The One That Got Away

Progression

A week passed, each night with a delightful banquet and each day Tom grew more infatuated with Freya. She could do things for him. She could make him known, give him wealth. Not to mention, she was his intellectual equal.

 He hated her little sister. The one year old never failed to steal Freya's mornings away from him.

He enjoyed talking to Freya and hated when she spoke to anyone else.It was yet another pureBlood function that he was attending.Tom's blood had begun boiling at the sight of her speaking with Evan Rosier. Evann had Freya backed up against the wall.

"I'm sorry, Evan but I don't want to marry you." She Said. Tom could not help but smirk at her words from where he was standing.

"Come on Freya. You know me, I'd always be loyal. We could grow to love each other." Said Evan. Tom rolled his eyes, Rosier had always been easily persuaded by women.

"Why me then?" She Asked, genuinely curious.

"Your bronze hair, porcelain skin, freckles so soft that you need to be really close to see, your rose petal lips." He said.

"Are you proposing or just taking inventory?" She Asked.

"You're dazzling wit." Said Rosier, chuckling slightly. It was a fake laugh, that Tom knew well.

"And why would I want you?" She Asked.

"Because I'm mad for you." He Said. "I would not take your fathers company away from you, and if you decide to marry me, you'd never have to go through this again." 

"I don't know." She said softly.

"Well my other option is my cousin, your answer will be highly anticipated." He said, as he kissed her hand and left her to her thoughts.

"What did he want?" Asked Tom.

"Well, he wants me to accept his proposal." She Said.

"But you won't." Said Tom.

"I don't know, not yet anyway." She Said. "I have known Evan for a while, he is not the worst, but between you and me, he is not really my type."

Tom nodded and left her with Ana. Making his way to make conversation with Mr Taschereau.
It had been an hour before Tom realized that she had slipped out. Tom's eyebrows knitted together with confusion. He scanned the room one last time, before concluding that she was gone. 

Tom left the dining hall and left in search of Freya. He walked until he heard music. It was not the stuffy string quartet violin that was enchanted to play at the pure blood gatherings. It was two fiddles, playing an Irish jig. 

He walked until he was in the frame of the door but invisible to those inside. He quickly spotted Freya's violet satin dress and her shoes discarded on the floor. She was playing one of the fiddles in her conservative underdress and the red headed waitress played the other. Freya was clearly struggling to keep up with her partner as the others danced around them.

 It seemed the help was having a little get together of their own. Suddenly a dance had begun with Freya and the red head in the centre. The way they'd look at each other, made Tom slightly unsettled.

Then the red head pulled her closer, and whispered something in her ear. Freya giggles and nodded. Tom muttered a quick dissolumo on himself as the two tipsy girls passed. They ran down to an abandoned part of the corridor, Tom followed, curious.

Then Freya pulled the red head in close and kissed her. Tom felt enraged when the red head deepened the kiss and pushed Freya up against a wall. The red head began kissing her neck. Unable to stop himself, he, from around the corner made sounds with his feet to tell them someone was coming. The girls quickly touched up that makeup and went separate ways, the red head went towards him.