A/N: There is a writing challenge coming up later this spring for the Scarleteers Fan Fiction Writers that entails writing a very short story between 250-500 words. I had been trying to think of other ways to write about Eliza and William that would not necessarily cover the same ground as long stories with multiple chapters, and I had been toying with whether a poem or a short one-shot might be a possibility to keep things fresh while we await S2. When this opportunity arose, it seemed like a really fun idea, and so I've started to practice writing much shorter pieces - this, from a woman who loves words and wrote a wedding night chapter for them with 8000+ words! So here is the first of my practice runs - I liked it so much I decided to share it here on my page. I got down to 572 words - but then I didn't want to edit it further because I liked the way it turned out. Maybe with the next outing, I will get it down to 500 words on the nose!
Anyway, hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading and any kind input you may have!
It had been five long years since he'd last held her in his arms. Yet ever since he'd first kissed her, his fingers prickled from the imprint of her on his skin - the softness of her cheek as he'd gently wiped away her tears while she mourned the loss of her little dog, the warmth of her lips as his thumb slowly traced their outline, the curve of her spine at the small of her back where he'd placed the flat of his hand. Not a day had gone by when he didn't taste the sweetness of her mouth under his, eagerly returning his kiss until she'd recalled what was expected of her as a young lady of high moral character and slapped his face so hard his head had turned from the impact. She'd enjoyed their kiss as much as he had, her cheeks flushed, her pulse pounding in her throat when they'd broken apart, but she'd spent five years denying that truth and him.
He'd seen her since that fateful day when their relationship had changed irrevocably, had spoken to her coolly and politely whenever they came together, but he had not touched her - and it had taken every ounce of his resolve not to reach for her and pull her close.
The first three years after their torrid kiss, he'd tried, without success, to remove the texture and scent of her from his person - filling his nights with other women as if he might easily forget her and wash her away like an ablution. After each of his trysts, however, his hands had ached, and his heart had sunk deeper in its cage under the guilt and sorrow. He'd been unfair to those other women; they would never be Eliza Scarlet, and she was the only woman with the key to his heart. He had stopped trying then to find solace in another woman's bosom and shifted his focus to the task of rising through the ranks at Scotland Yard and bettering himself.
Here she was now, one and twenty years, being escorted to the Policeman's Ball by a newly-minted police constable, a lad who'd not known better than to ask Eliza to the ball. Every other Peeler knew how he burned for her, that she'd been marked for him alone and to give her a wide berth. This lad was still so wet behind the ears, so unaware of the politics and allegiances of the force he'd recently joined. William didn't care whether she'd come with him or not; he had waited too long to touch her again.
As he closed the distance between them, his eyes swept over her scarlet ball gown with its heart-shaped neckline, long sleeves and narrow waist. She'd tucked her golden hair up in an elegant chignon, and he smiled at the few wispy curls framing her face that would not behave, much like the woman herself.
She turned when she saw him approaching and smiled hesitantly as she greeted him, "William. How lovely to see you."
"Eliza, you look beautiful this evening." Taking her outstretched hand in his, he gently kissed the back of her fingers, the brush of their softness against his lips shooting a spark along his veins, awakening every dormant cell within him. Straightening, his fingers never releasing hers, his eyes intent upon her face, he cleared his throat and asked quietly, "May I have this dance?"
