fanfic: so she dances (chapter 1 of 1); rated: t
The benefit had been over for hours when she slowly made her way back into the ballroom. They had literally raised millions for the hospital's Cancer Research Center and there hadn't been a person in the room that hadn't told her how proud they were of her for organizing the party. She didn't understand why they had made such a big deal out of it. It was a typical dinner and dancing event, complete with overpriced bottles of champagne and a string quartet. Not unlike any other even that she had planned in her lifetime, although she knew why they pretended otherwise.
It was her first public appearance without him.
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought.
Twenty-six was definitely not the age she thought she'd be when she became a widow. Actually she didn't think she would become a widow at all. With her heath and his luck of always landing on his feet no matter the fall, she would have thought that she would have been the one to go first.
He had laughed when she had told him that.
A bitter smile came to her lips when she turned to face the wall of windows on the other side of the ballroom. The space had truly been a dream come true when the coordinator had shown her pictures. She had gushed to her best friend for hours after about window treatments and the chandelier. Not once did she stop and think about what he would have said if he had been there to hear her.
What she wouldn't have given now to hear his thoughts.
A waltz for the girl out of reach
She lifts her hands up to the sky
She moves with the music
The song is her lover
The melody's making her cry
The melody started simply. It was most likely all in her head but she could pretend that there was still an orchestra in the corner of the room. That it was a few hours earlier and that the empty space she was in now was filled with dancing couples and overflowing flutes and twinkling lights overhead. It wasn't that much of a stretch if she closed her eyes. After all, she was still in her vintage Vera Wang with her hair expertly piled on top of her head. She'd ditched her shoes the second that the last person was out the door.
She took a step to the door, eyes still closed, and turned slightly. She had learned to waltz on a whim; pregnant with their oldest, she had gotten restless and demanded that they take a class together. Cooking had been out of the question, even pregnant she had zero tolerance for anything in the kitchen when there wasn't a present holiday. She had flat out refused to join the country club's book club on principle; so all that had really been left was dancing. When the question came up ballroom or line dancing, she's beaten him for even thinking of the latter.
One step and then another, and she twirled just because, lifting her arms to the standard position. Her mind wiped clean, and she just kept moving. Because stopping meant thinking; and she couldn't have any more of that tonight.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
this romance is
From afar calling me silently
They had run in the same social circle all of their lives, and it was apparent from the start that they couldn't be more different. She was Upper East Side Royalty, an old money socialite, with an iron fist trapped in a velvet glove, and he was the only son of a self-made millionaire and a harpy social climber, with morals as loose as his tongue. The only thing they had in common was private schools and an endless supply of green…almost.
A smile blossomed against the paleness of her lips as she turns again, counting her steps.
If someone had told her that they would have been married and that she would have given birth to two of the most beautiful children ever she would have laughed them out of the room. But that was what had happened. They had survived together, over any obstacles; for each other.
They had been together for nine years.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Accidents happened all the time in the town they both grew up in. It was Murphy's Law run amuck and there wasn't really anything that they could do about it. But when she heard that the plane carrying her husband and members of his advertising team had gone down somewhere in the North Atlantic, she had thought that he would be rescued and returned to her with a few broken bones and a new scar.
When they found his body, she hadn't been there. Her father-in-law identified the body and had it sent back for the funeral. He and his wife had taken care of all of the things that she probably should have been expected to do.
Then again, when you abandon your children and flee from your penthouse to trap yourself in the sanctuary of your Hampton home for a week upon hearing the news, your family doesn't think you can handle much more then showing up.
Her step faltered as she remembered the funeral, the bright colors and the soft speeches. Through the entire thing she expected him to return. The body in the casket couldn't truly be his. She knew it was impossible, but what the hell, it wasn't like that sort of thing had never happened before.
A waltz for the chance I should take
but how will I know where to start?
She's spinning between constellations and dreams
her rhythm is my beating heart
He smiled at the picture that she made in the center of the ballroom in her gown of deep crimson and with her chocolate curls falling from their pins. Her feet glided across the marble with a grace that she never claimed to possess.
Even with tearstained cheeks and mascara blotches on the corner of her eyes, she never looked more beautiful to him.
She was a picture, his wife was.
It was a shame that she wouldn't hear him when he told her.
From what he was told, he was lucky to get this brief moment to see her.
She spun in a circle, clockwise, then paused mid-step and reversed, pulling her hands up to point to the ceiling. Her step faltered again and he had to resist the urge to reach out to her. Always independent, that one. She probably wouldn't have taken his hand if he were real. That was why he loved her so much.
He moved further into the room and allowed a bittersweet smile to play against his lips. If this was to be the last time he saw her, then he would be damned if he wasn't going to make the most out of it. He was going to remember everything.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
He had loved her since the very first moment he'd seen her, two big eyes and a red ribbon in her hair. She presented herself to him and demanded that they be friends. She had gotten him out of more trouble then he had been able to find for himself at such a young age. And he told her time and again that she was more trouble then she was worth.
But she was worth everything to him.
They'd been married in winter. A fitting season if anyone really knew them.
She'd complained for days after that she'd been freezing in her custom made gown.
Their first child had followed just eighteen months after.
He could still remember the way the hospital room smelled like her vanilla and jasmine perfume even through labor. He swore for weeks that even his daughter knew the scent. The child had stopped crying as soon as they slid her into her mother's arms.
Their second had made an appearance almost three years later.
His heart broke when the realization hit him that he wouldn't be there for anymore of the milestones that come with life. He wouldn't watch them in their first dance recital, and he couldn't meet their first boyfriends with his stepbrother and a glass of Scotch. He wouldn't be there to be asked for his little girl's hand in marriage, and it would fall to someone else to tell her how beautiful she was before their trip down the aisle.
It was all up to her now.
And that killed him all over again.
Always the strong one.
I can't keep on watching forever
I give up this view just to tell her
All of the help had been sent home hours before, to return to clean in the morning, and she had the entire place to herself until she decided to head to her own home. There was no way possible that there could be someone in the room with her.
She stopped when she heard his voice.
"May I have this dance?"
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she turned and smiled at the apparition in front of her. There was a split second when she had actually thought to close her eyes and will him away. That this night would be so much easier if he hadn't - wasn't there.
She didn't speak, just reached out her hand to take his.
He pulled her close and dropped his other hand to her waist. They didn't blink as they began to glide, him taking the lead, across the dance floor. She had missed the way his body held her firmly, but with the utmost care. He never allowed her to forget that she was one of the most precious things in the world to him.
A tear slid from her eyes as she bit back a sob.
This was nothing more then a good-bye.
When I close my eyes I can see
The spotlights are bright on you and me
We've got the floor
And you're in my arms
How could I ask for more?
They didn't stop. They couldn't. Neither one really knew how many trips around the room they had taken, until her head lurched and she realized that they were stopping. The clock at the bank across the street struck two and she lowered her eyes away from his. She wouldn't allow him to watch her cry.
That wasn't the last memory she wanted for them.
Her grip on his hand tightened and she took a step back, taking him with her. Then she turned and started the steps again, this time with his hands planted firmly on her waist and her back to his chest.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
this romance is
From afar calling me silently
He smelled of promises of forever. With a splash of the Old Spice she had gotten him for Father's Day. The bottle was still on their dresser.
The music in her mind started to fade their second turn around the room, and he brought her to another stop in front of the window. She didn't have to look up to know she would be alone.
But she could feel his lips brush against the shell of her ear and his breath on her skin.
"I love you."
Her breath caught in the back of her throat even as her fist dug into her lips.
In nine months she had tried to learn to put the pieces together. And in nine minutes she had been torn apart again.
His hand slid from her waist and she sunk to the floor.
I can't keep on watching forever
And I'm giving up this view just to tell her
It was her first public appearance without him.
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought.
Twenty-six was definitely not the age she thought she'd be when she became a widow. Actually she didn't think she would become a widow at all. With her heath and his luck of always landing on his feet no matter the fall, she would have thought that she would have been the one to go first.
He had laughed when she had told him that.
A bitter smile came to her lips when she turned to face the wall of windows on the other side of the ballroom. The space had truly been a dream come true when the coordinator had shown her pictures. She had gushed to her best friend for hours after about window treatments and the chandelier. Not once did she stop and think about what he would have said if he had been there to hear her.
What she wouldn't have given now to hear his thoughts.
A waltz for the girl out of reach
She lifts her hands up to the sky
She moves with the music
The song is her lover
The melody's making her cry
The melody started simply. It was most likely all in her head but she could pretend that there was still an orchestra in the corner of the room. That it was a few hours earlier and that the empty space she was in now was filled with dancing couples and overflowing flutes and twinkling lights overhead. It wasn't that much of a stretch if she closed her eyes. After all, she was still in her vintage Vera Wang with her hair expertly piled on top of her head. She'd ditched her shoes the second that the last person was out the door.
She took a step to the door, eyes still closed, and turned slightly. She had learned to waltz on a whim; pregnant with their oldest, she had gotten restless and demanded that they take a class together. Cooking had been out of the question, even pregnant she had zero tolerance for anything in the kitchen when there wasn't a present holiday. She had flat out refused to join the country club's book club on principle; so all that had really been left was dancing. When the question came up ballroom or line dancing, she's beaten him for even thinking of the latter.
One step and then another, and she twirled just because, lifting her arms to the standard position. Her mind wiped clean, and she just kept moving. Because stopping meant thinking; and she couldn't have any more of that tonight.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
this romance is
From afar calling me silently
They had run in the same social circle all of their lives, and it was apparent from the start that they couldn't be more different. She was Upper East Side Royalty, an old money socialite, with an iron fist trapped in a velvet glove, and he was the only son of a self-made millionaire and a harpy social climber, with morals as loose as his tongue. The only thing they had in common was private schools and an endless supply of green…almost.
A smile blossomed against the paleness of her lips as she turns again, counting her steps.
If someone had told her that they would have been married and that she would have given birth to two of the most beautiful children ever she would have laughed them out of the room. But that was what had happened. They had survived together, over any obstacles; for each other.
They had been together for nine years.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Accidents happened all the time in the town they both grew up in. It was Murphy's Law run amuck and there wasn't really anything that they could do about it. But when she heard that the plane carrying her husband and members of his advertising team had gone down somewhere in the North Atlantic, she had thought that he would be rescued and returned to her with a few broken bones and a new scar.
When they found his body, she hadn't been there. Her father-in-law identified the body and had it sent back for the funeral. He and his wife had taken care of all of the things that she probably should have been expected to do.
Then again, when you abandon your children and flee from your penthouse to trap yourself in the sanctuary of your Hampton home for a week upon hearing the news, your family doesn't think you can handle much more then showing up.
Her step faltered as she remembered the funeral, the bright colors and the soft speeches. Through the entire thing she expected him to return. The body in the casket couldn't truly be his. She knew it was impossible, but what the hell, it wasn't like that sort of thing had never happened before.
A waltz for the chance I should take
but how will I know where to start?
She's spinning between constellations and dreams
her rhythm is my beating heart
He smiled at the picture that she made in the center of the ballroom in her gown of deep crimson and with her chocolate curls falling from their pins. Her feet glided across the marble with a grace that she never claimed to possess.
Even with tearstained cheeks and mascara blotches on the corner of her eyes, she never looked more beautiful to him.
She was a picture, his wife was.
It was a shame that she wouldn't hear him when he told her.
From what he was told, he was lucky to get this brief moment to see her.
She spun in a circle, clockwise, then paused mid-step and reversed, pulling her hands up to point to the ceiling. Her step faltered again and he had to resist the urge to reach out to her. Always independent, that one. She probably wouldn't have taken his hand if he were real. That was why he loved her so much.
He moved further into the room and allowed a bittersweet smile to play against his lips. If this was to be the last time he saw her, then he would be damned if he wasn't going to make the most out of it. He was going to remember everything.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
This romance is
From afar calling me silently
He had loved her since the very first moment he'd seen her, two big eyes and a red ribbon in her hair. She presented herself to him and demanded that they be friends. She had gotten him out of more trouble then he had been able to find for himself at such a young age. And he told her time and again that she was more trouble then she was worth.
But she was worth everything to him.
They'd been married in winter. A fitting season if anyone really knew them.
She'd complained for days after that she'd been freezing in her custom made gown.
Their first child had followed just eighteen months after.
He could still remember the way the hospital room smelled like her vanilla and jasmine perfume even through labor. He swore for weeks that even his daughter knew the scent. The child had stopped crying as soon as they slid her into her mother's arms.
Their second had made an appearance almost three years later.
His heart broke when the realization hit him that he wouldn't be there for anymore of the milestones that come with life. He wouldn't watch them in their first dance recital, and he couldn't meet their first boyfriends with his stepbrother and a glass of Scotch. He wouldn't be there to be asked for his little girl's hand in marriage, and it would fall to someone else to tell her how beautiful she was before their trip down the aisle.
It was all up to her now.
And that killed him all over again.
Always the strong one.
I can't keep on watching forever
I give up this view just to tell her
All of the help had been sent home hours before, to return to clean in the morning, and she had the entire place to herself until she decided to head to her own home. There was no way possible that there could be someone in the room with her.
She stopped when she heard his voice.
"May I have this dance?"
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she turned and smiled at the apparition in front of her. There was a split second when she had actually thought to close her eyes and will him away. That this night would be so much easier if he hadn't - wasn't there.
She didn't speak, just reached out her hand to take his.
He pulled her close and dropped his other hand to her waist. They didn't blink as they began to glide, him taking the lead, across the dance floor. She had missed the way his body held her firmly, but with the utmost care. He never allowed her to forget that she was one of the most precious things in the world to him.
A tear slid from her eyes as she bit back a sob.
This was nothing more then a good-bye.
When I close my eyes I can see
The spotlights are bright on you and me
We've got the floor
And you're in my arms
How could I ask for more?
They didn't stop. They couldn't. Neither one really knew how many trips around the room they had taken, until her head lurched and she realized that they were stopping. The clock at the bank across the street struck two and she lowered her eyes away from his. She wouldn't allow him to watch her cry.
That wasn't the last memory she wanted for them.
Her grip on his hand tightened and she took a step back, taking him with her. Then she turned and started the steps again, this time with his hands planted firmly on her waist and her back to his chest.
So she dances
In and out of the crowd like a glance
this romance is
From afar calling me silently
He smelled of promises of forever. With a splash of the Old Spice she had gotten him for Father's Day. The bottle was still on their dresser.
The music in her mind started to fade their second turn around the room, and he brought her to another stop in front of the window. She didn't have to look up to know she would be alone.
But she could feel his lips brush against the shell of her ear and his breath on her skin.
"I love you."
Her breath caught in the back of her throat even as her fist dug into her lips.
In nine months she had tried to learn to put the pieces together. And in nine minutes she had been torn apart again.
His hand slid from her waist and she sunk to the floor.
I can't keep on watching forever
And I'm giving up this view just to tell her