Revised RushSimone Dancing Scene
At the beginning of the year, I think, I posted that scene with Rush & Simone dancing...
But I've gone through it & I think I've made all of it transition much smoother through it.
Because there's not much else to do during lunch. Kinda stopped feeling like eating. So I write all the time.
I'll post a separate post about random things, mmmkay?
CHARACTERS: Rush, Simone
NOTES: Concrit will be appreciated a ton. Kthnxbai. :)
DEDICATION: To all the positive responses I have gotten for all of the previously posted parts. I'm going to finish revising the other ones tomorrow, so that their ages fit their characterizations.
She did not want to dance with people.
To be more specific, she did not want to dance with him. Simone did not care if Rush liked her in this shade of brutal blood red, that he liked it because it made her delicately pale skin glow. She most certainly did not care that he liked the way the hair at the nape of her neck naturally curled, making her neck look even longer and swan-like. She cared even less that he liked the way their bodies fit together like a ring fit on a finger and ignored the way her body leaned into him despite all of her urging.
She seemed to at once both wilt and stand taller at the thought.
"What are you doing?" Simone hissed at him through smiling lips that trembled much more than she wanted them to even as they went through the practiced steps of a waltz. She could still remember him teaching her to dance under starlit skies with fireflies lighting their steps.
"I think that should be perfectly obvious." Dear God, how she despised how his deep baritone voice could make her insides shake and melt like ice in spring. Why must she be the one cursed with this sensitivity to him?
Just him.
Only ever him.
"You know what I mean. Stop dodging the question. We both know that I know that you know that doing this is so suspicious I won't be able to go on even a walk through the gardens for the next month."
Silence was his answer as the string quartet swiftly played. She couldn't help but wonder if he was gathering his thoughts or if he was just refusing to answer
Finally he answered, just as she was about to pull away.
"Why should this seem strange? All brothers dance with their brother's fiancée. They're supposed to. A tradition and whatnot. Surely you have learned that much." Even his smile could disarm her. Pretty teeth, perfect lips, and dark eyes that threatened to pull her in. Eyes, she had always thought, made the smile. Eyes told the truth-if the smile is genuine or a fake promise. Rush had always had this way of leaving the smile open-ended, making her wonder what was really running through his mind.
"You seem to have a missed a step coming down here this evening. I'm not just any man's fiancée and you aren't just any brother." She ignored how wrong the whole arrangement seemed.
She didn't tell him it was wrong. She could never say it was wrong because to do so would be to lie blatantly and nice girls don't lie, something that really meant it would hurt to imagine that being happy with him was some sort of sin.
She didn't bother telling herself that she didn't care if she hurt him.
Simone knew she would never hurt Rush if she could help it.
"I assure you I am perfectly fine." His hair tickled her ear as he leaned in, black mixing with a dark auburn as his lips tickled sensitive skin. The young woman couldn't help but shiver.
"Do you think that my brother will jump out of his seat to 'defend your honor'? After all, he seems to think he has won all of you. Including your heart." Pulling back, Rush lifted his right eyebrow at her in his characteristic expression of smug superiority.
"Who says I haven't given him my heart?" Simone demanded, a glare in her eyes. "And you know he doesn't see me that way. Unlike you, he seems to be trying to make the best of things. Like me. Anyway, your father especially will be extremely displeased. So we should stop now. "
He just cocked his eyebrow at her again.
"I hate how you can always read me so easily," she grumbled.
That earned her a crooked grin-the kind that made her insides twist and the other girls swoon. "Well, we've spent enough time together that we know each other rather well, don't you think, Si-mone?" Damn his seductive tones and the way he could peel words apart to make her knees weak.
Glaring again, she spat, "And now I wish we hadn't. All you do is play the prince card and act like you can get anyone you want. The only reason you're here now is because I am the only one who doesn't just fall at your feet! We are not exactly like star-crossed lovers of lore. I'm not allowed to-." She stopped talking and swallowed the sob that threatened to consume her.
"I am to be married to your brother in less than a fortnight."
Trying to tug her hand out of his while removing his hand from her waist was impossible. The tuxedo did not reveal the muscles she had saw him build from practicing swordplay, but she knew that they were there as plain as the full moon outside. "Do you really want to dishonor us both by walking out of the dance in the middle?"
"Do you enjoy my misery?" she asked instead under her breath.
"If I did, would I be talking with you at all?" Simone had always hated his habit of answering questions with more questions-questions she did not understand. They made her think about things that made her cringe or feel incapable or just wonder-how much does Rush know that he keeps hidden?
"Why can't you ever just say what you mean? What do you mean?"
She didn't want to answer his question. It was not like he knew that every time he talked to her now felt like being stabbed under her fingernails with a blunt butterknife. He didn't know that not having him and knowing that she'll never have him again while he pranced in front of her just about killed her.
"Do you really think you'll be happy with Wesley?" The blunt question cut her deeply underneath a facade of empty smiles and painted lips.
"Your Highness, what do you offer me that he does not?" Her eyes searched blank eyes for something that could tell her more than just words. The quiet mention of his title was meant as a rebuke- something to make him feel or show something, but she saw by the flinch within his darkening eyes that she sounded like a lost little girl.
Regardless, he didn't hesitate for a second. "Love."
She couldn't help it; a gasp escaped her and her eyes widened. They tightened their grasps on each other. Earlier she couldn't let him go soon enough; now she couldn't hold on long enough.
Rush was offering himself to her-everything of something he had hidden behind masks: one of a brilliant rogue and the other of a cold-hearted prince. Things that no one else had seen or would ever see. Even she-one of the people closest to him-had not seen everything he had to offer. She could keep him.
She had seen the way he had watched the sentencing of the poor that had stolen merely an apple off one of the king's trees, a frozen expression of nothing. She had seen him lead a maid by the hand to his bedchamber, the girl's face caught between attraction to his high cheekbones and fear at eyes like burning coals that catch people like dreamcatchers and never let go. Simone had witnessed the way he ignored Wesley for the most part, casting a shadow that was impossible to overcome. It wasn't that Wesley wasn't brilliant-because he was a genius in his own right-but compared to Rush, he was but a bug under his foot, something the elder never let the younger forget.
But Simone had also seen the Rush that went through the woods right after his father's hunters had laid out their traps and let go all of the trapped foxes. She had seen a Rush that had sneaked the last sausage to Wesley when he had been refused food for skipping his tutor's classes. She had experienced a Rush that had kissed her under the moonlight, swaying after a difficult day of stitchery and sneaking out to practice sparring together where disapproving eyes couldn't cast darkness upon their happiness.
She knew there was something more than even that. He had offered her glimpses of it. Everything was barely out of reach and he was just offering it up-asking if he could just give her it.
They could run away and be happy.
But her eyes sparked under the recollection of the truth. Truth ruled the world regardless of kings or husbands or guillotines. It led both the blind and those who could see. Nothing could possibly change what was, is, and always will be.
"Unfortunately," Simone whispered under the furious effect of bows crossing metal strings, "love can't buy life or freedom."
A part of her knew that some things were part of a bigger picture. That part was the one that believed in wishing on shooting stars and horseshoes and four leaf clovers and thought that True Love was unstoppable.
But pragmatism, always her burden to bear alone, crushed it under the weight of reality.
Wrenching her hand away under the cover of the dying notes of the piece, she stumbled away over to the head table before she could be swept away with the rest of the dancers. A smile was barely fixed on her face as she assured her betrothed that she was perfectly okay. He laid a kiss on her brow before leading her out of the banquet hall along with the rest of the court
Only then did she look back.
Rush was the last one left on the dance floor, watching her.
But I've gone through it & I think I've made all of it transition much smoother through it.
Because there's not much else to do during lunch. Kinda stopped feeling like eating. So I write all the time.
I'll post a separate post about random things, mmmkay?
CHARACTERS: Rush, Simone
NOTES: Concrit will be appreciated a ton. Kthnxbai. :)
DEDICATION: To all the positive responses I have gotten for all of the previously posted parts. I'm going to finish revising the other ones tomorrow, so that their ages fit their characterizations.
She did not want to dance with people.
To be more specific, she did not want to dance with him. Simone did not care if Rush liked her in this shade of brutal blood red, that he liked it because it made her delicately pale skin glow. She most certainly did not care that he liked the way the hair at the nape of her neck naturally curled, making her neck look even longer and swan-like. She cared even less that he liked the way their bodies fit together like a ring fit on a finger and ignored the way her body leaned into him despite all of her urging.
She seemed to at once both wilt and stand taller at the thought.
"What are you doing?" Simone hissed at him through smiling lips that trembled much more than she wanted them to even as they went through the practiced steps of a waltz. She could still remember him teaching her to dance under starlit skies with fireflies lighting their steps.
"I think that should be perfectly obvious." Dear God, how she despised how his deep baritone voice could make her insides shake and melt like ice in spring. Why must she be the one cursed with this sensitivity to him?
Just him.
Only ever him.
"You know what I mean. Stop dodging the question. We both know that I know that you know that doing this is so suspicious I won't be able to go on even a walk through the gardens for the next month."
Silence was his answer as the string quartet swiftly played. She couldn't help but wonder if he was gathering his thoughts or if he was just refusing to answer
Finally he answered, just as she was about to pull away.
"Why should this seem strange? All brothers dance with their brother's fiancée. They're supposed to. A tradition and whatnot. Surely you have learned that much." Even his smile could disarm her. Pretty teeth, perfect lips, and dark eyes that threatened to pull her in. Eyes, she had always thought, made the smile. Eyes told the truth-if the smile is genuine or a fake promise. Rush had always had this way of leaving the smile open-ended, making her wonder what was really running through his mind.
"You seem to have a missed a step coming down here this evening. I'm not just any man's fiancée and you aren't just any brother." She ignored how wrong the whole arrangement seemed.
She didn't tell him it was wrong. She could never say it was wrong because to do so would be to lie blatantly and nice girls don't lie, something that really meant it would hurt to imagine that being happy with him was some sort of sin.
She didn't bother telling herself that she didn't care if she hurt him.
Simone knew she would never hurt Rush if she could help it.
"I assure you I am perfectly fine." His hair tickled her ear as he leaned in, black mixing with a dark auburn as his lips tickled sensitive skin. The young woman couldn't help but shiver.
"Do you think that my brother will jump out of his seat to 'defend your honor'? After all, he seems to think he has won all of you. Including your heart." Pulling back, Rush lifted his right eyebrow at her in his characteristic expression of smug superiority.
"Who says I haven't given him my heart?" Simone demanded, a glare in her eyes. "And you know he doesn't see me that way. Unlike you, he seems to be trying to make the best of things. Like me. Anyway, your father especially will be extremely displeased. So we should stop now. "
He just cocked his eyebrow at her again.
"I hate how you can always read me so easily," she grumbled.
That earned her a crooked grin-the kind that made her insides twist and the other girls swoon. "Well, we've spent enough time together that we know each other rather well, don't you think, Si-mone?" Damn his seductive tones and the way he could peel words apart to make her knees weak.
Glaring again, she spat, "And now I wish we hadn't. All you do is play the prince card and act like you can get anyone you want. The only reason you're here now is because I am the only one who doesn't just fall at your feet! We are not exactly like star-crossed lovers of lore. I'm not allowed to-." She stopped talking and swallowed the sob that threatened to consume her.
"I am to be married to your brother in less than a fortnight."
Trying to tug her hand out of his while removing his hand from her waist was impossible. The tuxedo did not reveal the muscles she had saw him build from practicing swordplay, but she knew that they were there as plain as the full moon outside. "Do you really want to dishonor us both by walking out of the dance in the middle?"
"Do you enjoy my misery?" she asked instead under her breath.
"If I did, would I be talking with you at all?" Simone had always hated his habit of answering questions with more questions-questions she did not understand. They made her think about things that made her cringe or feel incapable or just wonder-how much does Rush know that he keeps hidden?
"Why can't you ever just say what you mean? What do you mean?"
She didn't want to answer his question. It was not like he knew that every time he talked to her now felt like being stabbed under her fingernails with a blunt butterknife. He didn't know that not having him and knowing that she'll never have him again while he pranced in front of her just about killed her.
"Do you really think you'll be happy with Wesley?" The blunt question cut her deeply underneath a facade of empty smiles and painted lips.
"Your Highness, what do you offer me that he does not?" Her eyes searched blank eyes for something that could tell her more than just words. The quiet mention of his title was meant as a rebuke- something to make him feel or show something, but she saw by the flinch within his darkening eyes that she sounded like a lost little girl.
Regardless, he didn't hesitate for a second. "Love."
She couldn't help it; a gasp escaped her and her eyes widened. They tightened their grasps on each other. Earlier she couldn't let him go soon enough; now she couldn't hold on long enough.
Rush was offering himself to her-everything of something he had hidden behind masks: one of a brilliant rogue and the other of a cold-hearted prince. Things that no one else had seen or would ever see. Even she-one of the people closest to him-had not seen everything he had to offer. She could keep him.
She had seen the way he had watched the sentencing of the poor that had stolen merely an apple off one of the king's trees, a frozen expression of nothing. She had seen him lead a maid by the hand to his bedchamber, the girl's face caught between attraction to his high cheekbones and fear at eyes like burning coals that catch people like dreamcatchers and never let go. Simone had witnessed the way he ignored Wesley for the most part, casting a shadow that was impossible to overcome. It wasn't that Wesley wasn't brilliant-because he was a genius in his own right-but compared to Rush, he was but a bug under his foot, something the elder never let the younger forget.
But Simone had also seen the Rush that went through the woods right after his father's hunters had laid out their traps and let go all of the trapped foxes. She had seen a Rush that had sneaked the last sausage to Wesley when he had been refused food for skipping his tutor's classes. She had experienced a Rush that had kissed her under the moonlight, swaying after a difficult day of stitchery and sneaking out to practice sparring together where disapproving eyes couldn't cast darkness upon their happiness.
She knew there was something more than even that. He had offered her glimpses of it. Everything was barely out of reach and he was just offering it up-asking if he could just give her it.
They could run away and be happy.
But her eyes sparked under the recollection of the truth. Truth ruled the world regardless of kings or husbands or guillotines. It led both the blind and those who could see. Nothing could possibly change what was, is, and always will be.
"Unfortunately," Simone whispered under the furious effect of bows crossing metal strings, "love can't buy life or freedom."
A part of her knew that some things were part of a bigger picture. That part was the one that believed in wishing on shooting stars and horseshoes and four leaf clovers and thought that True Love was unstoppable.
But pragmatism, always her burden to bear alone, crushed it under the weight of reality.
Wrenching her hand away under the cover of the dying notes of the piece, she stumbled away over to the head table before she could be swept away with the rest of the dancers. A smile was barely fixed on her face as she assured her betrothed that she was perfectly okay. He laid a kiss on her brow before leading her out of the banquet hall along with the rest of the court
Only then did she look back.
Rush was the last one left on the dance floor, watching her.