I'm waiting outside her door, nervously spinning the corsage on my finger. My hired tux is pretty cliche, black with a white shirt underneath, but all my thoughts about my own clothes disappear when she opens the door. Her dress is a dream, floor length and strapless. The peach colour makes her skin even more flawless, I have a hard time keeping my jaw shut. A strand of hair falls out her loose bun and I reach out to tuck it behind her ear. Our eyes connect and for a moment, I truly believe we are stuck in time.
Her lips twitch into a smirk, "Are you you to give me that corsage or stand there gawping like an idiot?"
She holds her hand out so I can quickly slide the corsage onto her delicate little wrist. The corsage itself is timeless, a pristine Lily with a slight dusting of gold.
We walk towards my Dusty red car then the pavement is coming up to greet me again.
YOU ARE READING
Memory room
FantasíaA room with no end, no beginning and no reason. Not to be duplicated, mimicked or seen elsewhere. No real name, so it is called the memory room.
