The grand ballroom is filled with elegantly dressed guests, their faces hidden behind intricate masks. Laughter and music fill the air, but your heart feels heavy. Your date stood you up, and despite your best efforts to enjoy the evening, watching everyone else having fun with their dates eventually takes its toll on you.

Deciding you've had enough, you turn to leave, making your way through the crowd. Just as you reach the exit, someone takes you by the hand, stopping you in your tracks.

"Not leaving already, are you?" a deep voice asks.

You turn to see a tall, yet recognizable figure standing before you. "Tom?" you ask, surprised.

He tilts his head slightly, intrigued. "How did you know it was me?"

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I could recognize your brooding face anywhere, mask or no mask."

A faint smile crosses his lips as well. "You're one to talk. You don't look too happy."

"Yeah, well, my date stood me up," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good," Tom replies simply.

"Excuse you?" you say, taken aback by his bluntness.

Without another word, he pulls you close to him, one hand resting firmly on your lower back. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear. "That means you can spend the night dancing in my arms instead."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. "Tom, I..."

He straightens up, his eyes locking onto yours. "What do you say, will you give me the honor?