waltz

The waltz

The first soft notes of the waltz whirls around them. Slowly the couple moves into eachother’s arms. Both are a little scared and hesitant, but they brace themselves for this dance. They are alone, even though they are surrounded by a crowd. The world around them has melted away and only this moment seemed to matter. The truth weighed down both their hearts.
He clasps her dainty gloved hand into his hard grip and places the other at her slender, familiar waist. They had danced to this song once before, a long time ago. With each step, from her satin slippers, causes her pale pink ballgown to brush up against his muscular legs. Her porcelain features appeared void of any emotion, but underneath the mask was a whirlwind of uncertainty. His jaw is set in stone and only his eyes portray the fury that is held inside. She cannot look into those eyes or all her poise will be lost.
The crowd is drinking in all the tension between them. Daphne and Sebastian. They all knew their story. One of pure love, anger and sadness. Everyone is drawn to the two figures on the dance floor. Not a whisper can be heard for all eyes and ears are waiting for the truth to be told.
Sebastian was pronounced dead by his Majesty’s Royal Army, and yet here he is breaking down the walls Daphne had built around her heart. Step by step around the elegant ballroom causes brick by brick to fall. He tightens his grip on her waist, almost to the point of pain. Her eyes flutter upwards to meet his and she falters a step. All her pain is mirrored in his eyes. Wishing he would take her into his arms and force all the pain away in one kiss.
Sebastian pulls her closer and tongues begin to comment on the proximity of their bodies. Fans begin to flutter, desperately trying to cool off the passion waving over the audience. He whispers roughly to her....
“I want the truth from you...”
Daphne’s stomach flips over. This was the moment she dreaded. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to explain why she never waited for him. She didn’t want to tell him that she was being forced to marry. She didn’t want to hurt him. Such a terrible mess, and the truth was far to complicated for her to explain during a brief waltz.
His eyes pleaded for an answer and her eyes pleaded for time. How she wished the song would never end. Then she would never have to reopen the wounds that had taken years to heal when she had told about his death.
“I can’t do this now...” she whispers, looking away from his gaze.
Daphne’s eyes catch a glimpse of her fiancé, Lord Blackwood, he is moving quickly through the crowd of onlookers. Pushing his way to the edges of the circle. There he stood watching, waiting for the truth to be told.
Sebastian notices her distracted stare and zeros in on the other man. They lock eyes and a message is relayed. Deciding to make it known to all he roughly pulls Daphne hard against his body. A loud gasp is heard from the crowd. He punishes her with his lips. Punishing her for not waiting, punishing her for loving another. This kiss was a direct challenge to the fiancé and a message to every peer of the ton that Daphne was and always will be his. Her moan of pleasure brings him back to the moment at hand. He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers and whispers...
“Give me the truth from your heart. Give me the truth, and than you shall be rid of me.”
Her vision blurs as tears begin to fill her blue eyes. That one kiss devastated her self-restraint over her feelings. Her soul screamed as he had pulled away. Her heart once again shatters this time for the fact that they would never have a future together. He softens at the sight of her tears and he loosens his fierce grip.
The crowd around them once again hushed, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for the truth and waiting for her decision. Handkerchiefs are being pulled out of breast pockets as the crowd is overwhelmed with their pain. Sobs of sympathy are loud and scattered throughout the ballroom, but go unoticed by the two lovers.
She raises her eyes to his and declares “Sebastian....I love you... No matter what happens know that. Trust in that.”
The soft notes of the waltz ceases and they step apart.
“I want the truth from you, now.” he demands, taking her hand and placing it at the crook of his elbow he escorts her out to the garden Terrence. Out among the roses and gardenias the truth will be said.
The crowd roars into action as they depart the room. Some openly crying and others openly betting the outcome. One man, Lord Blackwood stares at the retreating form of his fiancé and prays that the outcome will favor him. He wishes to follow, to fight for her hand, but he knows to ever win Daphne’s heart, she must allow him to enter.