Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Dancing in The Pale Moonlight - 1. The dreamy dancing
‘Dance with me?’
To deny him was not even an option. My entire being responded to his very existence. I would know when he entered a room, I could almost feel his want: whether or not he wanted me to gravitate towards him or slink out of the very establishment he graced with his presence.
Neil was a perfect gentleman; he never would even so much as lift an eyebrow if someone offended him. He simply didn't care about anyone else; no one but me! They were not his, not like I was.
‘How long has this one lasted?’
‘Three years!’ Do these people even know about the art of whispering?
‘No freaking way! Are they for real?’ Jealous, much?
‘Who knows Neil well enough to know that?’
They weren’t even whispers anymore. They were full-fledged discussions these days. Anywhere and everywhere I was spotted, with or without Neil, I could feel the inquisitive eyes boring into the back of my skull. I could almost see the questions leaping out of their unopened mouths.
‘Who invited these people?’ My frustration got the better of me and I felt Neil’s arm tighten around my waist and his jaw twitch, just a little.
‘Why do you care to listen, my sweet?’ His voice, ever so smooth, somehow failed to calm me this time. ‘People will talk, you know that.’
‘ALL the freaking time?’ I whispered; leaning forward into his warm embrace and resting my head on his shoulder.
‘You care too much,’ he said shaking his head. ‘Come on.’
Taking my arm he led our way out of the room. ‘Do you need your coat?’ he said just as I was about to enquire why we’d paused in the foyer.
‘Do I?’ I asked distractedly.
The people on the room were staring... no, ogling him, rather, the pair of us. They tended to make me jealous often with the amount of fawning they did over him, but this time I wanted to smirk. I was the on his arm, and I was the one he wanted seclusion with.
‘I don’t think so. It’s not too chilly outside.’ And he smiled. His smile: the smile that million girls would kill for, the one that endless guys would duel for, just to be on the receiving end of. The one where his blue eyes sparked and his eyes crinkled at the corners, it was a genuine smile.
My heart sped up at the sight; three years and he still did that to me. But, it was only because it was more than a thousand days in his presence that I could identify when he was really, truly happy.
‘Careful! Watch the stairs.’ His tone was light, and his right hand made his way around my shoulders, gripping it, as he pulled me closer to his side. I was his!
I blushed at the slight reprimand. I’d been so mesmerised by his face that I hadn’t even noticed when he led me out of the house.
‘It is a beautiful evening.’ I couldn’t help feel elated as I saw where he was leading me to. The small canopied piece of garden, to the right of the driveway, the one that looked as if it was straight out of “The Sound of Music”, was where we had our first dance, out first kiss. It was also where he’d gone down on one knee asking me to be a part of his life “...till death did us part”.
Closing the glass doors behind us, we hummed our own tune as we danced to the music of our hearts.
I smiled.
This time when his arms tightened around me, my eyes closed, I leaned forward again, smiling, eager. I raised my face to his, welcoming his lips on mine. My entire body felt his want, and it responded. Pliant, co-operative, I moved as I knew he wanted me to, as I had learned he liked. My grip on his shoulder tightening as I felt his passionate nip on my lip: the saltiness was familiar, somewhat comforting too... mostly. It was the unsaid words of encouragement. It was my reward; it was what I wanted. What he knew I wanted.
It was HIM, all him! All over me, around me. Loving me like no other, wanting me like no one has ever wanted anyone before. And all without missing a single step in the dance... we were still dancing.
The timid knock on glass wrenched my unwilling eyes open, my entire body protesting to such a small effort.
‘What?’ The word was more of an annoyed whisper. Or was it an unintelligible croak?
‘Do you need some water, sir?’
The voice was unfamiliar, and the night was dark. Besides, I didn't really want the vice grips on my chest tightening any further. I could feel what Neil wanted, and I knew I would be the one paying the price if the unwanted visitor didn't go away, and right then!
‘No!’ The whisper was urgent I tried to make some sort of gesture to the man at the door.
My hand was restrained. ‘What the...’ I struggled. This was unusual!
It wasn’t Neil’s hands that did it. It was some sort of... bandage?
‘What?’ I turned my head to the figure; pain lancing through me at the effort.
‘Don't move!’ A man, doctor, gently ordered from near the door.
Flipping the light switch on, he smiled at me.
It was then when the recognition dawned. I laughed out loud.
‘Happy one this time?’ Robert Weiss, the doctor, pulled up the plastic chair and sat himself beside the bed.
‘The best one!’ I smiled wistfully. After all of this, after everything, I still wanted him to remain mine.
‘What was it about?’ Robert spooned some cool water in my parched mouth before settling down again.
‘I was dancing with the Devil in the pale Moonlight.’
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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