There was nothing I wanted more than him.
At soirees and family get togethers, I would spot him from across the room.
That tall lumbering brute of a man, wait he was not brute, too clean, too bred and born into the genteel aristocracy. His impeccable white and gold naval uniform was a delicious eyesore amongst the less impeccable officers and their generals. His body is too slim for that type of raw strength some muscled shoulders and chests would have, but his swagger as he stands still. Sweet Christ on a cracker. He knows his power, knows his family name, knows the power one word or look has on those around him. The flip of his dark black braid whenever he damn well pleases. A lasso that swept the close space behind him. I wondered what it looks like when it was loose… would it be a waterfall of glossy onyx, would it be soft, could I ever dream of running my fingers through it. Just to feel it, just the one time…
"Theresa."
My cousin kisses my cheek, frozen in time since I caught sight of him again.
"Please tell me you are not doing it again, staring, really?"
"Is it that obvious," the cherry red on my cheeks grows with the subtle nod of her head.
The shame washes over me.
Ashamed for being caught, and ashamed that he didn't even notice it.
There was a reason why I made my infatuation so obvious, because I wanted him to ruddy well notice me. Perhaps, Dietfried Bougainvillea was not that aware at parties like these, choosing to dull his senses as I once did, imagine he was someplace better, someplace quiet, private, just to get away from it all. Perhaps, he was too occupied with the conversation he was having with the Head of the CH Postal Company, he had become far more serious and distant amongst his friends since his younger brother had passed away in the War.
"He didn't notice me staring." I mumble my grumble to my patient cousin, that has joined me at the fringes of the party, a party I could care less of being noticed at. Except by him, only him. "He never notices me staring."
My cousin shrugs, her white bows kissing her bare shoulders. "Perhaps he just doesn't like girls."
I step on my cousin's foot, "no, never!"
She chuckles and moans at my distress and walks away knowing what is good for her.
Despite her teasing, perhaps she is right…
Perhaps he would never notice.
Perhaps…
Dietfried is looking my way, over my shoulder.
I turn to see what he is looking at, nothing but the wall behind me, seeing nothing I turn around disappointed.
I look back only to see him walking my way. A sanguine smirk spreading over his face as he walks in my direction, wait, not in my direction, he is walking to me. The crowd parts as he makes his way across the heavily crowded party room, his gorgeous lime eyes taunting me into a frightened little girl. How could I ever have found him attractive? He is terrifying. He is a large cat, on the prowl... and I'm his meal.
"You're Theresa Fliech, aren't you?"
Past the wave of fear, something comes. A giddy feeling I would have in the middle of the night when I had imagined this moment. The little girl that had become infatuated is screaming in my head. He knows my name. He knows my name. He knows my name. He knows, my name, my name, MY NAME! I let her, because I never thought this would ever happen, not in my wildest dreams would this be a reality.
"Well?"
I can't help it.
My galloping heart falls out my ass.