Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.
Prompt: The stepsisters destroy Cinderella's mother's dress, but the mice mended her father's suit as well. So Cinderella wears the suit to the ball instead (possibly going by horse instead of the carriage). Don't mind if it's an AU with no fairy godmother, don't care whether it's a Prince or Princess Charming. Would looooove a genderqueer Cinderella.

chapter eight: perceptions did not seem nearly as important

Ellis jerked away in surprise when their lips first pressed firmly together and Nolana felt her heart beat hard in fear that she was being rebuffed for being so very forward. Almost without meaning to her finger at his neck, curled tightly in his hair and she felt his hand tense where it had been sitting lightly upon her waist.

But then - then after a long moment of wide eyes simply staring at each other - he, he leaned down and kissed her back.

And, oh. Oh.

He was gentle. So very, gentle it made her breathless. Made her feel that he saw her as something of great worth (something to be savored) as this - as simply Nolana.

And his hands, his strong hands. One slowly moved from her waist to the center of her back, sliding up her spine with infinite care that made her shiver (made her wish for skin upon skin). The other traced her shoulder blade before moving higher and when he reached where the fabric of her dress ended in the back, and his callused fingers touched the skin there, Nolana could not help but gasp at the feeling.

Could not help but press even tighter forward, as she broke away from the kiss to breathe (to pant, honestly). And it was with her body so very close in that moment that she realized that the one she was against was different than they appeared. Clothing and cut hair had masked such things, but the feel of curves, similar to her own were apparent when so tightly together.

"You're –," she started, still catching her breath, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, but not yet pulling away.

"Yes," was her answer, said very lowly, even before she could finish; and Ellis would not look her in the eyes, held their body tense, waiting for reaction. And although he – she – oh dear, what was she to call the lovely creature pressed against her when her eyes told her one thing and her body another?

She pressed back upon an initial reaction of anger that tried to accompany the confusion, or such. There was no reason for it, no reason to take offense to things simply because of someone elses sense of propriety. After all, no wrongs had been done, there had been no betrayal, this person before had not taken anything from her. In fact, the only thing even asked of her had been, rather innocently, a dance.

It had been Nolana who pulled them to more secluded areas, Nolana who leaned into their arm while she led the tour, Nolana who made their dance closer, who first kissed.

(Nolana who still held secrets just as large and could certainly not throw stones.)

And oh – it was truly hard to make sense of this – hard to make herself decide if she should care that the person before her was a man or woman when this all felt so good. She had heard stories of love at first sight but as Princess Charming grew, she thought they must be just that – stories. How was it that over one night of talking she felt so close, that over one dance she was falling so fast and hard, with one kiss she simply wanted a multitude more?

But she supposed her entire lack of ability to articulate herself wasn't an utter deterrent and when she didn't simply run away at the revelation, Ellis finally looked at her (blue eyes peering hopefully through golden lashes - and oh, this is not good. Because that expression makes her heart squeeze painfully. She is afraid she would do anything asked if accompanied by that look) at least some of her feelings must have been apparent. In any case the bowstring tenseness in the form against her finally relaxed a bit, her (his?) head even falling forward against her shoulder.

"Do you think you can keep my secret, my Lady Nolana?" her lovely dance partner breathed against her neck, making her shiver.

And she attempted to be solemn about it but her body betrayed her. "Oh, yes," came out more as a happy sigh and Nolana felt a blush form brightly upon her cheeks. She did not like to be thought of as the swooning sort.

But then she felt the lips smile against her skin and perceptions did not seem nearly as important.