Rose's eyes sparkled beneath the dim light of the beaded chandeliers above their heads. The wondrous sapphire and diamond Heart and yet, the only thing which captured any part of me was her sincerity.
Wearing only this.
I had once told her that I couldn't breathe, or think, when submerged into icy cold waters back home in Wisconsin, but that was nothing compared to the breathlessness that I felt in that moment.
All right.
It was all that I could manage to say. Her eyes never wavered, but suddenly my stomach was twisting and turning into a million different knots and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the simplest touch of her fingertips as she took the diamond from my grasp in order to retrieve it. That silly second sparked enough of a fire, almost the same amount that pressing my lips to hers at the bow had done so.
Rose was passionate. Openly so. And finding that sort of spirit within another human being was rare but here was a woman wishing to open herself to me in such a way that I was sure would be a first.
I shall go prepare. Make yourself comfortable.
I could only watch as she moved with such a purpose towards a door and disappeared into the room without glancing back. Behind her, she had left me a puddle of nerves. It was then, that I recalled my own purpose; I was an artist, or something of the sort. I had never declined drawing a subject, and had never been emotionally involved with one either.
Shit.
I ran my fingers through my hair, moving it away from my eyes in order to gain some perspective and clarity on the events of the last minute or so. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the divan couch with a Monet resting against it, casually, as though it had very little value. The fire burned beautifully beside it and the lighting was bright enough for him to witness his subject where she could lay-right there on the couch.
Shit. This time I said it aloud.
I removed my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves in order to get to work and clear my mind so that I could concentrate on the task at hand. Drawing came as easily to me as breathing; with a piece of charcoal in my hand, nothing else mattered than the object of my attention, but that had never also been the object of my desires. Exhaling out the nerves, the frustration and inability to concentrate, I unhooked my suspenders from my shoulders and allowed them to drop about my legs. I always require full freedom to move when I work, and then, as soon as I had the small part of been able to move, I started to rearrange the cushions of the divan, and picture just how the orange glow of the fire would bath her hair in a golden glow, and how it would illuminate the creamy hue of her skin.
Shit.
My heart pounded. Fast and hard. Like it had in the gymnasium, but even more so at the bow. When I had seen her there, so vibrant and beautiful beneath the glorious coloured palette of the sunset, I stopped breathing. The world stopped moving. The only thought I had was to just let her fly. To allow her to see what was beyond the walls of society. What was even beyond the ship. Beyond just me and her. It was caressing her hands, feeling the gentle shivers beneath her corset as my hands steadied her waist which caused everything to change. To tilt. To stop. Even though we soared. It had been a risk, to kiss her, right there in front of the entire world but as I moved towards her, she had come towards me. There was an inevitable pull and a shift in the circumstances. The way that her hesitance shone in that first touch, and then, her hands were threading through my hair, setting my nerve endings on fire as she gently tugged to pull me into her closer, to deepen everything about us. Our fingers were entwined. My hands clasping to her waist. Her touch to my face was magic. Her tongue moving against mine, tasting and teasing was beyond what I would ever imagine a kiss could be. Beyond how a woman could taste. If it was her first kiss, then I was honoured, astounded and completely under her brilliant spell.
