The was film on everything, he felt. His eyes, joints of his bones, his soul. Residue of a misspent night. The shower hadn't been able to wear away the subtle smell of the hot tub. Dry hands, sore finger tips.
The ballroom was a garden of people varying from the most tightly trimmed trees to unseemingly, unkept shrubs. Moving in pace to the ringing of hundreds of glasses, the sound of the disjointed gentle collisions of various pieces of silver.
He saw her approaching immediately, a stormcloud in a sundress.
The dark lengths of her hair fell amongst her bared shoulders in a heavy down pour.
At arms length she stopped, defensive posturing, her eyes were lovely and hard to read.
He felt the room shimmer, or shift just a bit, to the right, or perhaps it was just his imagination, the feeling of a shifting, a slipping away.
She had a face that could clear the air.
- I'm never going to see you again am I?- she asked. He smiled at the sweetness of the question.
- It's unlikely- he didn't lie, it seemed it unfaithful to lie to the sad music of her voice.
- Then why did you kiss me last night?- No tremble of contained anger, just a faint confusion.
- Because I wanted to know- He looked down into her eyes, and she kept his gaze.
- Know what?-
- What can only be known by kissing someone-
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