The night was young, just b on midnight, the inky night sky having settled to a dull and conformist grey; the moon hung above, portraying a glow upon the footpath leading towards the Jung household.

     They were a well known family, for their riches had gained them much popularity, and were rather fond of the odd frivolous party. Though, the parties had seemed to be more often, longer in duration, and louder as of late. This is why the night was young, because inside the mansion, nothing other than hollering and whooping and music could be heard.

     The sound only got worse the closer one got, and by the time it reached one’s ears, it was sure that they would be deaf by sunrise.

     Although, the brunette in her bedroom was not one to complain over such a ruckus.

     Jung Soojung stood in front of her mirror, making sure her ball gown was acceptable. She inspected the length, wondering if it was too whorish to wear something that cut above the knee. Then again, the year was 1924; women surely would be allowed to push some boundaries.

     And Soojung was definitely the type to push.

     Its not that she wanted to go against her father’s wishes, no, but when he offered to throw a masquerade ball, there was no doubt in her mind that she could get away with some things. After all, no one would know that it was her, no one would known she was second in line for heiress (even if she didn’t want that title), wealthy, and popular. Nobody would know who she was, until she took the mask off.

     Which is why she had no intention of removing it at all tonight.

     She smiled at her own reflection, content with the rules she was about to break, before turning on her heel. She picked the mask up from her nightstand, tying the ribbon around her head.

     Once she slinked out the door, she tried to make it seem as if she had just left the upstairs bathroom, not her own bedroom. She stumbled down the stairs, willing to play the part of the tipsy girl if it meant she could go down without getting noticed.

     She swatted off many a suitor on her way to the punch bowl, already regretting her decision of the dress’ length.

     Sighing, she realised this may not be as fun as she thought.

     She reached towards the ladle, ready to scoop some punch into a glass.

     But a glass was already in someone else’s hand, offering it to her. She groaned, preparing herself to hear another pick up line. Though, when she didn’t hear one, she became confused. Looking up, she became infatuated with the sight.

     He was no younger than her, it seemed. His jaw line was soft, his nose bulbous, and his lips pouty. His hair sat perfectly messy atop his head, and in that moment Soojung could think of doing nothing more than running her fingers through it.

     He offered her a smile, holding the drink in front of him.

     “Would you like one?”

     It was infectious, and she found herself smiling back easily. She nodded, taking a glass from him.

     “Thank you,” She muttered; wanting to continue frolicking with the others in attendance, she began to walk away.

     He didn’t put up a fight, just shrugging and watching her leave.

     It was odd, considering Soojung had to fight men off of her beforehand. She shook it off, thinking nothing of it as she went in search for her sister.

     She only found her sister’s friend, however, dancing with another to the band’s music; it seemed – dancing rather closely, too. But Soojung payed no mind to it, just walking onwards. She tapped her friend on the shoulder, making her turn around.

     “Can I help you?” Her friend asked, making Soojung quirk a brow.

     She then remembered the masks, realising her friend probably didn’t recognize her.

     “It's me, Miyoung,” She said, her friend’s eyes lighting up with acknowledgment. The two smiled at each other, Miyoung ceasing her dancing to talk with her. “I have a question for you.”

     “What is it?”

     “Is my gown too short?” She asked, signalling towards its hem.

     Miyoung’s eyebrows shot up, her jaw dropping dramatically. She covered with her hand, turning her friend’s body in the other direction.

     “It is far too short, Soojung-ah,” She chastised, slapping at the fabric. “What if your father sees?”

     “Father won’t know who I am,” Her fingers flourished around her mask, showing it off. “See?”

     “Still, it would be better not to have risked it.”

     “I will be fine, but do me a favour?”

     Her friend’s eyebrows turned upwards, ready to listen.

     “Dance with a man, will you? Sometimes you and Taeyeon just seem a little too close.”

     Miyoung laughed, “Oh, please, it is merely harmless.”

     Her nervous tone did not go unnoticed by Soojung.

     But, she decided to let it go, simply nodding and walking away. It was then that her stomach growled, alerting her that it had been quite some time since she had last eaten. She made her way towards the kitchen, her mind never straying from the thought of the mystery man from before.

     Normally, the kitchen would be filled with caterers, maids, and cooks. But tonight, only one was in attendance.

     “Are you following me?”

     Her head snapped in the direction of the voice, the huskiness setting off something inside her.

     There was no doubt whatsoever about mystery man’s attractiveness; he was, if anything, what most would call the whole package.

     “I’d hardly call it following, seeing as this is my house.”

     Once his eyebrows shot up, Soojung covered . She should not have let that slip, now there was no point in her mask.

     “Ah, so, you’re a Jung.”

     She nodded.

     “Which sister are you?”

     A smile tugged at Soojung’s mouth, “Guess.”

     He got up from the seat, strutting confidently towards her. He circled her once, his vanilla aroma surrounding her within seconds. He rubbed his chin, trying to make an assessment.

     “What’s my prize if I guess right?” He asked, coming to face her.

     “Um,” Soojung hadn’t thought that far ahead, only now realising how intimate the game was already getting. “A dance.”

     “A dance?” His voice was gravelly, secrets of what he really wanted hidden within his tone. “Seems fair enough, but we have to do whatever genre I prefer.”

     “Fine by me.”

     He looked her up and down, and Soojung couldn’t help but notice the way he his lips. His eyes positively devoured her, the plain chocolate irises churning into the same colour of the brandy he swirled in his hand.

     “Don’t panic,” He said before leaning forward. For a fleeting moment, Soojung thought he would have kissed her, and felt somewhat disappointed when he didn’t. She watched him watch her, watched his gaze map out every inch of her face, watched him smile as he finished. He pulled away from her, and both knew he had already won. “You’re Soojung.”

     “How do you know for certain?”

     His hand reached out, cupping her face. She leant into it effortlessly, his fingertips running along her cheek, thumb across her lips.

     “Easy,” He breathed out. His hand grasped hers, twining their fingers together as he began to walk. She noticed that he was taking her to the nearest balcony, her mind already buzzing with predictions. When they came to a stop, he drew the curtains over the windows, making it impossible for anyone to see them. He looked down at her with sincerity, a soft smile on his pouty lips. “You’re the far more beautiful sister.”

     “I’m serious, how did you know it was me?”

     He laughed, “Yeah, I didn’t think that line would work.” He shuffled his feet on the ground, biting his lower lip. “In complete honesty, I knew you were Soojung because I passed your sister on the way to the kitchen.”

     “Did she say anything to you?”

     “She told me to wait in the kitchen, and that you would eventually find me again.” He finished, shrugging.

     “Who said I was looking for you?”

     He took a step forward, “She did.”

     Soojung took a step back, her hands reaching for the railing. “And what makes you think she’s right?”

     One step forward. “The fact that you’re here now.”

     One step back. “Then maybe I should leave.”

     He took one last step, making Soojung’s back hit the railing. There was absolutely no escape, her body trapped by his arms either side of her.

     He leant down, his hot breath crashing against her ear as he spoke.

     “We both know you don’t want to do that.”

     She melted upon hearing his voice, not even noticing she was being whisked away by his hands. She only realised when her face was centimetres from his, his burning stare enrapturing her, that the two of them were dancing.

     He held her at arm’s length, his dancing skills impeccable.

     “Odd, I thought you would’ve chosen something more . . .” She trailed off, unable to pick the right word.

     “Risqué?”

     Soojung nodded, making him laugh.

     “Don’t worry; I’m not one of those types.” He said, spinning her beneath his leading arm. She felt herself swoon as she span, and when they resumed waltzing, she knew what she wanted from the unknown man. “I much prefer earning my women through sophistication.”

     “Such as?”

     “Such as being chivalrous, being kind, complimenting her – only if she deserves it, though – and most importantly, through being modest.”

     “Ah, I see.” She nearly tripped, her head spinning. “But it begs the question, if you earn your women this way, how do you earn their kiss?”

     He smirked, his hand resting at the small of her back. He dipped her, her body arcing easily into the movement. His remaining hand came to a stop at the nape of her neck, gently bringing her upwards.

     Once she was back upright, she noticed they were much closer than before. The air between them was positively electrifying, every atom charged.

     “Like that.” He said, clearly proud of the flushed state he had put Soojung in. “But it begs the question, have I earned your kiss?”

     Soojung smiled sheepishly, her arms coiling around his neck. She pulled him closer, until they were only an exhale apart. He cautiously allowed his hands to rest on her waist, not wanting to offend her.

     Chivalrous, indeed, she thought.

     His breath ghosted over her lips, making her unable to stand it any longer.

     With hands diving into his hair, she brought him down towards her.

     Their lips met, soft at first, trying to grasp the sensations running through them. Soojung’s body was set ablaze, the flames at her skin until it felt like she was ready to sear to ash. She pulled him even closer, tilting her head for better access.

     His arms wrapped around her completely, lifting her off the floor as his tongue slid across the seam of her lips.

     Her legs draped around his waist with ease, allowing her tongue to meet his in a new dance. He sat her upon the balcony’s railing, but Soojung had no fear in her of falling, not when his arms were so secure and tight to the point that it made it even harder to breathe, but made her feel beautiful at the same time, like he never wanted to let go.

     They broke apart, the need for air getting the better of them.

     One of his hands left her back, trailing up her skin as he brushed some loose hair from her eyes. She looked down shyly, a blush tinting her cheeks.

     “Who are you?” She blurted out, unable to hold the question any longer.

     He smiled at her, sliding her off the railing. Both their heads turned towards the window, hoping no one moved the curtains aside. But when she saw no light coming from inside, Soojung realised the party was now over.

     How long had she been kissing him?

     It only felt like seconds, but for all she knew, it could have been an hour, a day; hell, in her mind it could’ve been a month and she would not have known the difference.

     He looked back towards her, the same gleam in his eyes.

     “That, my princess, you’ll have to guess.”

     And with that, he was out of her sight. She assumed he had already left by the time she realised he had actually gone.

     She walked back inside, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. Her usual routine went as planned: change into nightwear, brush teeth, read, go to sleep.

     But the last one never happened, for her mind was still stewing upon the subject of who the mystery man really was.

A/N: Ugh, Kryber will forever be my weakness