Calm Before the Storm

Spin out. Stop. Spin in. Stop.

The room is bright.

I look at my partner's face. Clearly feeling out of place, but she was trying anyway.

The violent, excited music slows. Slows to the calm that starlight can bring.

She is looking more comfortable now. Both hands move to rest on my waist. Mine shift to her shoulders.

She still looks uncomfortable. I stare straight at her so I can catch her gaze. Her eyes flicker up from the ground and I smile as warmly as I can. She blushes and rests her head on my shoulder, embarrassed, but at least she has relaxed. I rest my head on hers. She tenses up again, but only a little, which is an improvement.

"You look great," she mumbles into my shoulder. She has always been good at that suave manner of speaking when she is with me. She's always quiet and shy when we are around people who will be observing us. Always trying to pick out her faults. To give my parents reason to separate us.

A few have caught her unaware and have taken the matter to my parents. She acts quiet, fearful, and I deny her boldness.

The torches are put out. The room is down to mere candlelight.  A violin solo. Now she would woo the crowd. A single instrument. One melody to follow. Solos she could do. She writes many herself; now she knows how to move.

She relaxed again.

Her dancing became more confident.

I grinned. Her head was still on my shoulder, her face hidden from all by a curtain of dark hair. I could feel her smile start small, then it became big, wild, free. This was the woman I knew.

The violin picked up, became a desperate crying sound. Beautiful, painful, ready to fight.

Her head came off my shoulder she looked me straight in the eyes. I stared straight back. Her face was stoic. She knew I felt her smile. She knew I knew what she was doing. I followed her lead and flowed with her movement.

We danced with the desperately lonely violin. Quick jerky movements, anger, sadness, possession. She can be amazing when she tries.

I could tell the song was nearing its end, it was crying louder, with even more mourn.

We danced faster. Sometimes she reminds me of the calm before the storm. She can be the storm too sometimes.

The violin halted abruptly. The mourning song had died.

The lights went off. We kissed quickly in the privacy of the dark.

The lights went back on. Applause.

I was grinning. She still looked like the calm.

We left. I didn't want to be there any longer, and, from the look of it, she hadn't wanted to be there from the start. Fancy parties, dancing with a certain style, just not her thing.

We went to our stargazing spot on a green hill.

I sat down, laid down.

She sat next to me grinning wildly at the stars. She could never be free around others so she was very expressive when it was just us.

A breeze blew. She untied her hair and closed her eyes as the wind caressed it and ruffled it.

I closed my eyes too.

The breeze stopped.

What little light I could tell existed behind my eyelids disappeared.

I opened my eyes to a grinning face framed with wild, dark hair.

She moved her mouth closer to mine.

Her kiss was like the first muted rumble of the storm.

"Shouldn't we be heading back? There'll be all kinds of talk if we come back late… With hair as messy as yours."

I went to get up, she held me where I was.

"No. They shouldn't have anything but our dance to talk about," she said this quietly, the wild, wolfish grin had gone and been replaced by sad confused looking face.

"Maybe you won't fool them this time."

"Fool? I would never do such a thing my Princess," a humble voice.

"Very well then Miss. Carry on."

The grin returned. She kissed my neck and her mane tickled my face.

She whispered, "I love you."

I didn't need to say anything back, I told her everyday. She, only on certain occasions. But there was one thing she says all the time.

She growled, "You're mine."

"Forever and always."

Another kiss. The last quiet rumble.

She bit my skin.

Then came the storm.