9
3-word prompt, submitted by Miranda_Jayne: "Pride and Prejudice." (credit: Jane Austen, "Pride and Prejudice", chapter 18)
She'd just slid back to Lanie's side, quietly chatting with her friend when he was suddenly next to her, taking her by such surprise when he reached for her hand that she had accepted before she'd thought it through. He walked off, clearly expecting her to follow and she found herself shocked into immobility, fretting over why she couldn't just have said no.
Lanie bumped her side. "Come on, girl, why are you still standing here instead of getting your freak on with Writer Boy?"
"Hah! Never. He's annoying, self-centered, egotistical, and completely…"
"Fun?!" Lanie pushed her forward into the crowd as the band began the next song, and Castle took her hand once more, tugging her into the curve of his arms. Head held high, Kate took her place, adopted the formal posture of the dance and they started moving together almost effortlessly, the melody of the song guiding their steps and silence hanging between them, awkward and heavy. She didn't know where to look, her gaze traveling over his shoulder and across the crowd, surreptitiously eyeing the guests, reading in the looks of mainly the women their amazement that the rich, famous writer had chosen her as his dance partner.
He broke the silence first. "I think it's your turn to talk. I invited you to dance, isn't it time for you to make an acerbic comment?"
She looked at him, arched an eyebrow. "Whatever you want."
"Oh look, that's a smile! Come on, at least it's a private event. No paparazzi will get a photo of you in my arms and plaster you all over page 6." She just stayed silent, staring him down. Served him right for dragging her to this fancy-ass event. He only barely won this bet anyway. "Okay fine, we can be quiet," he acquiesced.
"Do you ever not run your mouth?"
"Occasionally. Someone has to talk at least a little. It'd be so awkward if we dance through this set, not speaking a word to each other. Though I guess some people-" He emphasized the last words, staring pointedly at her, "are quite adept at saying as little as possible in reply."
"Are you just thinking of yourself here, or also considering my feelings?"
"Both. We're quite alike, you and me. I can see it. We're both alphas, we need to define our territory, we just go about it in different ways-"
Just then a donor tapped Castle on the shoulder, their heads sinking together in discussion for a few moments, and Kate politely waited them out, because running away would've just made his point.
"Sorry about that." He wrapped a hand around her waist, dragging her back against him. "William's interruption made me forget what we were talking about."
"We weren't really speaking at all. In fact, we'd be hard-pressed to find two people in this room who had less to say for themselves."
"Alright. So tell me then, what do you think of my books?"
"Really? That's the topic you're going for?"
"Why not? At least we'd not be lacking a subject. We can compare and contrast opinions and viewpoints-"
"My mind is always too occupied with other things to spend time analyzing your writing."
"The present always occupies you at any moment, doesn't it?" He said, looking at her with so much understanding in the blue of his eyes that she suddenly felt stripped bare, her throat closing with a knot of tears.
"Yes, always," she admitted, their eyes holding while the room span around them as he waltzed her through the crowd, his hand warm where it lay against her skin, spread wide along her lower back.
"You don't forgive easily," he whispered, his mouth near her ear, the words for her alone. "and resentment, once created, is unappeasable. So you're cautious, I suppose, create a wall around you, keep distant so as to avoid creating it."
"I am."
"And you don't ever allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?" He pulled away slightly, looking straight at her. Her stomach fluttered.
"I hope not."
"It seems necessary for those who never change their opinion to not falsely judge based upon first impressions."
She swallowed hard, her breathing faltering. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"
"To figure you out. Trying to peel that Beckett onion," he winked, seemingly trying to shake her from her grave mood.
"And how's that going for you so far?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. There's so many sides to you." His eyes serious again, he dragged her closer so that her body was pressed against him, and her heart kept stumbling despite her determination to remain unaffected.
"I think you're a mystery I am never going to solve." The honesty, the barely disguised need in his voice startled her.
"I know-" She began, had to focus her thoughts, began again. "I know that I'm not the easiest person to get to know." She lifted her eyes to his, fought the tears that unreasonably tried to well up her eyes. She felt exposed, was making herself vulnerable in ways she hadn't thought she'd want to ever be with him. "What you see isn't all of me. And I wish… Castle, I hope you won't judge my character on who I am now, because there are reasons that I am how I am-"
"I'm just afraid," he admitted, his index finger running up along her spine, making her shiver. "that I may never have another opportunity."
She found his eyes, her fingers trailing over his sternum where his heart was leaping beneath her fingertips. "You will."
