the night sky, if only briefly, to take in the sight of the stars shining so brightly before moving on. She walked around the side, eyes searching for the gardens she had seen from one of the windows as the long elegant dress swept the ground as she walked. As the gardens came into view, so did the figure of a man standing there. It seems she was not the only one wishing to escape the crowd inside. She allowed herself but a moment to admire from a distance before she began the trek through the small garden path.
The scent of flowers was thick in the air, mixing with her own natural scent of vanilla and cinnamon as she walked. It was breathtaking, really and a much better sight than what was inside. As she grew closer to the man standing there, her eyes met his, holding it for barely long enough to see the color before she turned those vivid eyes towards the fountain in the center and stopped just beside it.
