Poetry in motion
The room stills as the devastatingly handsome couple make their way down the wide elegant staircase.
Her hair is casually held on top of her head; ripples of ebony elegantly cascade down her back and frame her beautiful face, half lidded mocha eyes are framed by dark lashes, full soft lips are pulled into a slight pout as she gazes up at the man on her arm. Her shimmering emerald dress laps at her slender feet, while the silken material wraps around her form like a creeping vine, or the soft caress of a lover.
From his height he gazes down at her somewhat mockingly, but the sparkle of amusement in his hazel eyes can be seen from half way across the room. The power in his confidant stride flickers beneath the surface of his graceful movements. He leans down to catch her whisper and glances up, sharp hazel eyes searing their audience. He then arches a brow before allowing a truly arrogant smile to curl upon his beautiful lips, one which only the very rich can afford to cultivate.
Their every move is scrutinised and assessed as they indifferently glide down, poetry in motion.
When they touch the bottom of the staircase, murmurs of conversation are started again as their audience turns back to one another, acceptance, for another affluent couple who have found a way to continue shining above the filth and degradation of the lower classes.
He places a hand on the small of her back and they disappear within the crowds of walking talking columns of silks and velvets.
The room pauses again to survey the next couple…
They stopped behind an inconspicuous looking plant, looking to any one who glanced their way as another couple of young lovers eager to be alone again.
Leaning down for her to whisper into his ear he lazily glances around.
"A-lec" she murmurs, smirking he looks down at the beautiful woman encased in emerald silk
"Yes Maxie?" He all but purrs, she gives him a radiant smile…
"If you don't remove your hand, I'll break your fingers."
"Now Max, you don't want to give away our cover do you?" he chastises lightly, flashing her a winning smile... but still doesn't remove the offending hand, the other does however snake out to grasp at a circling tray of pre-pulse champagne, he offers her the crystalline flute with flourish…
"…you've planted the bomb?"
"Oh come on Max this is kiddie stuff…"
She raised a threatening fist at him; he captures it and raises it to his lips.
She shoots him a dirty look which promptly turns into an adoring gaze as another couple passes by, nodding and smiling.