In response to the Chelsie Prompt: Theatre

Flesh and the Devil, 1927

"But I don't like to sit in the back of the theatre Elsie," Charles grumbled as they made way through the crowd to find seats in the busy theatre.

"Well, Charlie try to concentrate on the fact that I've a night off and let's enjoy the time together," his very reasonable wife chided with a hint of exasperation. Honestly, her husband could find the fault in any situation that put a chink in his plans.

"You know very well that the only people who sit in the back of the theatre are those who talk or those who engage in … in … intimate behavior," he whispered much to the amusement of his wife. Elsie hooked her arm in the crook of his elbow and with her free hand patted his arm.

"Well, who knows. Perhaps, everyone will behave themselves. I trust that you will," she teased earning a scandalized glare from her husband.

Settled comfortably on the back row of seats and surrounded by villagers both young and old and a multitude of servants from neighboring estates, Charles and Elsie tucked in to watch the film. Charles had not been particularly keen on the content of the film, two men fighting over a woman, or on the star of the picture, John Gilbert. But, as Elsie had not retired fully yet and had the night off, he had chosen to indulge her. His normal plans for nights off generally called for a quiet evening at home in front of the fire or a quiet dinner at the pub.

The film was very romantic. A man falling in love with a woman he shouldn't have and then her falling in love with his best mate. Something overly familiar about this, Charles thought. But that whole sorry business with Grigg and Alice didn't sting anymore and he never gave it more than a fleeting thought. Anyway, Charles and Grigg had patched things up, he was with the woman he was meant to be with, and all was right with his world; except, he abhorred the male star of the film. But he loved his wife, and the film was her choice, so here he was sitting in a crowded theatre feigning some interest.

While Charles ignored most of the action on the screen, his wife seemed besotted with the leading man, what with his dark wavy hair, pencil thin mustache, and soulful eyes. Charles spent his time looking over the theatre, casting his gaze over the various people seated in the middle rows of seats; where he wished to sit until he and Elsie arrived too late to claim them. Who knew that every servant from Thirsk to Ripon and everywhere in between seemed to have the night off? Or so it appeared. Deciding that it would do no good to further brood on a matter he could not change, Charles turned to find his wife engrossed in the film and he smiled. If Elsie was happy that was all that mattered.

Until something else caught his eye.

Two young people engaged in a decidedly romantic entanglement of their own. Charles could not imagine why these two young people would engage in such an untoward display of affection within the full view of everyone. With a gruff huff of his own, Charles righted himself in his seat and faced forward, while his starry-eyed wife sat just that extra bit closer to him.

After a time, Charles felt Elsie pull her hand from the crook of his elbow where she'd had it tucked for most of the film and place it on his knee. At first he was a bit concerned that those sitting around them might be shocked to see a woman such as his wife, a woman of style and grace, of the highest moral character, committing such an intimate act in public. But he decided that the theatre was dark, that they were on the back row and that there really wasn't anything really untoward in the gesture. Certainly not like those two young people in the corner seats. What was it he'd heard his wife say once? Chewing the mouth off one another. No. This was his Elsie and she could never do anything so unladylike.

Yet …

It was only after his wife's hand began to softly skim up his thigh that he began to feel the heat in his face and other areas.

He hazarded a glance in her direction but her eyes were still trained on the silent, flickering images of John Gilbert and Greta Garbo. Her face gave nothing away as if she had no clue the effect that she was having on her husband.

"Elsie," Charles leaned over and whispered into her ear, "you must stop. We are in a crowded theatre. People will see." Much to his amazement and mortification, his words did not have the effect that he intended. Rather than stilling her hand, Elsie silently continued to watch the film, while tip-toeing her fingers up Charles's thigh until settling just below …

Charles breathed a sigh of relief but knew that his wife realized very well what she was doing. The effect that she was having on him was an excruciating kind of pleasure. If only they were at their cottage, he would kiss her senseless and then whisk her off to their bedroom.

For a moment or two Elsie was content to let things be, but then she leaned in and whispered into her husband's ear.

Charles's ears burned red hot. He could not believe Elsie's suggestion. Not that she hadn't suggested such things before, but never out of the privacy of their own home, never even out of the privacy of their bedroom. He looked around to make certain that no one was looking, that no one could have possibly heard what his lovely, proper, hot-blooded, Scottish girl had suggested. Charles nervously cleared his throat and glanced to his left and just as he looked to his right, his wife captured his lips in a blistering kiss. Elsie entangled her hands in his hair as she pulled him closer.

"Elsie! What has gotten into you?"

"Well, that's up to you Charlie," she breathed against his lips before kissing him again. Despite his reservations about who might see them or if anyone might have heard things Elsie had said, Charles could not stop kissing his wife. As they turned to fully face one another, his left hand found her waist, and his fingers flexed along her back as he pulled her closer. His right hand rested on her shoulder and then her neck as his thumb caressed her cheek and jaw.

It seemed that an age passed as they kissed: slow, deep lingering kisses, little nibbles, kisses to the cheek, nibbles to Charles's earlobes, suckles to Elsie's neck. All the while, the screen was flickering behind them and the theatre's organist playing a romantic serenade it seemed just for Charles and Elsie.

Charles hadn't known when he'd felt so thrillingly alive as his wife had made him feel at this moment. Of course, their wedding night had been a revelation, a great awakening. But that had been a private affair. That Elsie would be so bold as to kiss him in public like this and that he would kiss her in return was simply beyond his comprehension. It was as if he was caught up in some strange, bold, and reckless tidal wave and his wife was taking him with her.

"Oh Elsie, Elsie." Charles began to call her name over and over. He was desperate. He wanted her, his temptress of a wife.

"Elsie."

"Elsie …"

"Elsie … oh, my Elsie. I love you."

"Charlie. Charlie," Elsie called quietly.

"Elsie, I love you."

"I love you too, Charlie," Elsie laughed, squeezing her husband's hand firmly.

"Ouch! Why did you do that?" Charles had forgotten that his wife had quite a firm handshake. He supposed the firmness of her grip had come from years of cleaning, washing, and ironing as a housemaid.

"The film's over Charlie. I'm afraid that you've slept through most of it," Elsie pointed out matter-of-factly. "But you must have had a very nice dream."

Charles sat up very straight in his seat and nervously began pulling on his gloves in preparation to leave. His face flushed crimson, and he felt his stomach sink. He wondered how much he'd said ... or worse, done to embarrass them both.

"Why do you say that?" he sheepishly asked as he extended his hand to his wife, helping her from her seat.

"Oh, you had the most wonderfully contented smile," she answered, putting her worried husband's mind at ease.

She'd never tell him that he'd kissed his wife soundly on the lips and declared his love for her to all and sundry to witness.

A/N: Thanks for reading. The only way that Charles would ever misbehave in public would be if he was dreaming. LOL.

A/N: Flesh and the Devil is a movie that was filmed in 1926 and released in 1927 starring John Gilbert and Greta Garbo. The premise of the story is that Gilbert falls for a married woman Garbo and then goes to war. He asks his best friend to look after her. The best friend falls in love with her and she him. When John Gilbert's character returns from war, he realizes this and becomes very jealous. He challenges his best friend to a duel. On her way to stop them, Greta Garbo's character falls through some ice on a frozen river and drowns. The two men eventually reconcile, realizing that their friendship meant more to them than this contrary woman neither of them should have been with.