#GuyBellinfield

[aoibhs]

Back To Traditions

Chapter One

Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from The Riot Club/Posh, and all OCs were beautifully crafted by @club-riot

The hotel was grand and glamorous, as expected. And the ten girls were ushered into a room that was usually reserved for weddings. It was massive. But it would need to be if twenty people were to sit, eat and drink around one table. One table. What a long narrow table it was. But, it was a rather large room, so the quantity didn't matter at all. When the girls walked in, one by one, they saw the boys already standing around the table, waiting. James was at the very end, the furthest away. Sunniva would be sitting on the opposite side of the table. Once the presidents were seated, the rest of the club were in the order of how long they had been members. Elizabeth already knew that she would be sitting beside James with Josephine on the other side. At the very end, on either side of Sunniva, was Imogen and Miles. "Evening gentlemen," Sunniva smiled, clearing her throat a little. "Ladies," Ed winked before James even got to say anything. Of course, that got them all laughing. Even Ed, but he was more laughing at how perfectly suave he was. "Ladies and Gentlemen," James grinned as he looked down the table, "Tonight we make history," "Tonight we sit as one," Sunniva continued, "The Socialite ladies and the Riot boys of Oxford will drink and eat as one singular company for the first time in fifty years," "We promise not to rape any of you," Ed nodded, "Well, I do. I can't speak for any of them," "Thank you, Ed," James sighed slightly, "Now I hope you will raise your glasses with me to toast what will be a monumental evening," They all picked their champagne flutes up and held them in the air. "Here's to us," Sunniva smirked. The girls went to down their drinks but just as the glass touched their lips, the boys decided to yell Huzzah enthusiastically, nearly causing Imogen to drop her glass. Once all their glasses had been thoroughly emptied, Sunniva cleared her throat once again, indicating that the speech section of the evening had not finished yet. "Before we receive our starters, myself and James have decided to revive an old tradition of these dinners," There was a mischievous smirk creeping up on her face, which automatically made Elizabeth paranoid. What were they up to? "Every proper lady and gent should know the basics of ballroom dancing," James stepped away from the table and walked into the empty floor space beside them. "We are a ballroom dancing club after all," Sunniva reminded them of the cover story as they laughed and nudged Ed for his ingenious idea. "We have assigned a partner for everyone, and we all have to do it because we said so," James said, a little smugly. Elizabeth wondered what he was feeling smug about. Maybe it was because he was president of The Riot Club and was very wealthy. That would be a good enough reason to feel smug. "Okay, Hugo and Victoria, Imogen and Toby, Poppy and Alistair," Sunniva paced around the table, beginning to match them all off. "Will you calm down?" Dimitri muttered to Guy. "I'm nothing but calm," Guy Bellingfield's voice was high pitched and heard through clenched teeth. There was never a more obvious lie in the history of the earth. Ever. Dimitri just shook his head. "Dimitri, you're with Louisa," James told him as he walked over, "Balf, you are with Meredith over there," He pointed George in the direction of the blonde. "What about me?" Guy asked him hopefully. His facial expression gave everything away and it made Dimitri want to burst out laughing. "Oh, Bellingfield! Yes, you are with Sunniva," James pointed over to her and walked off. "...What?" "Haha," Dimitri didn't bother masking his amusement. Guy had already made enough Greek jokes to give him the privilege of making fun of his little admiration for Elizabeth for the rest of his days. "Ah, Lizzy. You're with me," James said, approaching her and taking her hand while he was at it, leading her into the space of the room. "...What?" "Well well well," Honora turned to see Harry's content smirk coming towards her, "Looks like we're partners," "Looks like it," She shrugged, pretending not to care. Oh, all she could think of was how much she wanted a drink at that time. But of course, she remembered what happened on the last occasion she got drunk in the presence of Harry Villiers. The alcohol would always rejog those memories instead of erasing them. But oh well, she lived for the idea of a good cocktail. "You okay?" James waved his hand in front of Elizabeth's distracted face. "Umm, yeah. Sorry," She bit her lip, looking back at him. The speakers came on, crackling to live as some music began to play. "We couldn't get ahold of any orchestral musicians at such short notice," James looked down apologetically as he took her hand in his. "It's fine," She chuckled a little, placing her other hand on his shoulder. She noticed that all the other pairs were getting into waltz position just as she felt James' other hand perch itself on her waist. She jumped at the contact. It wasn't even sudden. So by the time she looked back at him, he was laughing. "What's he laughing at?" Guy said, looking over Sunniva's shoulder at them. "Stop sulking, Bellingfield," She scolded him. The last three beats passed and everyone commenced the dancing. Four seconds later and Elizabeth felt dizzy. She wasn't used to dancing like that. With other people. With a partner. "Nothing like a good old Russian waltz," George smiled once they had finished. "Indeed," Harry smirked back at him, his hand knowingly traveling up and down Honora's hips. That is until she finally snapped out of whatever trance she was in and swatted his hand away. "I would've assumed it was a tradition for the two presidents to be partners," Louisa said as they all returned to their seats, their food beginning to arrive. "It was," Hugo answered, clearly stifling his laughter as much as he could. "Then why...?" Elizabeth creased her eyebrows, confused. "What's wrong, Shaw?" Harry looked at her, grinning, "Scared he'll walk someone else home?" "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself places, thank you, Harry," Elizabeth sighed, huffing slightly. It was starting to feel like that was Harry's favourite topic of conversation.

Chapter Ten