hilt.
“Careful with that, my lady.”
“Swords equal pain, violence, even death,” I reply, ignoring his concern. “Is this what I would marry into? A man skilled only with the sword, yet not in the arts of friendship, understanding... love?”
He pauses, reflecting on my words. I inch closer, passing the hilt into his hand.
“Swords do not make the man, Mr Macey.”
I walked down a dank side street with Jen, heading towards the nightclub. I could already hear the pounding music, and as we entered without the need for I.Ds, the noise grew louder. I’d hesitated to accept Jen’s offer of a night out, but after a busy week at work, I’d agreed that we’d earned the time to let off some steam. Excitedly, we’d gone shopping during our lunch break, whilst Mr Whitmore reluctantly covered for us. She didn’t have enough for another dress, but I managed to scrimp enough to buy one for myself. As soon as I saw the colour, I knew I had to have it. It was lilac, an almost identical shade to the dress in my dream, although the style differed. Instead of the puffball sleeves and high empire waistline, it was sleeveless, and the satin material reached to just above my knees. A cream coloured scarf graced my neck, which met with Jen’s disapproval, but she was just happy we were going out.
Jen seemed to know quite a few people in the club, inclining her head and waving her hand, as we weaved our way through the heavy throng of bodies, stopping on the odd occasion for a quick chat. Finally, we made it to the bar area, and Jen ordered us a couple of cocktails, pulling a note from her purse. After a brief sniff, I took a sip. It was icy cold, with a slight tang that lingered on my tongue. Jen had already downed her drink, sighed with satisfaction and ordered another. She was wearing the same plunging cobalt blue dress again, already calling it her ‘Lucky Dress,’ after telling me how many guys were admiring her when she wore it to the Halloween party at the weekend. Apparently, I should have been there. She hadn’t needed to buy a drink all night. I glanced down at Jen’s black stiletto heels. Now, she almost matched my height. I had no need for heels at five feet seven inches, and wore a pair of simple flat shoes instead, choosing comfort over fashion. It was much more practical for dancing anyway. Jen toyed with her phone and spoke in my ear.
“You know I said someone might be able to help you? Her name is Ellen and she’s coming here tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, as she met my gaze. I tried calling above the noise. “I don’t need a shrink.”
She shook her head. “Ellen’s not a shrink.”
Jen grabbed my hands and pulled me back into the crowd, leaving me only just enough time to place my glass back on the bar. Finally finding a small space on this sardine tin of a dance-floor, we began dancing to the music. It seemed to come naturally to Jen, and already she was being admired by a couple of guys. The dress hadn’t lost any of its luck. Leaving her to their smiles, I decided to allow my body to be controlled by the beat of the music, the disco lights flashing rainbow colours everywhere. I’d never felt so free before. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was so caught up in dancing, that I was startled when someone tapped my shoulder from behind. Alex stood before me, wearing denim jeans and a shirt, the top buttons left undone. His smile made me reach for something to hold onto, but I ended up slipping. He swooped in, taking me into his arms before I hit the floor. We were so close I could feel his heart beating against my chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here. But I’m glad you are.”
I hid my embarrassment by turning away. “Jen’s here too.” I frowned, unable to see her. “At least, she was.”
I
“Careful with that, my lady.”
“Swords equal pain, violence, even death,” I reply, ignoring his concern. “Is this what I would marry into? A man skilled only with the sword, yet not in the arts of friendship, understanding... love?”
He pauses, reflecting on my words. I inch closer, passing the hilt into his hand.
“Swords do not make the man, Mr Macey.”
I walked down a dank side street with Jen, heading towards the nightclub. I could already hear the pounding music, and as we entered without the need for I.Ds, the noise grew louder. I’d hesitated to accept Jen’s offer of a night out, but after a busy week at work, I’d agreed that we’d earned the time to let off some steam. Excitedly, we’d gone shopping during our lunch break, whilst Mr Whitmore reluctantly covered for us. She didn’t have enough for another dress, but I managed to scrimp enough to buy one for myself. As soon as I saw the colour, I knew I had to have it. It was lilac, an almost identical shade to the dress in my dream, although the style differed. Instead of the puffball sleeves and high empire waistline, it was sleeveless, and the satin material reached to just above my knees. A cream coloured scarf graced my neck, which met with Jen’s disapproval, but she was just happy we were going out.
Jen seemed to know quite a few people in the club, inclining her head and waving her hand, as we weaved our way through the heavy throng of bodies, stopping on the odd occasion for a quick chat. Finally, we made it to the bar area, and Jen ordered us a couple of cocktails, pulling a note from her purse. After a brief sniff, I took a sip. It was icy cold, with a slight tang that lingered on my tongue. Jen had already downed her drink, sighed with satisfaction and ordered another. She was wearing the same plunging cobalt blue dress again, already calling it her ‘Lucky Dress,’ after telling me how many guys were admiring her when she wore it to the Halloween party at the weekend. Apparently, I should have been there. She hadn’t needed to buy a drink all night. I glanced down at Jen’s black stiletto heels. Now, she almost matched my height. I had no need for heels at five feet seven inches, and wore a pair of simple flat shoes instead, choosing comfort over fashion. It was much more practical for dancing anyway. Jen toyed with her phone and spoke in my ear.
“You know I said someone might be able to help you? Her name is Ellen and she’s coming here tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, as she met my gaze. I tried calling above the noise. “I don’t need a shrink.”
She shook her head. “Ellen’s not a shrink.”
Jen grabbed my hands and pulled me back into the crowd, leaving me only just enough time to place my glass back on the bar. Finally finding a small space on this sardine tin of a dance-floor, we began dancing to the music. It seemed to come naturally to Jen, and already she was being admired by a couple of guys. The dress hadn’t lost any of its luck. Leaving her to their smiles, I decided to allow my body to be controlled by the beat of the music, the disco lights flashing rainbow colours everywhere. I’d never felt so free before. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was so caught up in dancing, that I was startled when someone tapped my shoulder from behind. Alex stood before me, wearing denim jeans and a shirt, the top buttons left undone. His smile made me reach for something to hold onto, but I ended up slipping. He swooped in, taking me into his arms before I hit the floor. We were so close I could feel his heart beating against my chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here. But I’m glad you are.”
I hid my embarrassment by turning away. “Jen’s here too.” I frowned, unable to see her. “At least, she was.”
I
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