Friday, September 20, 2013

Oh she was but, a fool.

Blogtember Day 12Creative writing day: write a (very short) fictional story that starts with this sentence: "To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century."



To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century. We were all dressed to the nines; clad in sexy, uber classy dresses, high heels, hair set and red lips. My to-do list for tonight was simple: 

1. Drink all the champagne 
2. Kiss some hot guys, 
3. Have some fun 
4. Try not to make eye contact with Him. 

There were 30 other people in the clique to socialise with, and hundreds others when we head to the party venue, so that seemed like a pretty easy task.

Great. Of all people to be stuck in a taxi with, WHY HIM? I swear, He had gone down to the lobby first while I herded all the semi-drunken sheep from the hotel suite to get their asses downstairs. Shouldn't He have packed them up nicely into the cabs and gone off with them? Why did He have to hover around like a fly waiting to be smacked till I had no choice but to share space with him? Thank God the other three companions were awesome.. no, four. We managed to seduce the cab driver to squeeze in an extra person. Do not ask.

The whole night had been brilliant so far. I spent the past hour drinking 'classy wine' as Joseph called it, had - for once- appropriate conversations with friends whose alcohol levels are way above limits and did a little scoping around the room, enjoying the view of delicious looking men in suits. Many people said how good I looked that night; men of different nationalities have come up to me and asked for a dance. I did all that, and maybe rewarded some of them with a little kiss or two, but deep in my heart I wished that He was the one who told me I look pretty; His was the cheek and/or lips I kissed and He was the man who had asked me for a dance.

Unfortunately, He hadn't said a word to me that night, not that I expected any from Him. But what I've noticed from time to time were the glances he was giving me. Some were subtle and some, like the last one I caught, was unabashed. Jessica dragged me towards the bar for more drinks. I hesitated, because in order to get to where she wanted to go, we'd have to walk by Him. The tension in the space between us mounted as I drew closer to Him.

"You look beautiful tonight."

I froze, not knowing what to do next. Jess had skipped ahead to score some free drinks and I just... didn't know if I should believe what I just heard. It couldn't be anyone else. I know the voice of Mick Lawner anywhere. 

Without warning, a soft touch ran down the slit of my dress where it ended at the middle of spine. I felt him putting his face on my shoulder, right next to my ear. He was so close, I could literally hear him breathing. This was the most contact we had, ever, and we were friends, or whatever the hell we were for a very long time. I melted at his touch, against my better judgment. He just knew what ticked me. He knew, me. 

He held his face there for what seemed to be the longest five seconds of my life, before turning in to give me a kiss. I turned towards him and surrendered to what was my wildest dreams come true.

"I can't take my eyes off you, Mia."

I was a huge fool.

**

I know this was supposed to be a very short story, but honestly this is the shortest I've written in a long, long time. Accomplishment of the year: I started and FINISHED a damn story. Woohoo!

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