Flutters
AN: Just a random little one-shot I transcribed to rid myself of writer's block. Definitely not my best work, but...here it is.
With her heart an excited flutter, she descended from the carriage, her feet adorned with an elegant design of black with a small heel. Layers of silk and lace swept about her in a fluid motion as she rose, the sapphire diaphanous material of her gown flowing gracefully about her, adapting with soft caresses to her every movement. The beautiful cobalt curtains transformed as the eye traveled towards the corseted bodice, titivated by a loose ribbon, which fitted close to the body's form. Fair shoulders were nigh bare, only touched by a wrap, dainty and elegant as a peignoir, and brunette curls of hair, framing the visage aptly, and adding to the overall feminine pulchritude and allure. Her eyes were scintillating orbs of gold and umber, often adapting a mesmerizing iridescence, her lips pink rose petals. She was lovely and blithe, and had arrived at the lavish fortress to partake in the ball, to dance.
A gentleman approached her, dressed handsomely in suit of equal blackness with a white rose which served as a contrast. Bowing respectfully before her, she accordingly acquiesced as he proffered a hand and escorted her to the door, thereby opening it, and allowing her entrance before following after her and retaking her arm. He was a charming fellow, groomed immaculately and exuding an air of confidence and pleasure which matched that of his lady. The gentleman pulled out a chair for the lady once they reached a table in the dining room, and then seated himself beside her. She smiled as he whispered in her ear; a smile which said more than words could ever possibly say—that she was amorous. Thus, the chill in the night air and stares from those filled with envy at such beauty the couple exuded were but superfluous, frivolous. And the night wore on, a night filled with dances, predominately the valse, the gentleman catching her as she spun, her gown twirling with her.
He remained devotedly by her side, and she by his, as they walked under the stars in one another's embrace. She grew fraught with hesitancy as they paused amidst the vast trees in the sheltered wood outside the manor from which the ball was taking place. The moon expelled luminescent shafts of light through the brambles, descending upon the sculpted visages of the night. The gentleman grew close with smiling reassurance as he reached out a hand to softly attend to a tress fallen loose upon her forehead—surely a result of spinning, twirling, laughing.
She returned the smile, though the breath in her throat faltered, and a nervous habit returned of fiddling with an amulet tucked away in a small pocket amidst the folds of her gown. As he drew his hand away, lowering his eyes in an apologetic manner, she suddenly was drawn to scold herself. Certainly his intentions were noble, not in the least licentious. Placing a gloved hand upon his arm, she hindered him in his attempt to walk on. Doubled with a covert smile, she bid him return, an action gladly done. Reaching into said folds of the gown, she extracted a folded leaf of parchment, slightly crinkled, yet crisp. The gentleman's eyes instantly lighted in pleased recognition. Yes, yes, she answered to his unspoken question, she had received the billet-doux, the beauteous love letter—
Doubts replaced by relieved sighs escaped his lips with the intelligence that the dispatch had reached her, had not been intercepted, despite the rain, despite the lengthy voyage on horseback. Searching her eyes, he found only pleasure and passion, a far transformation from the diffidence afore detected. Apologies attempted to spill forth from the dainty mouth, yet were swiftly, abruptly impeded as gentle lips pressed down upon gentle lips, petals meeting petals, leafy extremities entangling briefly. With a sigh, her heart hammered, and his, the same, as her hand lingered against his chest. With faces aglow, he reluctantly urged them forward, returning towards the carriage that patiently awaited them, as the night drew to a close. The trees thinned, the manor visible, while situated in front was indeed the ornate carriage, led by two proud, dignified stallions, pawing the ground tentatively, the breath from their nares discernible as a misty cloud in the brisk air.
As they neared the carriage, she once again grew fraught with hesitancy and he paused, concern lacing his features. With a frantic murmuring, quick and indiscernible, she captured his lips in a final display of affection, lingering pleasantly as hands faintly caressed, sighing longingly as lips aversely parted. Gazing over her, he smirked as he noted a blush upon her cheeks in response to his commenting on her audacity. She simply excused her actions as repayment, as she tapped the billet-doux.
Taking her hand then, he led her to her carriage, in response to the worried glances cast by the footman, who had repeatedly glanced at his pocket watch, well aware that it was past the midnight hour. With her heart an excited flutter, she ascended, whilst he remained—one glance, and the same question burned in one another's eyes. Yet she smiled, a smile which said more than words could ever possibly say, and comprehending, he released her hand, and bid her a polite farewell, nigh left unheeded as the words were consumed by the hammering of hooves as the carriage sped away. Returning to the porch, he was pensive, hopeful, his mind still occupied by the presence of an intriguing lady, nestled in a carriage, protected, whilst he was unfettered, made only to do his bidding in accordance to his profession. And oh, the free moments of leisure were a boon. A smile rose to his lips, in the realization that she too, was allowed freedom of times. Freedom to love; freedom indeed transformed form lackadaisical leisure to increased pleasure, not for once taken for granted again.