The Last Dance

Reads: 205  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
The final dance between lovers

Submitted: April 26, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 26, 2016

A A A

A A A


I pulled her into my arms, gently twisting the sword from her hands.
 
 
A dance, that's all it had been.  A fervent reply to a cast off question.  Fast footwork, forward, back, left and forward again.  I looked in her eyes as we parted for a moment, silent pleading in her eyes to take lead.  But no, I would hold the lead for a while longer. Moving forward again, catching her off guard and adjusting to my movements.  Now the dance was becoming strenuous, and my clothing clung to my body with sweat.  She moved left just as I did the same. A quick cramp reminded me of where I was and pulled back to the now.  
Her outfit was beautiful; a knee length dress that hugged close to the body. A beautiful dress that covered the whole of the chest and shoulders with open space to midback and a small slit above and between the breasts to keep her from overheating.  Ornate designs covered it from bottom to top, depictions of dragons and knights inlayed by a master seamstress.  Her hair was up in a tight braid, pulling her forehead back.  She's so focussed on me, her blue-grey eyes locked like a hawk on a field mouse.  And I was giving her the same attention, but I was mournful for this dance had to end sooner or later, and then we'd part ways.  No.  I'd keep the dance for as long as possible, I moved faster to the left and then with a quickened pace backwards and then left again.  She moved to take the lead, pressing forward, harder and harder, until she had me against the wall.  I slipped us around so she was back to the wall, and then I slipped us back again.  She groaned.  She let out her braid with a simple hand movement, her ashen brown hair falling like an ocean wave, if they fell like frantic cats.
 
 
 
I began thinking, not of the now, but then... When she hardly knew my name, or where I was from, afore we shared stories, a bed and our lives.  
 
"Alain, are you not focused?"  Her eyes were soft now, just like they always were, a hint of a smile on her lips forced away as I looked upon her.  
 
Her body was rigid, gods this dance has lasted too long.  I could see the fatigue on her, the sullen eyes and heavy breathing was enough to worry me, but I couldn't be closer if I tried.   I was aware that I didn't look well either, and I saw a mirrored look on her face. 
 
We began the dance again, our movements sluggish and heavy, wide steps replacing the quick and calculated ones.  And then it happened, I stepped forward with her, the feeling of a small penetration.  I couldn't move, but I couldn't stay still.  The dance had ended, and she'd won; as I looked down I saw the blade pierced my upper torso.  I felt heightened, I could feel the blade on my rib, resting, and then it started moving.  With a primal scream she pushed the sword deeper and ran me backwards into the wall.  My back hit the wall first, followed by my head.  Everything was silent as I attempted to regain my breath.  The blade began shaking, quivering  in my body.  She'd done it, she won, so why was she sad?  I pushed off the wall with all my strength.  Her head bowed into my chest above the sword, her hands still grasping it like a vice.  Gently twisting the sword from her hands, I pulled her into my arms.  
 
"I am sorry Alain..."  


© Copyright 2018 William O'Bryan. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Booksie 2018 Poetry Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by William O'Bryan

The Last Dance

Short Story / Romance

Popular Tags