Dancing. [Prince Adam Oneshot.]
We are all sinners and are gonna go to hell but you know as long as we have fanfics there I’m okay.
Pairing: Implied! - Prince Adam x Female!Reader.
Summary: Haven’t you ever wondered what would happen if you called out a Prince who constantly acted like the world revolved around him?
You had quite a difficult time processing how you had gotten to the moment of standing only a few feet behind Prince Adam, with a silver trimmed and tall stout glass of champagne sitting in your right hand. The ring on your middle finger clicked against the glass shivering out a rather satisfying sound, one of wealth that demanded the most absurd amount of respect. Strangely enough, he hadn’t found any interest in you until this evening despite being invited (more like severely persuaded you come) to many of his parties. They were all the same. The same type of physically appealing people, the same stuffed up atmosphere, the same petty chat from person to person, the same typical dances, and the same type of carefully picked attire.
The Prince, with his naturally strawberry blond hair covered by a long haired wig that twisted into rather exquisite curls near the end, only seemed enthused by the aesthetic of the situation. He himself seemed to be the only thing that changed from event to event. The shades and colors of his face would change, varying in vibrancy depending on the clothing he donned that evening.
This evening—you thought to yourself and scaled your eyes upon the Prince, a few feet in front of you. And yes, this evening he was wearing velvet as usual; A dark purple, or so it appeared in the light of the room. It sparkled if he he caught the candlelight just right and for a split second, Prince Adam looked approachable, as if you wanted to sink into his arms because he closely resembled the shine of the stars. The embroidery on his waistcoat was nothing less than perfection and played along with the fabric as if they were swirled in a dance together. Purple and silver detailing hung closely to the trim of his coat and expanded into flourishes of metallic silver flowers spilling onto the breast of the jacket. Speckles of jewels hit sporadically around the jacket, and down the right and left side clung silver buttons that served no purpose other than appeal. And oddly enough, his jacket looked like the softest material imaginable if you dared to reach out for him.