Sway
For the lovely Bella.
Not many people can pull off the letterbox-red look, but Shawnee Smith is lucky enough to be blessed with the ability to do so. She seems the epitome of elegance as she glides into bar, her head held, swan-like, as she graciously accepts the fact that all eyes have turned to look at her.
She takes her seat at the bar, sipping her drink, feeling the bubbles slip easily down her throat and leaving just the faintest echo of a tingle at the back as she idly taps her fingers in expectation along the marble surface.
Slowly, one by one, the guests filter out, but still Shawnee sits alone, isolated in the glare of man’s vain attempts to recreate the sun in an interior setting. Finally, it’s just her and the barman, sitting in the sounds of silence.
“I’m going to lock up now. You can stay here, but no more drinks. Is that okay?”
“May I just take one more, for my friend?”
The barman obliges, filling an identical glass to hers with the same bright liquid before sweeping a shutter across to shield the uniform rows of bottles from her view.
She’s not going to come.
And so, defeated, Shawnee raises the glass to her lips, because there’s no reason not to waste a perfectly good drink.
“I think that’s my drink you’ve got there.”
She turns round, and before she can take anything else in, Bella’s lips are on hers and her hands are at her neck.
A small laugh escapes Bella’s lips as they break apart, their noses still just touching.
“You’ve got lipstick there.” Shawnee doesn’t flinch when Bella leans over and runs her finger along her lip line, removing the memories of their embrace. “There,” she proclaims, stepping backward, like an artist surveying his lasted masterpiece, “much better.”
“I thought you weren’t going to come.”
Those are the only words Shawnee can say. She’s slightly gobsmacked at what she can see; for once, a girl has taken her breath away. Blue really brought out the colour of Bella’s eyes, which now twinkle as if they had absorbed the whole of the night sky and it was the stars winking back at her.
“Hey, come here.” The order is delivered under a soft hiss of breath.
Shawnee stands up, and Bella takes her hand, while placing the other around her waist, tenderly balanced on her hip. Shawnee’s instinctively follows suit.
And in the moonlight, they begin to sway. Shawnee leans her head onto Bella’s shoulder and can hear her blood pulsing through her body, beating away the moments they spend together. They hold each other, rotating gently between tables and chairs, navigating their way to the centre of each other’s hearts, to the door that only they knew how to unlock.
She takes her seat at the bar, sipping her drink, feeling the bubbles slip easily down her throat and leaving just the faintest echo of a tingle at the back as she idly taps her fingers in expectation along the marble surface.
Slowly, one by one, the guests filter out, but still Shawnee sits alone, isolated in the glare of man’s vain attempts to recreate the sun in an interior setting. Finally, it’s just her and the barman, sitting in the sounds of silence.
“I’m going to lock up now. You can stay here, but no more drinks. Is that okay?”
“May I just take one more, for my friend?”
The barman obliges, filling an identical glass to hers with the same bright liquid before sweeping a shutter across to shield the uniform rows of bottles from her view.
She’s not going to come.
And so, defeated, Shawnee raises the glass to her lips, because there’s no reason not to waste a perfectly good drink.
“I think that’s my drink you’ve got there.”
She turns round, and before she can take anything else in, Bella’s lips are on hers and her hands are at her neck.
A small laugh escapes Bella’s lips as they break apart, their noses still just touching.
“You’ve got lipstick there.” Shawnee doesn’t flinch when Bella leans over and runs her finger along her lip line, removing the memories of their embrace. “There,” she proclaims, stepping backward, like an artist surveying his lasted masterpiece, “much better.”
“I thought you weren’t going to come.”
Those are the only words Shawnee can say. She’s slightly gobsmacked at what she can see; for once, a girl has taken her breath away. Blue really brought out the colour of Bella’s eyes, which now twinkle as if they had absorbed the whole of the night sky and it was the stars winking back at her.
“Hey, come here.” The order is delivered under a soft hiss of breath.
Shawnee stands up, and Bella takes her hand, while placing the other around her waist, tenderly balanced on her hip. Shawnee’s instinctively follows suit.
And in the moonlight, they begin to sway. Shawnee leans her head onto Bella’s shoulder and can hear her blood pulsing through her body, beating away the moments they spend together. They hold each other, rotating gently between tables and chairs, navigating their way to the centre of each other’s hearts, to the door that only they knew how to unlock.