Dancing in an Empty Ballroom

Dancing in an Empty Ballroom - Short Story

She stood, wistfully, in the corner of the endless, gilded ballroom, staring out of a mountainous window, one of many that traced the room, flooding every fine detail, with light. Her glazed eyes wandered the garden below; the freshly trimmed hedges, rimmed with dancing red roses beneath, trailing along through an infinite maze of green, that she herself, wouldn't mind getting lost in.

Three chandeliers hung elegantly above, perfectly placed in line watching over her, glowing so softly, illuminating the intricately painted, Baroque-style ceiling, which was dotted with cherubs, and laced with shimmering gold and silver amongst the pinks and greys of cotton clouds.

The room stood so quiet. She could almost hear her own heartbeat in her chest. A ghostly white grand piano sat longingly at the end of the room, patiently waiting for someone to play its next tune. The polished brown floors lie beneath her feet, deserted by only one pair of shoes. Or was it two?

Suddenly, her ears pricked up to the sound of a light squeak from across the room. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes not daring to reveal who stood at the glass doors behind, although already knowing who it was. They then begin to make their way towards her, brushing their arm upon a pillar of white roses, leaving a single petal to float swiftly to the floor. Their steps neared closer, leaving a gentle pat behind each step, syncing with her heartbeat, quickening by every move. They got louder and louder, treading across the streaks of aged wood.

Silence. The only sound left to hear was the chirping of birdsong outside. Without even laying her eyes on the person that stood so close behind, she knew, she just knew who it was. Him.

Abruptly, but delicately, he lay his hands on her waist, treating her like fine china. She held each of his hands rather hesitantly with the opposite, still facing the blinding light from the window. His fingers lightly trailed along her deep red gown, layered with silk waves. Feeling his subtle warm breath down her neck, sending chills down her spine.

She turned around. Slowly. There he was. Looking down at her, gazing into her golden-green eyes, as his shone back at her, mesmerizing her, looking like deep pools of honey. Freckles lay across his nose to his cheeks, as if flicked on with a paintbrush. His hair was an ocean of black waves crashing against each other, seeming out of control, yet so tamed; his complexion was effortless, though perfect.

She held onto his shoulders, squared by a maroon tuxedo, with his neck hugged by the collar of a black shirt and tie. His hands remained on her waist, firmly.

Just at the right moment, the jingle of piano keys rung their ears. The tune to Nocturne echoed the hall, bouncing off each wall. They began to sway, and turn with the music, spinning fast to slow, slow to fast. He would occasionally, raise his arm, leaving her to twirl underneath, then pinning her back to his chest. One hand now held her back, while the other, grasped her hand to which they hung beside them while they danced. They glided to every corner, not leaving an inch of the room untouched by the clip-clopping of her heels and his leather shoes, moving back and forth in perfect unison. All while locking eyes with each other.

As the music slowed, so did they. She lay her head onto his chest, closing her eyes, with having nothing more to worry about. He rested his chin on top of her head, still holding her tight. Inseparable.

The sun hid over the horizon, behind the trees that went on for miles, letting the stars peek through the remaining wisps of clouds.

Not a word needed to be said. They felt as if they could stay like that, just the two of them, forever.