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The words were soft, coming from behind a black mask lined in a deep red velvet. A hand was extended, gloved, the cloth matching the mask.
Hux looked up, green eyes meeting brown. The mysterious man’s lips curled into a smile as he waited.
“Excuse me?” Hux finally managed to choke out, unsure that he’d heard this man correctly, this man whose opulence was near overwhelming. His dark grey suit was obviously expensive with its red lining. Several gold chains were looped around his neck, beads adorning most of them. His large ears were pierced several times over with a variety of drops and hoops. Though much of his face was hidden, he could still see a gem twinkling at his nostril and red paint at his lips.
“I said, dance with me.” There was no wait for an answer, Hux’s hands being taken in the man’s, being dwarfed by them as he led him to the floor, where couples swirled and turn with a grace he never felt he could attain. He felt vastly underdressed, even before being confronted by this large man. Hux’s black suit was of a plain material, and he had no special ornamentation upon his dark green mask.
“Why?” Hux’s voice was soft as they stopped, the stranger turning him so they faced another, each of them arranging their hands in proper order, both correct in their assumption of preferred dancing roles.
The man only grinned as Hux began to lead their dance, following him as they twirled. Perhaps he hadn’t the money for proper attire, but his mother would be scandalized if he hadn’t the manners of proper society, including knowing how to dance.
After the pause between them, the man’s hand drifted from his shoulder to run through his short red hair. “Your hair intrigued me.”
“My hair?” He attempted to hide the shiver that ran through him at the feeling of someone’s hand in his hair with the incredulous tone of his voice. He wasn’t sure he was successful, but still was confused by the answer. Granted, he knew his coloring was considered rare, especially on Core worlds such as Chandrila, but that didn’t necessitate such a fascination of it.
“I don’t see such a color often, not even in the Mid-Rim.”
Hux looked at the man in surprise as they moved along the dancefloor. “You’re from Mid-Rim?”
The stranger looked at him in both amusement and surprise. Hux supposed he shouldn’t be astounded by it. This, after all, was a gala thrown for some prince of that region; it didn’t seem too odd that there would be another from the area.
“Indeed, I am,” was his casual reply, moving his hand from Hux’s hair finally. He tried not to feel the loss of the warmth at the side of his face. This man was nothing to him, no matter how attractive he may seem, despite the mask that covered his eyes. “Where are you from?”
Hux wanted to lie, should lie, in fact. And yet, he found himself answering, “Arkanis.”
Another look of astonishment from the stranger. “You’ve come so far.” His lips grew into a lazy grin. “And just for me. I’m touched.”
“What?” No, it couldn’t be...there was no way…
The grin twisted into a smirk, a smirk that looked much too nice on those painted lips of his. “The Prince of Naboo gives you his thanks.” The man--Ben Amidala, his mind finally supplied--backed up and gave a shallow bow, pressing his lips against the back of one of Hux’s hands, then departed, leaving Hux to stare after him, after the man that, despite their short time together, had somehow utterly enchanted him.