None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. I've changed this scene slightly so it reads better. Trust me Pokimon, I've seen it a lot more than thirty times! Lol, I plan to add little in betweens instead of doing Movie stuff, because all of us have watched it, probably obsessively. 8-) thanks for all your reviews, you made it much easier to write parts I know inside out.
As Joseph moved her around the dance floor, Clarisse was sure she had stopped breathing. The music swirled around the room, floating in and out of her ears and guiding her across the dance floor. His words lingered softly in her head, " you've been wearing black too long". she hadn't been able to answer, frightened she might not be able too without crying.
His hand made gentle circles on her back as she danced, wrapped in his arms. The music was distantly beautiful, his breathing seeming just as loud in her ear and soft on her neck. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the way they seemed to talk to her was romantically compelling.
Joseph held her close, so close her perfume engulfed him - making him feel heady. Everything about her was intoxicating that he hardly noticed he was dancing, he felt as if he was floating. Her close proximity made him giddy, but in a good way. He was frightened he'd stopped breathing and side stepped into some parallel moment. He was so lost, he didn't realise the music had stopped, he soon did.
She smiled as he paused in the middle of the dance floor. The music had disappeared and she felt as if she was drowning in his oceanic eyes. She didn't speak, not quite trusting her voice yet. He smiled back, his eyes dancing with love. His lips descended on hers in a gentle kiss. She startled a moment, physical emotion something she had never quite got used to or trusted, even with him. But she surprised herself, giving into his encouragement and kisses.
She pulled away, her breathing a little uneven and rested her forehead against his, the only sound was their breathing in the echoing room and she was sure she could hear her own heart beating.
"I couldn't resist", he whispered throatily as he held onto her waist, " when it comes to you, I have little willpower".
"oh", she smiled, " perhaps we should walk, or drive. I don't wish to stand in this rather strange position forever, talking like this forever".
"we will be talking forever?", he questioned, letting go of her a little reluctantly.
"I do hope so".
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"you look wonderful", he smiled. She swayed out of her room, a pink suit clinging to her curves - immediately brightening her up.
"thank you", she whispered, taking his hand discreetly and squeezing his fingers, " I often dress up to do damage control". he laughed at her dry comment, kissing her on the nose as he motioned towards the limo.
"ahhh, it will be ok. I promise", he said softly.
"I wish she'd just accept it, it would make a damn sight more easier", Clarisse moaned, slipping on her sunglasses.
"would you accept that at 15 years old?", he questioned, then reminded himself to bang his head off a wall for his sheer stupidity and harshness.
"I had to", she said shortly.
"Clarisse-", he tried, but she cut him off sharply.
"it's fine Joseph. Just drive".
"I -", he tried again.
"just stop", she suddenly screamed, " I can't do this anymore!"
"you cant do what?", he asked heatedly, slamming the car door.
"nothing!", she said harshly, " just drive".
Clarisse sighed audibly as she registered the press gathering out side Grove high school, waiting for her. She could hear their incessant buzzing, their cameras clicking as they registered the presence of the Genovian branded limo pulling up. She took in a copious amount of air, sticking out her chest and straightened herself up - this she hadn't expected. Nor had she expected to be married off at 15 to the highest bidder for the prettiest virgin in Genovia - it sounded harsh but it was what it was and that she could not conceal.
Clarisse couldn't help feeling suddenly scared. This helplessness in general reminded her of her late husband, of how he used to get drunk - how he used to hurt her at least once a month. It was like torment - the waiting, the screaming, the clawing at utter helplessness. The queasy feeling still existed and she knew she couldn't just make everything ok. She could still often feel his hands on her, his breath on her neck - still hear his voice slowly chipping away at her once flamboyant character. She had only been 15 when it began, 27 when she admitted to Joseph and then it got worse - much worse. She was finding it harder to cope as each day went by, Amelia only serving to remind her of her son - of his painful absence, the presence of Joseph only serving to remind her of her love for him and how she would never be able to show it. Everything around her was closing in on her, making her claustrophobic and she needed to escape - just for one day. Swallowing hard, preventing the tears - she studied his reflection gazing steadily at her in the mirror. She showed no emotion - preferring to be cold when she felt most helpless - this was one of those points.
Mia slumped down in the chair, biting at her finger nails.
"listen Amelia", Clarisse smiled falsely, " it's not your fault, it was that monstrous Paolo - don't worry".
"yes, Amelia", Joseph smiled " Cla - your grandmother's right and I shall deal with him severely".
"yes", Clarisse confirmed, her dry toned aimed at an apologetic Joseph, " I have to go now, Joseph will look after you".
"but I have to drive you", he said, glaring at her, " you cannot go without me".
"I will be fine, Joseph!", she said hotly, " escort Amelia - I shall walk!". she smiled gently at Mia, and then turned burning eyes on Joseph walked out the door. He just stared at her back, confusion reigning over him. He wasn't sure what had caused her sudden change of personality - of course he had an idea.
She needed to escape from everything and he knew Rupert was still hanging over her - especially now she felt as if she was controlling Amelia much in the same way Rupert had tried to control his sons. He let out a sigh, and turning to Amelia gave her a rueful smile, she just shot him a perplexed look.
"come on Joe", she sighed, standing up, " I need to get some air. He smiled at that, it reminded him of her - of her escapisms. He knew it couldn't all get better right away and he'd half been expecting this, he just wished it didn't have to happen to her this way.
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The rain sprinkled gently from the sky, making for a dreary afternoon. Joseph smiled as he took a shot, umbrella in one hand, basket ball in the other.
"Joe?", Mia questioned, looking up at him.
"Miss Mia?", he smiled, ceasing bouncing the ball and sitting down beside her on the soggy bench.
"what was up with grandma?", she question directly. Joe smiled a little.
"I don't know", he lied, bouncing the ball slightly.
"can I order you to tell me?", she said flatly.
"yes", he laughed, " but I don't think you would".
"no you're right", she smiled, propping the umbrella under her chin, " but she was upset".
"I know", he said regretfully, wondering where she was just now.
"I've never seen her emotional before", Mia commented, smiling slightly, " I really want to get to know her but she's just so cold, so unfeeling".
"no, she's not", Joseph corrected hotly, his eyes flaring with a little anger, " and if she comes across that way it is not her fault".
"oh", Mia said, a little cut, " who's fault is it?"
"the people who made her that way, the people who trapped her", he sighed, standing up, " we should go now". Mia looked up at him, utterly confused. Joseph clearly knew more about her grandmother than he let on and she could see pain clouding his crystalline eyes.
"don't ask again princess, it's a topic best left untouched", he resolved, motioning towards the stairs. She nodded, noticing how the pain seemed to be increasing, with every step he took - with every memory that resurfaced in his already exhausted head.
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Clarisse walked along in the soft rain, sunglasses on her head, umbrella in her hand. She didn't care if they worried about her, she just needed to be free for a little while - not be confined to their monstrous cage.
She heaved the door of the café open, scanning it to see if it was still the same. It was, the tables still had glass tops and little bowls of sugar resting on the cheque cloth covers. The smell of coffee ad cakes still hung on the air - it hadn't changed, but other things most certainly had. She quietly sat down but couldn't bear being there - it was too much. As soon as she sat down, she stood up again and rushed out the door into the murky, grey day. The tears began to stream down her face uncontrollably, making the sense of helplessness increase even more. God she missed her little boy, missed the relationships that had been thrown away by her sudden marriage, detested the years of torment she had endured for duty and now, now she could hardly breath without smelling Philippe's blood or sleep without Rupert invading her dreams, could hardly look at her beloved Joseph without feeling a stab of guilt.
It was raining heavy now, soaking through her suit even with the umbrella propped above her. The thunder crashed, creating white noise in her ears - making coherent thought impossible. She knew she had to return, return to the prying media, to the endless aristocracy that enslaved her endlessly.
Tears still streaming down her face, she flagged down a taxi with an elegantly gloved hand and fumbled with the door weakly. As she slid into the mouldy smelling car, she couldn't drown out the rushing in her ears.
The taxi driver studied her in the mirror, his face showing a little concern for the woman who's clearly been crying.
"hey, lady. You all right?", he questioned, cracking his well chewed gum at intervals.
"yes", she whispered meekly, avoiding looking at him with her puffy eyes, " the Genovian consulate please". he smiled slightly, a questioning look on his face.
"don't I know you from somewhere?", he questioned, turning up the hill to the consulate. She looked away from the window, tears still streaming down her face. She didn't care if he knew her, in fact that all seemed immaterial.
"no, I'm obsolete", she lied, wiping the tears with the cuff of her black coat.
"right", he said, unconvinced, " well we're here", he continued, stopping outside the consulate.
"thank you", she smiled, fumbling in her handbag. She grasped the first bill she could find - $100.
"keep the change", she said mildly, swinging her legs over the car. He chocked when he seen it, deciding it was a lucky day he made up not to argue, instead he watched her run through the open gates to the main door. A man stood in the entrance, he was dressed completely in black and his head was bald. His eyes danced angrily but his face seemed to be pasted with relief. She stopped in front of him, her eyes begging him somewhat - as if for some forgiveness. He smiled gently, and took her in his arms, stroking his hands through her wet hair. She clung to him as if he was going to disappear into thin air, her head pressed tightly to his chest. The taxi driver smiled to himself, he liked to see couples make it through and from the looks on both their faces - this couple had had a rough time.
What do you think, please R&R.
I'm not sure if I should end it here, what do you think - let me know.
Yours,
M