Sparkling Diamonds

I wanted to die. It was all too much.

I held him with my face pressed into his chest but not so much that it ruined his tuxedo. He was dressed immaculately, like something out of a 1920's novel. A white scarf hung loosely around his neck; a bow tie in place against bright white shirt and white shirt. A red rose stuck out of his black jacket pocket. I rested my hand upon his chest, feeling the sharp rise and fall of his breathes.

He held me tight, around my waist, and buried his nose into my hair. His tight grip never wanted to let go. I could tell in the way that he held me, he never, ever wanted to let me go again. He had truly missed me as much as I missed him. At least, that's what I gathered from those few moments. He kissed the top of my head and turned me towards him. My dress swooshed between us.

Still holding my hand, he separated us slightly so that he could see the dress that I wore. I felt his eyes searching every inch of my body, the pressure of his fingers showing how much strain seeing me was putting on him. It was clear, that if he had a choice, he would have left the party with me in tow. But he didn't have a choice. He needed to be here, and I needed to be beside him. I squeezed his hand, encouraging him to hold on for a few hours longer before we returned back to the suite.

I curtsied deeply, my ball gown fanning around me. I dropped my head with a curt nod before feeling the pressure of his hand returning me to my feet. He bowed, stiffly from the waist, and led my arm through his as he took me to the dance floor. Those around us moved as we passed, clearing a space like we were royalty. The soft beat of the music the band played lead us into a waltz.

My arms slipped over his as my hand rested upon his shoulder. I felt his hand upon the firm of my back as his other hand clasped mine. With a raised eyebrow, he pushed forward and lead me into a dance that I had never been taught. James and I had never had a wedding dance, and I didn't even have a father daughter dance. My wedding...that wedding, was a small one that was simply done without the extravagance. This was a whole new experience that Benedict was leading me in and he lead me well. He was an actor, of course, and had been trained in these kinds of things unlike myself.

I felt his hand upon the small of my back supporting me as we moved about the dance floor. He never missed a beat as we swooped around, my dress almost tripping me up once or twice but he never failed in supporting me.

When the music died down and the song finished, Benedict stopped in the middle of the room and knelt down upon one knee. He took my left hand and kissed my ring finger. It was his way of saying that he was being truthful to me. That all the rumours were false. Why did I ever doubt his desire to leave me? This one action, and the look that followed, confirmed that. I blushed at the action and ducked my head.

He was soon upon his feet once more as the crowd began to fill the dance floor once more. He was close to me, his fingers knocking up my chin and into a kiss. It was light and lingering for only a second but his finger remained underneath my chin to prevent me from shying away from his passion. Benedict pulled away and there was a soft mark of red lipstick left upon those luscious lips of his. I smiled and licked my finger, running them over his lips and removing the red stain. I could see the desire blossoming in his features, in his stance, and drew him into a quick hug to hide his emotions. He was grateful for it in how he returned my hug, never wanting to let go.

Benedict then led me to the side of the room where he picked up two glasses of champagne from the passing Waiter and handed one to me. We clinked glasses and I took a sip, careful of how much my lipstick stained.

"I still can't believe you're here," he said softly. "Are you real?"

I gave him a smile as I responded, "It took all I had."

"Why didn't you ask--"

"It would have ruined the surprise."

"What surprise?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

We were skin on skin again in a matter of seconds. He seemed to tower over me, despite how my heels levelled us out. I knew that all he wanted to know was what I was planning but his stance reminded me too much of James. It scared me and I pulled away from him. Closing my eyes and gripping onto my Champagne glass, I took a deep breath. I could feel him staring into the back of my shoulder blades, waiting kindly for an answer. I wasn't sure if he was truly sorry for what had just happened but I couldn't blame it on him. It was my own fault for still letting James plague my mind. I would be leading a hopefully happy life with Benedict but my past still clung onto me no matter how hard I tried to shake it.

I drained the champagne glass and rested it upon one of the tables nearby. I returned to Benedict who waited patiently where I had left him. His blue eyes were pure and his champagne glass still frosted in his encompassing hands.

"I'm sorry," I said, playing with my fingers.

"No, it should be me who is sorry," he replied.

"No, Ben," I said sternly. He stopped at that and listened. "You don't understand. I am full of baggage that I can't get rid of and I am almost drowning in it. During these past few weeks leading up to me coming here have been the most painful and I only wish I had you there to help me through that pain but what I realised was that I have to get through this myself and not rely on someone else to get rid of them for me. You can't help that sometimes your actions might reflect some actions that James might have had but that's something that I have to deal with. Neither of us are perfect but your the closes thing to perfect that I will ever have in my life so I'm just going to have to deal with it."

I watched his bottom lip quiver as he looked away, trying to conceal his tears. I stepped into him, disposed of the glass of champagne to a passing guest and wiped away his tears. If he was going to be there for me, I had to be there for him. I was about to lean in to kiss him but an announcement stopped me from doing so. I was glad it had because if I had kissed him in that moment, who knows what it would have lead to.

I drew his arms around my waist and rested my hands upon his arms. I relaxed back into his chest and felt his cheek press into mine. I felt he was about to say something but was silenced along with the rest of the crowd.

Upon the stairs that I had entered the ballroom through stood, from what I assumed, was the host of the party. He wasn't anyone I recognised, but then again, I wasn't the type of person that would keep up with any sort of popular social personalities. I met those who I worked with and treated them as if I was another person because that's what celebrities are, right? People with particular talents that have been recognised by the general public and pushed into a social light that they may or may not be comfortable with. But I guess, now especially, I would have to start learning names of those faces I saw, but still treating them with the respect they may or may not deserve depending on their personality.

He introduced himself as George Clooney, a name that I recognised but a face that I had never met. I did admire some of his work, that I had seen him in, of course. He thanked everyone for attending the party that night and gave all credit for the decorations to his partner, whom I didn't catch the name of.

"Don't worry, it changes often enough," laughed a Guest who stood next to me. I gave them a smile in return.

George continued on to say that the fire works would begin within the hour and for everyone to drink up and to have a good time. It was a night to be a carefree spirit and not worrying about trying to land that next film role that could secure the financials for the next year. There was a soft chuckling amongst the crowd as he moved down the stairs and the guests dispersed throughout the room once more.

before I could even break away from Ben, and slipped perfectly to his side with my arm around my back and his on the small of mine, George had joined us where we stood. He extended his hand to Benedict and shook it with a smile. When he turned to me, I cowered into Benedict's embrace and George gave me a warm smile. I opened up a little, but still remained shy. Curse my personality.

"And what's your name, beautiful?" George said, trying to catch my eye.

Benedict shot him a warning glance before he spoke, "This is my fiance, Diana."

"George," he said, extending his hand towards me. I was squeezed by Benedict's arm around me and I was forced to extend my hand. I gave him a smile, hoping that I would be left in peace, but alas, I wasn't. We dropped our hands and he kept my eyes on me. "You seem quiet for a man like Ben."

"Believe me," Benedict said. "When she warms up to you, she is the friendliest person I know. She's just been through a lot recently."

"Ah," George replied. "Well, would you mind satisfying my curiosity and tell me what you do?"

I took a while before I spoke, "I'm a Production Designer, but I like to deal with costumes more then anything else."

"I can tell," George said, his eyes wondering over my dress. "You busy at the moment? Got any contacts you're tied to?"

"Not at the moment," I said. "Was going to take a break."

"This is the kind of industry where you can't do that sort of thing," George commented, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card. He handed it to me and I took it gingerly. "After Monument's Men, I'm going to start working on another film that I would love for you to be involved in." George's eyes flickered to Benedict. "Your partner, too."

"Happy to oblige," Benedict said.

"You have a card so I can get in contact with you?" George said to me and I was forced to dive for my phone in the folds of my dress. I pulled back the cover of my phone to find a secret stash of belongings that I hid behind the covers. I pulled out one of the few business cards that I had in there and handed it over to George. He studied the card, flipping it over in his fingers before turning his attentions back to us. "I'll be in contact. Remind me if I forget."

With a nod, he disappears back into the crowd and I was finally left alone with Benedict. I stared at the card that George had given me and looked blankly at it. All that hope that I would be leaving the industry to support Benedict in his endeavours evaporated into thin air. I was glad that I had separated myself from a contract with the BBC because it gave me more time to work closely with George on his next film.

Benedict turned me around so that we were facing each other and I smiled, motioning towards the card. I said, "I have George Clooney's card!"

"So you do know who he is," Benedict laughed.

"One of the few that I actually know," I replied as I pocked the card in between my mobile and it's case.

"I'm so glad that you're here," he said, gripping my hips and drawing me into him.

"Me too," I said. "But if you love me know, you should just wait until later."

"Why can't you just tell me," he said, kissing me lightly. "Show me, now."

"Because you wouldn't get to see it in its full effect and it would be embarrassing in front of all these people," I cried, kissing him again and smearing more of my red lipstick upon his lips.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him in for another full kiss, not even caring about the lipstick this time. All I cared about was his lips pressing against mine the feeling of his hands pulling me into an emotion I was trying to lock away for later after the fire works. I groaned inwardly and pushed myself away from him. I rested my hands upon his cheeks and giggled at the blood spattering mess that I had left upon his face. I tried to wipe as much of the lipstick away as I could and drew him across the ballroom towards the window where the majority of the Guests had started to gather.

I tried to get as close to the window as I could and settled for the second from the front. Benedict stood beside me and waited eagerly along with the rest of the crowd of New York for the fireworks to begin. The room went silent and the lights dimmed. Over the loudspeaker, the lead singer of the band began to count down...

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two, one...

Benedict wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed me upon the cheek as the fire works burst into the sky. My eyes widened in awe at the colours of the explosions that I saw in the sky. I hugged Benedict while keeping my eyes upon the fire works, the guests at the party cheering. And for the first time in a long time, or ever, I felt joy. I felt peace. I felt that I was meant to be there with Benedict and there was no questions about it.