Writing, Writing Prompts

Could Be Worse

One Could Do Worse

 

In this infinite world of beauty and luxury, one could certainly do worse than this. Dancers spun around spinning turning about their gowns flairing. The orchestra played their waltz. Bored party goers sat on the side lines watching the people come and go. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling lighting the room with swirls of crystal white. Tuxedos finely fitted to the men strutting about. Dresses embedded with jewels. Yes. One could do worse.

Her eyes shifted to the man in the corner near hidden. His face white and sullen showed a lack of affection for parties such as this. He was going to turn this party topsy-turvy. And it was going to be a blast. All she had to do was wait for the signal. It was hard waiting. The people drifting had absolutely no idea of the events about to unfold. It was so hard waiting.

Lifting her head, she watched the man glide to the dance floor like a poltergeist. A flutter started in her stomach. It was like kismet, fate, destiny. Whatever you wished to call it. He was hers. She stood graceful as a supernatural being could be. Floating to the dance floor, she held out her ashen hand the man taking it.

Everyone watched as the two moved in perfect sync. Each step timed with each other. Every movement liquid. It had gone silent apart from their steps rhythmic in their clicks.

No one was quite sure what to do about them. They couldn’t ask them to leave. It could lead to war. They couldn’t have them crashing their parties, but what were they to do? Eyes flicked about nervously, unsure of what was to transpire. The two remain staring into each other’s eyes. A small barest hint of a twitch at the corner of his lips.

“You look beautiful tonight, My Queen.” His deep baritone rumbled washing excitement over her features.

“Thank you, My King.” She didn’t hide her expressions nearly as well as he did, nor did she try to. Her smile was brighter than the lights shining about them.

A nefarious smile crept across his face.

“They’re staring, My Liege.” She whispered a coy smile on her lips, a blush on her pale cheeks.

“One can not resist staring at the brightest star in the night sky, Meine Perle.” He kept them dancing and turning though the music had long since stopped.

They didn’t continue for long. There were things to do. He held her hand high with his as he turned to lead her from the dance floor. Black seeped from the windows. People screamed panicking.

She looked from him to the table he led her to. Foods of various sort scattered on the table in ornate patterns. People scrambled about behind her running from the black. Picking up a food, she returned her eyes to him lifting to her lips the soft delicatessen.

 

Advertisements