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There were twenty-seven different kinds of little pastries on the refreshments table, approximately a million and two crystals in the grand chandelier glittering above your head, and far too many people with fake smiles milling about for you to have any chance at properly enjoying yourself at this stupid gala. You scooted a bit farther away from the dancefloor before your toes could fall sacrifice to one of the people whirling around—you couldn't tell if their speed was to deter the effects of alcohol or because of it, but either way, the dancers were a definite danger to anyone who strayed too close.
You hid a bored sigh behind a raised hand under the guise of politely covering a cough and fought the urge to roll your eyes as you spotted yet another stage being wheeled out into the corner of the ballroom. The (by now, all too familiar) podium was wheeled out afterwards, creaking beneath the music. The floor cleared somewhat reluctantly as your father made his way up to the podium, the ornamented lapels of his suit jacket glinting under the massive chandelier. He tapped the microphone twice and smiled serenely at the rustling crowd, obviously gearing up for another extended speech.
You slipped backwards into the crowd, moving silently through the mass of people towards the exit—and just as you were about to make your escape, a strong hand caught you by the arm and yanked you to a halt.
"Hey—!"
Your bodyguard's unimpressed gaze froze the word in your mouth. Toji Fushiguro stared down at you—goddamn, he was tall—his fingers firm around your bicep.
"Where ya going?" he drawled, ignoring your attempts to dislodge his grip.
Your brow lowered in frustration and you snapped in your best attempt at haughtiness, "To the ladies' room, not that it's any of your business."
His unimpressed look tilted into a smirk that balanced between boredom and irritation. "I'm getting paid to make it my business. And just in case you want to try lying again, you oughta know the bathrooms are in the other direction. You're not very good at stealing escapes, princess."
If looks could kill, Toji would have dropped dead on the spot. Unfortunately, your glare fell short of literally fatal, serving only to stoke a gleam of amusement in his green eyes. Small consolation that he would have made a terrible bodyguard if dirty looks could take him down.
"Don't call me that." His obvious entertainment at your expense grated at you, but you couldn't explain the rush of heat that flared in your cheeks—safer to shut it down now and bother unpacking it later. You finally managed to dislodge your arm from his grip, although you had a suspicion that was thanks more to him releasing you than you wrenching away. "I'm no princess."
Something in his eyes darkened as he looked you over again, the corner of his mouth tightening almost imperceptibly. "Really? You're rich, kinda weird, and a little bit of a brat. Sounds princess-y enough to me."
Before you could do much more than let your mouth fall open in indignant surprise, Toji's hand landed on your shoulder and you found yourself being pulled forward. You stumbled and all but fell against him, crashing most ungracefully into a surprisingly warm chest—a combination of swear and yelp tangled in your throat as a very drunk gala attendee careened through the space where you'd been standing, spilling a trail of champagne and boisterous slurring about...something.
Toji released you with a slight nudge; cheeks hot, you made a show of dusting yourself off before looking up to meet his knowing smirk.
"You're welcome, princess."
The heat in your cheeks burned hotter and you managed a weak eyeroll as you crossed your arms and switched your gaze to the relatively safe dessert table. You strode determinedly past Toji to the towering structure of cream puffs and snatched one into your mouth to distract yourself from the weight of his watchful, coolly confident gaze. There was caramel drizzled over the pastry, making the cream sticky in your mouth as you chewed furiously.
"You got something on your lip," came a grainy whisper in your ear.
You jerked sideways, heels clacking on the floor before you recovered. Toji straightened up, a canary-eating grin stretched over his lips as he watched you bite back another exclamation.
"Jesus Christ," you hissed, your heart pounding. "You scared me half to death—aren't you supposed to be invested in keeping me alive? Y'know, because you're my bodyguard?"
Toji snorted, crossing his arms across his chest and looking you up and down in a way that made you feel very bare. "Your daddy's paying me to keep you safe," he drawled, his cold eyes resting languidly on yours. "Never said I couldn't keep myself entertained while I do it."
He made a show of glancing around the ballroom, lingering pointedly on the podium where your father was making his third blustery and utterly insufferable speech of the night. The scorn in his gaze burned, but something in you relished the sting, wanted to feel it hotter. Deeper. Longer, searing directly into you instead of by peripheral blows.
"And I gotta be honest with you, princess, all this standing around and whispering behind raised hands is not my idea of a good time."
You pursed your lips and felt a trace of cream on your lower lip; without thinking, you darted your tongue out to lick it off. The taste of caramel and vanilla bloomed on your tongue and Toji's eyes flickered to your mouth.
Oh.
His eyes flickered to your mouth and did not leave.
And you did not think you wanted them to. Something a little bit devious and a lot more fun sprouted in your mind.
"I'm safe with you, right?" you asked casually, lips twisting up in a smirk of your own at Toji as you reached for another cream puff.
One of his dark eyebrows lifted as he watched you. "'S'long as I got a signed contract saying so." His eyes darkened, his voice lowering into a rumbling growl, and you fought back a shiver. "Any other time you'd better make sure we've got the same definition of safe."
You turned the cream puff slowly between your fingers, running the edge of one fingernail over a seam in the pastry and pressing in just enough to make a bit of the filling peek out. "So...I think I'd better stick close to you," you said slowly, watching Toji's face carefully.
His expression stayed unreadable, a mask tinted by the tiniest twist of a lofty smirk, but there was a gleam of interest in his eyes. "For safety. And I think that I'd be much safer somewhere not in this ballroom," you added, sure to draw out the last few words just patronizingly slowly enough that Toji's mask cracked, annoyance bleeding through.
Perfect. There was something so deeply satisfying about knowing that you could get under his skin, make some visible mark on his icy, untouchable visage. As good as lazy confidence looked on him, breaking his arrogant surface brought you a special kind of pleasure.
The thrill in your veins thrummed louder as Toji approached you more quickly than his broad frame suggested he could, arms coming forward to cage you in against the table. If you’d cared more about the social propriety of it all, you would have been relieved to see that the spotlight now focused on your father made sure that no one was even glancing your way, but as it was, you didn't bother disguising the grin that spread over your lips.
"You've sure got some interesting ideas, princess," Toji all but growled, the rough grain of his voice stirring a frisson in the pit of your stomach. "You gonna invite me to the bathroom or what?"
You brought your arm up between the two of you; he was close enough that your knuckles brushed his chest, rustling against the dark fabric clinging so tightly to the curve of his muscles it might as well have been a second skin. Eyes locked on his, you said slyly, "I was thinking something more like that garden labyrinth...but I'll keep your preferences in mind."
The pastry split neatly under your teeth, luscious whipped cream flowering out between your lips as you popped the rest of the cream puff into your mouth and licked your lips slowly.
Toji's eyes glittered. Like a shadow falling over a statue as the sun set, his mask slipped away to reveal hungry intrigue in the lines of his face, a sleek, almost predator-like tension replacing the lazy confidence.
"Let me clear your way then, princess." His voice was low, heavy like silk but so much raspier, scraping deliciously against your skin as his hand glided over your lower back, guiding you through the crowd like a knife cutting through water.
Once you were out of the ballroom and the range of any curious or idle eyes, Toji paused, his hand still on your waist with an odd kind of weight that fell somewhere between obligate protection and willful possession. His eyes slid to the hallway that led to the restrooms, then back to your face with a renewed, dangerous glint, and for one heart-stopping second, you thought he might actually grab your wrist and pull you into the bathroom to make good on your glib remark from earlier.
Then a smirk flashed on his face like the gleam of a razor under light, and he pulled you close with enough force that you stumbled (not that you really resisted) into him again. Your body pressed against his for a second—okay, seriously, was that a gun, or had you really underestimated your talents—before Toji's hand closed around your wrist, the other cupping your neck and pulling your face to his. The kiss was quick, just long enough for him to tug your lower lip between his teeth firm enough to draw a whimper from you, but the savage, sharp-edged grin on his face when he pulled away had you breathless.
"Share next time, princess," was all he said before the lights were blurring around you as he pulled you down a hallway you'd barely noticed earlier, pushing you through a door you were pretty sure should have set off an alarm—and then his mouth was hot on yours, his hands in your hair, on your neck, everywhere, and all you could see in the cool night were stars, glittering green and white against the sky like diamonds.