I will twist today’s daily prompt a bit, to make it more interesting. I will write it from my protagonist’s point of view.
A.’s mother was a woman of a great beauty and charm. She was an elegant and imposing lady even when she merely a young girl, standing on the threshold of adulthood. She had a fair share of suitors but the one she was to join in a holy union was already handpicked for her by her father. She was allowed to be entertained by flocking, young handsome boys but to never engage into anything serious or scandalous. After all she was already promised to someone.
When one stops looking and is indifferent to faith, that’s when the destiny strikes.
That memorable night she was attending a charity ball. It was an event same as many before, people chatting, mingling and sharing mindless talk with each other. A usual boring night in which A.’s mother had to participate. By now she has seen so many similar balls that she lost interest in them. They all looked the same to her.
Except this time, she met him. A man that would finally make her heart beat faster. A man that would stir her from head to toe. She noticed him much later then he did her. She caught him watching her, like a hunter watches its prey. She thought that he was extremely rude, a scoundrel really. But still she kept glancing in his direction. Her attention was going back to him over and over. He was dressed in finest clothes. His demeanor demanded attention, captivating people in that effortless way, many man could only dream of. She imagines he would look good even in rags. He was observing her, watching her every move. Every time he caught her gaze he smirked. It unnerved her. Who did he think he was? He was a handsome rogue that she had to admit. Many women shared her thoughts it was obvious. There were plenty of females surrounding him, bating eyelashes and laughing flirtatiously.
He was tall and dark, a striking man with piercing light brown, nearly yellow eyes. His hair was neatly trimmed, curling around the ears with only a few unruly strands. His lips looked like they were made for giving breathtaking kisses, but instead they were curved in that irritating smirk. His long and slender fingers were closed on a glass of whiskey. She hated the vile drink, preferring sophisticated wine instead. Maybe he was a pianist? He definitely was a heartbreaker and a man she should avoid. But why was it that she was so drawn to him. What made him so compelling, so irresistible to her, a girl from good house. A girl promised to another man.
And yet that same night, under a birch tree, in the garden A.’s mother allowed that handsome devil to capture her lips in a fiery union and steal her very first kiss. The men left her yearning for more and little did she know that the ache would not be fulfilled. Not until she met him again. But that is an entirely different story.