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There are times when you wonder what the purpose of this circus was. You painted your faces, dressed up in --frankly quite gaudy-- extravagant attire and danced to mindless, forgettable music. Yes, these highbrow aristocratic parties were nothing more than that: a circus for the rich and famous to show their wealth and brag. Still -- your family ties required you to attend the festivities at the Joestar manor that night. Had you been given the choice, you would be elsewhere, far away from tonight’s grand soiree.
You observed the crowd with disinterest -- following their flowing stride across the ballroom. A romantic dance was not on your schedule tonight, though you had to admit the couples looked quite regal as they passed. Unfortunately, none of the men present had caught your interest. You’d been instructed by your father to look as desirable as possible tonight --all in hopes of attracting a suitor of course. You were no fool. The only reason he’d demanded your presence was for you to catch the young Jonathan Joestar’s eye. He was a bachelor -- and a rich one at that.
So, you’d made it your mission to defy him. Dance, you would --but it would be an act of rebellion.
'Anyone but Dio Brando,’ were your father’s exact words when you asked him what kind of person he would gift his daughter’s hand. What the young man had done to warrant such disdain from your father you did not know, nor did you care. It would certainly cause a scene should you choose to spend the evening with the Joestars’ adopted son.
Which is exactly why you wasted no time approaching the blonde when he appeared atop the stairs. You tapped his shoulder gently, smiling as he turned to greet your presence with a disinterested scowl.
“I know this is unprecedented, but would you do me the honours of a dance, Lord Dio?” you asked, lifting your skirts slightly as you curtsied.
“Tell me, why should I waste my time with a forgettable, plain-looking wench?” he snapped, harsh golden eyes piercing your own. “Run along now, I don’t have time for dancing.” The man smirked --mastering a grin so vicious it gave you an inkling as to why your father did not approve of him. It dripped with connived amusement --he wanted to hurt your feelings.
He was perfect.
“To anger an old fool who thinks I should marry rich and pretend to love a man of little--substance?” Your eyes darted towards Jonathan and Dio’s followed --catching the hint.
Dio put a hand to his chin, thinking over your proposal. You could see him consider your words carefully. Perhaps you had misjudged the relationship between him and his adoptive brother. You’d heard the two were bitter rivals and had hoped to capitalise on that. Seconds passed, and you felt like you may be forced to abandon your plot --that is until the blonde walked down the steps and offered his hand.
“For a lady in need, then,” he said as you accepted his offer, pulling you close to his side.
The music swelled as you made your way into the crowd. People parted to let you pass as Dio marched towards the centre of the floor. If you were to anger your father -- you ought do it right, and Dio seemed to agree. He spun you into his arms, a single hand landing on your waist while the other tenderly grasped yours. Your eyes darted around the room, looking for the enraged expression undoubtedly plastered on your father’s face. You found him next to George Joestar -- eyes flaring up as you smiled sweetly at him from within the arms of Dio Brando. A chuckle came from your partner as well, and you caught him staring into the judging eyes of your dear father --fearless and taunting. What a splendid choice you’d made.
“Shall we, my dear?” he whispered, drawing you close against his chest --too close, some more conservative members of tonight’s gathering would argue.
You nodded, returning his conspiring smirk with one of your own. Dio wasted no more time on words. His feet expertly manoeuvred across the marbled flooring, guiding the both of you into the dancing crowd. You joined the other couples seamlessly, merging into the twirling circles of lace and silk dresses like intended. His hand gripped your waist, brushing against the small of your back like one would hold a lover --it would drive your father mad to see this, and the thought made you smile. Dio evidently shared this sentiment, chuckling as he watched your expression change.
Why had he accepted your proposal? For fun, mostly --and he could not say he regretted it so far. Watching you become increasingly more emboldened with each step caused Dio’s heart to soar. You had been wronged and instead of sitting by and letting it happen, you had chosen to retaliate --and he liked that about you. Most women were too dense to care. It was refreshing to see one so set on retribution. His hands trailed up the sides of your arms as you danced -- you returned the motion, brushing your fingers against his as they moved to twirl your body into his. You spun along to the music, certain Dio would not allow you to fall. Indeed, every time you felt like flying away, his grounding grasp found your body, guiding you back to him. You closed your eyes, allowing the man to carry your movements.
You wondered if you looked as beautiful as those other couples -- if you flowed as gracefully into one another as they did. It had to be. The waltz seemed almost effortless in Dio’s arms. In your mind’s eye, none looked as beautiful as the both of you in this moment. You felt weightless, soaring in an endless sky with Dio as your guide. Your eyes fluttered open to find the man’s piercing gaze transfixed upon your face. There was a gleam to his expression that made your heart stutter. Your cheeks flared up, eyes struggling to escape his captivating stare. The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk as he caught sight of your creeping blush: he could see how flustered he’d made you feel and it filled his chest with pride. You, who so boldly stated to only dance with him to antagonize her father, now fell victim to his charm.
All others faded from view. Dio was the only one who mattered anymore. You no longer felt the need to put on a show -- your reason for dancing with this man long forgotten. He overpowered your senses, drowning out everything but himself and the music. The ballroom, the Joestars, the crowd --all vanished before your eyes. All but him. Dio smirked down at you, then lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed little more than a bag of feathers. Your breath caught in your throat as he whirled you around, barely straining to hold your person. He brought you down, catching you within his arms like a newlywed bride. Dio held onto you like this, inching his face closer to yours until your noses brushed just barely. His breath fanned against your lips, tantalizingly close and somewhat laboured. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips in anticipation --but before anything could happen, Dio dropped you. While he was gentle in doing so, you knew he’d done it on purpose.
The smirk on his face made sure you would not forget who you were dancing with.
Your forearms brushed against each other, skin rolling off skin -- never leaving the other waiting for long. Always touching, no matter how far apart you went. Even by the slightest touch of a finger, Dio always had a hand on you. He glowered a look at any man who dare approach for a change of partners, possessively pulling you into his chest whenever one tried. Tonight, you were his. You were beginning to understand that now. While you had instigated this little plan, Dio now held the strings.
You hadn’t even noticed the crowd thinning until you were well and truly alone on the floor. Suddenly, the scene came flooding back to you -- your mind released from Dio’s intoxicating presence. Dio bowed, as did you while a round of applause sounded from the onlookers.
Your father barged through the amassed audience, shoving noblemen aside left and right until he finally broke through the crowd. As soon as he did, your heads snapped towards him in unison. He was livid: face flushed with rage and disgust. You froze on the spot, but Dio had other plans. He grabbed your hand, and bolted. You ran as fast as your feet would carry you, passing hall after hall until you finally found yourselves outside. The bellowing voice of your father’s protest chased after you, but by the time you’d made it to the gardens he’d given up on his pursuit.
Dio skid to a stop near the fountain, sitting down on its edge to catch his breath. You joined him.
“That-” you breathed out, “That was fun.”
“Indeed it was.” Dio leaned back, brushing his golden hair from his eyes --it had gotten a bit messy during your escape and was in dire need of a little fixing.
“Thank you.” Your words caught him off-guard. Dio glanced over at you, watching your smile grow beneath the dim moonlight. You looked a lot happier than when he’d first laid eyes on you earlier this evening. It was a welcome sight. Despite himself, he’d had fun as well. There’s nothing quite like antagonising a few nobles.
Perhaps, he could entertain you a bit more?
“I couldn’t have done this withou--” Your words were cut short by a pair of lips.
Dio grasped the back of your head, gently pulling you into a kiss. Your face burned, bright with an intense blush. His fingers brushed the back of your head, tangling with your soft locks --almost like he feared you might escape. You had no intention of doing so, melting into his touch like you craved it more than life. His mouth briefly left yours as he closed the distance between you, scooting closer to truly overwhelm your senses. Your chest grazed against his as he returned to your lips --with a vengeance it seemed. It almost felt like he was devouring you whole. You were not entirely sure he wasn’t, until he drew back.
“Dio Brando!” your father’s voice cut through the silence. The man had found you both at last. He advanced down the stairs without hesitation, headed straight for the blonde deviant.
Dio simply chuckled in response, and stood. “It’s been a pleasure, milady,” he said before darting off onto the mansion grounds -- your furious father hot on his heels.
Yes, these gatherings were a circus often times --might as well have fun while you’re there.