This came to me when hearing Daylight Goodbye by Message To Bears and I had to write it. Hope you like it!
Their feet sweep across the floor, as if flying, gliding in a kaleidoscope of lyrical bliss. Eyes follow them as they spin, curving and fitting together – as if born to waltz in one another's arms. He looks down at her, a smile starting on his face. She is the most attractive woman here, in this ballroom. No, beautiful. Her ebony hair is a stark contrast to her pale, creamy skin, and the gold necklace framing her slender, innocent neck gleams in the light. Her dress is dove grey and edged with burgundy lace that winds around the end of the three-quarter length sleeves and the hem. The waist is chicly cinched in, accentuating her waist. It is magenta, and draws his eye to a most becoming area that really any gentleman would have the respect to not observe at such close quarters. However, he has never considered himself a gentleman and contents himself with enjoying the view.
"I take it you are merely admiring my dress, Lord Downton, so I should indulge myself in questioning you about its decorations. Perhaps then you may then avert your eyes from my waist and reduce my discomfort in your stately presence." She meets his eyes, but hers are amused and playful. He has to bite back another smile.
"Indeed I was. I must say, it is most dazzling to be in the presence of one with such a sense of style," he murmurs, attempting to shut out the whispers ejaculating from all sides of the room.
"Is it my sense of style you admire or what is beneath the style?"
This time, he chuckles out loud, attracting some considerable attention. "Really, Miss Levinson, you must think me so proud as to see you as a doll to observe and not as a human. I never thought such a thing."
"I did not think of your pride, I was thinking of your indiscretion."
"My indiscretion?" They come to a halt in the middle of the room. "Miss Levinson..." He leans in and takes her arm, as if speaking conspiratorially. "Miss Levinson, I believe you to be a most becoming young lady, and I make no secret of that. Thank you for permitting me as your dance partner, your feet are beyond my own capabilities." He smiles again, slipping a piece of paper into her white-gloved hand. "Good-night, Miss Cora Levinson." And he departs, leaving her quite embarrassed and amazed. She looks at the piece of paper, and begins to unfold it when she feels another arm takes hers. She looks up to meet her mother's gaze, who fixes her with a gimlet eye.
"I'll take that, Cora, dear."
"But, Mama..."
"Cora, you know I'm all for a party, but you need to control yourself. You cannot speak so intimately with someone you barely know – especially a gentleman like Viscount Downton!" With that, she gently tugs the piece of paper from her incredulous daughter's grasp and leads her out the room, as if abandoning Cora's ease that arose once on the dancefloor.
