"The Hunt" – M.
Mood Music: "Opus 36" by Dustin O'Halloran
Black. Tuxedos. Champagne. Crystal glasses. Silk dresses. Nothing about his party is any different from all the other parties that are held here every weekend. Celebrating another person's birthday, another engagement, another excuse to search for something you haven't found during the week. I never find it. I stand in the back corner, on the balcony overlooking the entire ballroom. Filled with people, myriad amounts of black tuxedoes and suits peppered with soft colours of the women's outfits.
I tap my index finger against the champagne glass before lifting it up to my mouth to swallow what is left of the ghastly liquid. Tonight it holds no magic for me, no golden elixir producing happiness and courage to talk to any of the normally beautiful women. As I lower my glass I look for one of the waiters to take it away so I can leave, alone yet again. I spot him, he is walking over to my side of the balcony, weaving his way between laughter and blurred visions. I take a small step forward, out of the half shadows to place my empty glass on the silver circular tray. As I do my eyes drift over the balustrade and to the dance floor – filled with endless bodies.
The ribbons of dark brown hair fall down her naked back, stopping just above the red of her dress, which descends to the ground in a satin shower. I am captivated. I can't move. I must look like an idiot standing frozen in space with my eyes steadily transfixed on this creature. She moves to kiss her friends goodbye on their cheeks. I lean my head to the right to try and see her face. I can't – I need to – who is she? Even from behind I can see that she lowers her head to look at the floor as she begins to move towards the doors to leave. She holds her dress at her sides so as not to step on it as she walks. She can't be leaving, I feel as if I have waited a lifetime for her – I need to be able to talk to her, to exist with her, for her to look at me with a smile on her face that is so amazingly lovely that it hurts to look away. She is leaving. I take a step to my right and bump into someone after keeping my eyes connected to her back. "Excuse me" I desperately say as I almost dance as I weave my way through the crowd of bright, happy people.
My height increases and decreases as my feet keep me in sight of her whilst I make my way to the staircase. My hand is on the balustrade as I quickly decline the stairs, looking down to make sure I won't loose my footing on them. I look up and almost miss the last stair – I can't see her anymore. The brown and red have disappeared, vanished into the night. I have no time to be polite as I push my way through the scores of people. As I get to the door, flanked by butlers, I raise my hand to my bronze hair and pull it though – probably making it look as if I have just gotten out of bed, but I cannot care about anything but finding her. As I make a move to leave the doors are opened for me with a farewell only just falling on my un-listening ears; "Good evening Sir."
I frantically look around, searching the entire front yard which is being used as a parking lot. My eyes are slowly adjusting to the black of night, when I see it. The light from one of the house's windows spills onto the silky red, the liquid brown, now accompanied by peal smooth skin that would be heaven to touch. She is sitting in the gazebo, her legs crossed and her head moving from side to side, searching for something. Could she have seen me? Could she have wanted me to see her? My mouth becomes dry as I adjust my tie and again mess my hair up. I start to walk forward – I still haven't seen her face.
I am mealy steps away now but still in shadows. My breathing becomes harder – she is literally taking my breath away. I am but five steps away from taking her in my arms when she jumps up – has she seen me? She doesn't turn around – she continues to look out in the other direction – the other entrance to the gazebo. Has she heard me? I have stopped dead. I realize this and take another step forward – this time accidentally on some fallen autumn leaves. The crackle under foot and remind me of something precious breaking. I have followed the sound of the leaves with my head, I look up to her again – she is still looking out into the darkness.
All of a sudden a great specimen of a man appears from the shadows. He has long black hair and russet skin. His whole face seems to smile when he sees her face. He ducks his head as he enters the small gazebo and lifts her up into his arms as his mouth covers hers. Her perfect peal white arms are above his shoulders, entangling the fingers in his hair as they continue to stay connected. Her feet are not on the ground as he spins her around. The air is filled with her muffled laughter as he sets her down, his kisses lingering. He sets her down with his back to me – her face is now all that I can see. It is as beautiful as I imagined it would be. Perfectly small features encased in the almost transparent white skin with the ribbons of brown liquid hair framing it beautifully. Her eyes. Brown, deep as the endless universe and transfixed on him, not me.
"Bella, I'm so sorry I'm late" he professes as he brushes a piece of hair behind her ear. I fall back into the shadows once again, hearing that braking sound come not from the fallen leaves but from my heart.