Her ... Gift

"...The music was loud. The beat louder. It jostled her sense and she smiled as patrons played in the numbed dimension of drunkenness that made them obnoxious and endearing at the same time.

She felt the effects of her own drink. A warmth. An easing of the tension between cells. The sliding into the sway of music as things took on a more liquid hew.

It was a sudden jolt as someone clipped her elbow and her drink fell with a silent shattering on the floor. Irritation like a white light flashed over her but it was slowly drowned by the quiet assurance that enveloped her from the side. As if he had always been there. He bent and spread a white handkerchief on the floor. Piece by piece he began to pick up the shattered remnants of her glass. She wanted to protest. It was nothing but a bar glass. But she was spell bound by the act itself. Here .. in a place like this. As if the cheap shards were diamond chips.

His shoulders were strong. The dark suit fit like it was tailored. It probably was .. not many men carried handkerchiefs any more. Not in the circles she was used to milling around in. But that was the point .. right? Why she was here. His hair was black and cut close to his head. The idle thought of touching it left her with the assuring assumption that it would caress her fingers right back.

He rose and her eyes met his and she knew then this was the man she had been sent to meet. But a sudden defiance welled up in her as his black gaze seemed so aware of her .. so comfortable as if he knew and did not care. She felt her own chin lift as he offered her his arm. When had the music .. the sound of the crowd ... faded? What was she doing? His face was so strong and sure. It matched the picture but .. if only the picture could have warned her of the power that emanated from him. Like the scent of his cologne. Clean .. pure ... something with cedar.

From the moment she put her fingers at the crook of his elbow the feel of his suit .. the muscle beneath ... she dropped her head respectfully. But a terribly gentle touch lifted her chin. Her eyes met his mouth and rose no further. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was the way it went .. the dance.

But he kept insisting.. breaking the rules. Lifting her features until her eyes would submit and meet his own black ones again. She felt his gaze race through her blood stream as it touched her lungs. When the connection was made he nodded .. turning to walk from the bar and without trying or thinking about it at all her step fell naturally with his.

A roller coaster of emotion. She was doing exactly what she had been sent to do .. better than she had planned it herself and yet .. and yet ... she had the knowledge she was no more in control of these events any more than the wave controlled the tide or the island controlled the volcano .. they were simply along for the ride...."

- from one of mine