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The white rose looked beautiful on Monica.
It added a simple charm to the girl, its soft white petals a gentle highlight on the green of her dress. It was a perfectly suitable offering from the gentlemanly son of a Marquess.
And yet looking at it made Lana feel like she had lost something precious.
She knew that she should be happy for her friend. Of all the boys who could've shown interest in her, Monica's senior in the student council was one of the better options. She always straightened up with pride when Cyril called out Treasurer Norton! across the halls. Monica deserved to have someone who could sweep her away from her miserable life with Count Kerbeck.
Lana knew all this—but her heart still hurt.
She was careful not to let her strange feelings show as her hands gently ran through Monica’s hair. The other girl leaned into her touch, her eyes closed.
She'd seemed so exhausted after the long festival that Lana was surprised she'd wanted to go to the ball. But Monica had shown up at her door mere minutes ago, the ball only an hour away, asking shyly if Lana could do her makeup.
She supposed that having a dance partner made it worth looking forward to. The thought was oddly bitter.
"The dress really is quite cute on you," Lana blurted out, trying to force away these strange feelings. Surely if she just chattered away about clothing, then the time would pass quicker, Monica nodding along as usual, before Lana sent her out looking more lovely than ever. "I'm very happy with my father's alterations. Did you see the ribbon I'll be braiding into your hair?"
"N-Not yet…" Monica mumbled. Her hands absently twisted over each other. "But… Everything you pick is cute, Lana… So I'm sure I'll like it."
The words brought a smile to her face. Yes, she really was the best at picking out cute things for Monica, wasn't she? That was her job, as her best friend. Monica was quite hopeless in the world of fashion, after all, so Lana would take care of her as only she could.
She would ensure that Monica's makeup highlighted her lovely brown eyes, that her hair was braided into the most recent trend, that her dress was expertly fit to flare out in a way that caught the eye—all so that Lana could send her off to dance with the boy who'd given her a rose ornament.
Her smile was beginning to feel more like a grimace.
"You definitely will," she forced herself to say. As distracted as her mind was becoming, Lana's hands stayed steady, weaving Monica's hair into a braid. She couldn't let her friend down with a sloppy hairstyle.
…The style was, genuinely, in fashion—but Lana couldn't deny the possessive, prideful feeling she got at the sight of the flower she'd braided Monica's hair into.
She's wearing my flower, too, she thought, darkly satisfied.
And then she quickly shook her head, out of Monica's sight, because what was wrong with her?
"H-Here!" Lana said in a rush, guiding Monica over to the mirror on her desk. Her shoulders were warm, even through Lana's gloves.
…Why was she thinking about that.
"It's so pretty…!" Monica said, awed. Her hand reached up to reverently stroke the braid, turning her head side to side to see the details. Lana felt like she could see the calculations running through her eyes as she memorized all the angles and vertices and whatever else Monica was always interested in, and the thought finally turned her smile genuine.
Monica's eyes darted to hers in the mirror, then up to Lana's hair, which was braided with its own flower. When she noticed, a small pink blush rose to her cheeks.
"W-We match…" Monica mumbled, her voice shy. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Lana in the mirror. If she turned that doe-eyed, adorable stare on Cyril Ashley, then she would have him wrapped around her finger in an instant.
"Yup! It's cute, right?" Lana said loudly, vainly trying to ignore the fact that, very soon, the whole school would be able to see Monica looking like this.
"…Yes…" Monica answered. Her cheeks looked a little pinker as she glanced at Lana through her eyelashes.
"You look… very cute, Lana…"
The words made her heart race. She felt her own blush rising quickly to her cheeks, and she let out a nervous giggle—but she couldn't stop the giddy smile that crossed her lips.
"W-Well, of course!" she answered, throwing her head back. If she just acted like she normally did, then maybe she could feel like she normally did. "It wouldn't do for either of us to show up as anything but cute! I'm sure Ashley-sama will be honored to—to dance with you!"
The last sentence felt like it was dragged out of her chest. And yet for some reason, at the words, Monica's expression turned startled.
"Huh?" she asked, twisting around to look at Lana directly. Her voice was confused. "Why would Cyril-sama be, um… d-dancing with me…?"
Lana blinked, feeling equally confused. The rose was quite clearly one of the favors offered by boys for the ball, and the white flower with its blue ribbon couldn't possibly belong to anyone else.
"He gave you the rose, didn't he?" she asked, pointing at it. Monica looked down at it with a furrow on her brow.
"Yes…" Monica answered slowly, tone puzzled, "but… this is just a good-luck charm, so that I don't embarrass myself…"
The first thought Lana had was That was smart of him. Evidently, Monica was truly unaware of the custom, and so framing it as a gift to help her do better was a clever way to get her to accept it.
The second thought Lana had was Does she even want to dance with him? This thought, along with the odd feeling of hope, was quickly squashed down for her to ignore.
"Giving a rose like that is a popular custom for the ball," Lana explained. She picked up one of her combs, fiddling with it, before placing it back down. She wasn't sure of the expression Monica was making, and wasn't sure she wanted to see it. "Boys give it to girls to ask them for their first dance, so I assumed…"
Monica made a high-pitched, strangled noise.
"D-D-Dance…" she stuttered, sounding horrified. Lana glanced at her, worried that the other girl was going to faint, but Monica was just staring off to the side with empty looking eyes, her mouth opening and closing.
"I c-can't dance, Lana," she managed to croak. Her hands flew up like she wanted to bury her face into them, but they instead stopped in a hover right in front of her cheeks. Was she trying not to ruin her makeup?
"I've barely practiced," Monica continued, sounding panicked. "C-Cyril-sama is a good lead, but I'm still so clumsy! I can never remember the steps…"
Lana's mouth moved before her brain did.
"We can practice right now."
Monica stared at her, as surprised as Lana was at her words.
She fidgeted, feeling herself blush again, before she began trying to explain herself.
"I've never been lead in a dance," she said, feeling tongue-tied, "but I've been led a bunch of times, so I have a good idea of the steps… A little bit of practice is better than none, right?"
Monica gaped at her. For some reason, her cheeks were a bright red.
"Y-Y-You want to—um—l-lead me?" Monica squeaked. Lana felt her blush deepen, because the answer was a resounding yes but she couldn't quite say why.
"J-Just to help you feel a bit more confident!" she said quickly. Her palms felt sweaty. She shifted on her feet, head turning away from the other girl, but she kept looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "If you don't want to—"
"I do!"
The interjection was quick, and—for Monica—quite loud. Lana's head immediately turned back to look at her in shock. Monica looked even more red than before, biting her lip, before she continued in a softer tone, "I, um… I do want to d-dance with you, Lana…"
The words filled her with an indescribable joy. Lana felt her face break into a beaming smile, and at the sight of Monica's own face smiling back, it just grew even wider.
"T-Then here…"
Lana took a step closer to her. She could feel her heart racing, the sound rushing through her ears. There wasn't much of a size difference between the two, so that should make leading her easier.
Except as she got even closer, standing right in front of Monica and having her look up with such an eager expression on her face, Lana felt like this would actually be impossible.
"I-I'll place my hand on your back, okay?" she told her, voice stuttering. Monica just let out a nod, her eyes wide, and Lana swallowed.
Gently, her hand wrapped around Monica until it came to rest lightly against her back. She felt Monica shuffle a tiny bit closer to her. They were nearly pressed together. This close, she could see the small flecks of green in her eyes.
Lana had done too good of a job with her makeup. She was distracted by how beautiful Monica looked.
"…Now take my other hand," she said, voice hushed. Monica's hand lifted up as she placed it into her grip. Lana's hold on her tightened.
She didn't want to let her go, not when it meant Monica would be leaving to dance with someone else. But right now, it was just the two of them. Lana would force herself to be content with that.
There was nothing to signal their start, so Lana just began moving, both her and Monica shuffling awkwardly. She had to mentally reverse every step, trying to place herself into the mentality of a man. As Monica followed her movements, however—as clumsy as they were—it got easier.
"It's like you're mirroring me," Lana said quietly, turning them in a slow circle. "See how my foot goes back here, and yours goes forward?"
"Mhm," Monica mumbled. Her eyes weren't looking at their feet at all. Her gaze was locked entirely on Lana's face.
She didn't know why it embarrassed her so. It was just a dance with her best friend.
They swept around the edges of the room, Lana doing her best to mentally keep count with imaginary music. It was hard to focus on anything besides the girl in her arms. Monica just kept looking at her.
After another turn, Monica stumbled slightly. Lana clutched her tight to her chest, not wanting her to fall, and let out a worried, "Are you all right?"
"I'm f-fine," she mumbled. Her hand tightened around Lana's, the other holding onto her arm.
Monica blinked up at her, mouth parted ever so slightly, and Lana had the absurd thought that if she had been a boy, now would be the perfect time to kiss her.
The quiet was broken by the sound of a distant, ringing chime. It was the one used to signal special events; the ball had started.
Lana forced herself to let go, stepping back from Monica and the strange feelings she was having. For a moment, Monica's hands rested in the air, where they'd been wrapped around Lana, before they slowly lowered back down to her sides.
"Did that, um… help?" Lana asked uncertainly, not quite meeting her eyes. Monica looked at her for a long, long moment.
"…Yes," she said quietly. Her hand drifted up to gently run along the flower braided in her hair. "I really…"
Her voice trailed off. Lana wished she knew what she had been about to say.
"…It helped," Monica finally said. She shifted back and forth on her feet, looking once more like the shy girl that Lana had taken under her wing, not the one that made her heart race with clumsy steps and beautiful eyes.
"Should we… head to the ball?" Monica asked, her hands twisting together.
If Lana were acting normally, then she would grab one of those hands in her own, tugging her along as she guided them both forward. But the thought of holding her hand again, when Monica would so soon be dancing with someone else, made something ache deep in Lana's chest, and so she didn't.
"Of course," she said instead, forcing a smile onto her face. "It's your first one; we can't miss it. I'm sure you'll have so much fun!"
"Right…" Monica mumbled.
Her eyes watched Lana with an unreadable expression on her face, but Lana had already turned to leave, and did not see it.