Amelia realized too late that her robotic answer had caused a schism between her and Elijah, who now seemed to be distracted from making conversation with her. As the silence fell between them, Amelia understood how heavily upon Elijah she relied to keep the conversation going. She was dreadful at small talk, and really only preferred asking questions, not answering them. Elijah was the one who carried her along, nearly always speaking enough for both of them, letting her slide by with non-verbal responses and brief answers.
Nashach seemed to be distracting Elijah – she could just barely hear the hissing over the din of conversation and the rumba beat now pumping toward the dance floor – but she wasn’t the only one. Elijah’s eyes were beginning to wander about the room, as was only natural when conversation died out.
Amelia, noticing that unless they were both looking at each other, she was technically just staring, redirected her gaze from Elijah to some of the others who had come down to the ball. On the other side of the hall, Amelia could see Christabelle with a boy she did not recognize. The veela champion looked effortlessly radiant in her gown, which Amelia might have anticipated. Another girl from her house, Gin, was sitting near the doorway, emanating the personal style and attitude Amelia had recognized upon their first meeting. Amelia also recognized most of the other students from observing them, but she doubted many of them would know much more about her than her name and the reputation which proceeded her: Ice Queen.
When Elijah offered to go fetch refreshments, Amelia was not altogether surprised. It was an excuse she often used to get out of awkward situations, which was what this had undoubtedly become since she shoved a wall between herself and the boy who had been working so hard to get past her defenses. She could almost hear her mother’s verbal lashing now, a result of her behaviour thus far: ”What are you doing? Have I taught you nothing?”
Knowing she had screwed up pretty badly, Amelia pressed her fingers to her forehead and temples, resting them there only for a moment before realizing that her makeup was likely to smear if she did. It was unnatural for her to be wearing much makeup at all – it simply wasn’t practical for a girl of near-invisibility – but tonight she had to be conscious of that extra layer she wore. If only she could paint on a new personality, this whole situation might have gone more smoothly.
Feeling as though this self-defeating mindset was getting her nowhere, Amelia scanned the room to see where Elijah had gotten to. Her first sweep of the food and drink table came up empty, but after a quick scan of the room she found her target. Elijah stood with his hand on the back of a blond girl in a crisp white ball gown, though his attention seemed to be separated between her and another, raven-haired girl in an equally poofy gown. Their exchange was brief, ending with a kiss on the cheek for both girls.
At the sight of the kisses, Amelia felt an unfamiliar emotion bubbling within her. Although her immediate instinct was to repress the emotion as she did all others, she wanted to identify it first, so she let it momentarily rise to the surface. Jealousy? But Amelia did get jealous, or at least she thought she didn’t. Not in these situations. She was only physically attracted to Elijah, right?
But if that was the case, why did she squirm at the sight of his attention on other girls?
Hating the direction this thought process was going, Amelia squashed the emotion, pushing it to the recesses of her mind where she hoped it would remain dormant. This was the problem with emotions: if you let the good emotions rise to the surface, what is to stop the bad from doing the same? As much as she wanted the happiness, joy, and love that Elijah promised she was capable of, she did not want the hurt, sadness, or jealousy that were equally possible.
When Elijah returned, he was carrying two goblets, one of which he placed in front of her. After thanking Elijah, she took a sip of the punch, a tart liquid she had always favored over the more sweet pumpkin juice. As she lowered her glass, Amelia turned to make a comment to Elijah, but when she did, she realized that his attention was still otherwise averted. Following his gaze, she could see the reason.
You’re going to have to do better than sit her silently, her subconscious probed as her jealousy threatened to rise again. She hated the emotion and what it might mean for her other feelings on the topic of Elijah, and worked to repress it before speaking again, hoping to regain the interest of her escort.
“Thank you for the punch,” Amelia began, immediately wanting to slap her own forehead after the words left her lips. You already said that… “Those girls you were talking to,” she continued, trying to keep her voice plaintive and free of any hint of the envious feelings she was experiencing. She knew the question she was about to ask would likely sound territorial or probing, so she was careful to phrase it in the least threatening way possible, “Are they in your house or classes? You seemed to get on with them quite well.”
by 
