Wednesday, December 31, 2014

#WednesdayBriefs Dance into the Year #HappyNewYear #romance #flashfiction

Greetings lovelies, 

I can't believe this is the last Wednesday Brief of the year! Time flies when you're having fun. THANK YOU, Readers for being my company this past year and for making it a fun year. I hope you enjoy this last brief and I hope to see you next year!

Happy 2015!

XOXO
Elyzabeth 


 
Dance into the Year




Portia placed her gloved hand on the handle. She hesitated. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She should be at home eating ice cream, watching lame 80’s movies and cuddling with her pet. She glanced at the cab’s clock. It was 11:00 pm. She could still make it to her family’s dinner party. Granted, there wouldn’t be any food left but at least she wouldn’t be alone for New Years.

“Are you getting out, miss?”

The driver’s thick Spanish accent brought her out of her reverie. She nodded. She’d come this far. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least go inside and have a look around. Her hands shook as she opened the door. Careful not to step on the hem of her Tudor inspired ball gown, she stepped outside. She huddled beneath her cloak as goose bumps sprouted over her flesh. Whether it was the cool weather or her nerves she couldn’t say for sure. The taxi sped off. She turned her head at the sound of loud laughter. A group of beautiful, tall, portly, women dressed in lavish gowns approached the historical building where the New Year’s party was taking place. They chatted loudly, clearly excited to be there. None of Portia’s friends had wanted to go with her.

She was about to turn away from the group, when she saw him. He walked a few steps behind the women. His tall, broad frame was accentuated by the midnight blue period costume he wore. His long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a ribbon. Her heart sped up. She definitely didn’t belong her. She was nothing like those people. She was short, with frizzy curls impossible to control and love handles. She should go home. Sighing, she pulled off her mask and gave the handsome man one last look. She gasped. He had stopped moving and was staring at her with impossible blue eyes. She blinked. The light had to be playing a trick on her. Eyes couldn’t be that color. Abruptly, he started walking in her direction. She dropped her mask. Her cheeks burned and she hastened to pick it up. She had to get out of there. She spun around and frantically wove her hand 
in the air to hail a cab.

“Leaving so soon?”

His voice was smooth as velvet. She could drown in that voice. Her eyes drifted shut as his fingers curled around her wrist, lowering her hand. Gently, he twirled her to face him. Swallowing the bundle of nerves traveling across her esophagus she lifted her head to meet his eyes. They were icy blue and real.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Viktor.” His plumps lips curled into a smile that made her want to stand on her tiptoes and kiss him.

“Portia,” she mumbled. “I am Portia.”

“Portia.”

She nodded as he repeated her name rolling the r as if it were a delectable sweet.

“It is a beautiful name. Why are you leaving, Portia?”

She shrugged.

“Do you not wish to dance? Do you not wish to start the New Year twirling through the crowds, laughing at life and what being left behind?”

“I—“

She paused. Laugh at life and the horrible year she’d had. To start the year in a new way. That was why she was doing this. Viktor pulled her hand to his lips and brushed them across her palm. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her knees went weak. To dance with him.

“Surely, you will give me the privilege of at least one dance.”

“I—“

“You cannot refuse, Portia. I know you want to.”

She nodded. His smile was as beautiful as the sunshine.

“Come, Portia. We shall enter together and all shall know that your last dance shall be with me”

“Last dance?” she managed to ask.

“Of the year, my beautiful one. As will be the first one, will it not, Portia?”

“Yes.”

The first, the second and as many dances as he wanted. How could she say no to Viktor?
Her cheeks burned as they entered the ball room. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft yellow glow on the hardwood floor. Dressed in tuxedos a group of musicians played lively music in the corner. People moved about either dancing or chatting in the sidelines. They walked to the middle of the floor. Portia trembled. Viktor swept her into his arms.

“Relax and enjoy, my Portia,” he whispered.

Perhaps it was the magic of the night or perhaps it was the warmth that irradiated from Viktor but her tension dissipated. She couldn’t tell how long they danced, only that suddenly people were counting down, bells were chiming and the year was coming to an end. They didn’t stop moving. No, he continued to twirl her around even as his mouth descended on hers as softly as butterfly wings. She wrapped her arms more tightly around him, moaning as he pulled her closer and explored her mouth.

The clock went quiet. Viktor pulled back and looked at her. She smiled and he returned the gesture.

“The new year stands before us, like a chapter in a book, waiting to be written. Will you be my first chapter of the New Year, Portia?”

“Yes.”

The End.  
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