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"He was the epitome of beauty, his eyes crystal clear, his hair darker than the night sky. His jaw perfectly sculpted. He stood there wearing white which made him seem like an angel. He asks you to join him in a dance, what were your thoughts when you set your eyes on him, what did you feel? Was your heart racing? Were you reluctant? Did you accept his dance offer or was there something in your heart that made you feel uneasy? How did it all end? Was he truly an angel? Or the devil alluring you towards him?" Write a short prose on the given situation, it could be simple sweet romance or take a dreadful turn of horror. Let your imagination run wild. Tag me so I could fall in love with your love story too~"
Cover image for post Tide, by nfaulk6
Profile avatar image for nfaulk6
nfaulk6

Tide

He was the epitome of beauty; his cerulean eyes gleaming like sapphires that bore into my very soul, matching the indigo of my gown. I fidgeted against the lacy sweetheart neckline that framed my broad shoulders nicely and gave me a bit more cleavage than I actually had. I bit my bottom lip: my go-to nervous tic.

Around the ballroom, couples swirled in time to the rise and lilt of the orchestra's waltz. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him--clad in white like an angel with perfect posture to match his celestial presence--as I stood against the wall by the door, ready to exit at the first inkling of discomfort. 

When he caught my eye, I quickly looked away, focusing on an imaginary spot on the gleaming wood floor and gnawing on my lip even more. I heard footsteps approaching and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bottom of white tuxedo pants with matching dress shoes. I knew it was him before I raised my gaze to see this incredible specimen before me. Quite tall with piercing blue eyes, dark wavy hair perfectly coiffed, Adonis-like physique, and a warm smile of straight and impossibly white teeth to match his tuxedo.

"May I have this dance, lovely miss?" he asked in a deeply sensual voice.

My thoughts were racing as if I were drunk, yet I hadn't had a drop. My head swirled, and my throat was dry. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I was alternatingly clenching and releasing my hands, now sweaty with anxiety. I swallowed--no, gulped--cleared my throat, and said the first thing that came into my mind. "How do you get your clothes so white? Bleach?"

He chuckled. Mortified, I turn and ran out the door.

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