Feral Daydreams 🎀

Dangerous Tango (🌸)

On April 21, 2024, Verbena and Larisa exchanged vows, enveloped in love and joy. Among the attendees was their dear friend Beth, her heart swelling with hope and affection for the couple. Everything was perfect until a mysterious man entered the venue, flanked by two bodyguards clad in dark suits. Beth tried to shake off her unease, assuming he was the friend Larisa had mentioned—Christopher, if she remembered correctly. Choosing to mind her own business, she settled into her seat.

As the moment approached for Verbena to toss her bouquet, she secretly hoped Beth would catch it, dreaming of her friend's future marriage, despite Beth's disinterest in the institution. Ironically, when the bouquet flew through the air, it landed in Beth’s hands. Shocked, she instinctively "threw" it towards Christopher, provoking gasps from the crowd as he smirked at her. Trying to play it cool, Beth shrugged and took a bite of her cookie, attempting to brush off the moment.

Christopher approached with a deliberate gait, amusement dancing in his eyes. Clad in a tailored black suit that seemed to absorb the light, he towered over Beth. His gaze, as cold as ice, locked onto hers as he reached out, snatching the cookie from her fingers and taking a bite. "Quite the arm you've got there, darlin'," he remarked, his voice smooth yet laced with danger. A rare smile flickered across his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. (Was she sending a message with that stunt? Intriguing.)

Leaning in, he brought his lips close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Care to dance?" he asked, though the suggestion felt more like a command. After a moment of hesitation, Beth stammered, "Oh, um, yeah, sure," as she took his hand, feeling both exhilarated and anxious.

He chuckled softly, guiding her to the dance floor. As they swayed to the music, he kept a respectful distance, yet his grip on her waist was firm and possessive. She could feel the tension radiating off her in waves. "Relax, darlin'," he coaxed gently, though there was an underlying authority in his tone. "Just enjoy the music."

His movements were fluid and precise, his eyes never leaving hers, holding her captive. (What was she trying to pull earlier? A dare? Or just playful? Either way, he found her intriguing.) As the song ended, he dipped her slightly and then pulled her back up effortlessly. "You've got some spirit; I'll give you that," he said, still smiling faintly. "But remember who you're dealing with here." With that, he released her, returning to his seat, leaving Beth standing there, uncertain of what had just transpired.

Christopher observed her retreat with a mix of amusement and curiosity. It was rare for someone to openly challenge him, especially at such a joyous event. Settling back into his chair, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Beth was more than she appeared. His interest piqued, he signaled one of his men, asking for background information on her. While he waited, his gaze remained fixed on Beth, trying to decipher her behavior. (Who is she? Why does she seem so unafraid of me?)

His thoughts were interrupted by laughter from the dance floor, but his attention remained on Beth, who was intently focused on her phone. The noise of the wedding guests faded into the background as he studied her profile. Her defiance intrigued him, but he knew it couldn't go unchallenged. He ordered a glass of whiskey, slowly sipping as he formulated his next move.

Rising, he smoothed out his suit and approached her table, moving with calculated confidence. Placing a hand on the back of her chair, he leaned in. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice low and authoritative. When she looked up, he offered a charming smile that sent chills down spines throughout the room.

Seating himself, he leaned closer, his cold eyes searching hers. "So, tell me, Beth... what's your story?" he inquired, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.

Beth shot him a glare, irritation palpable from their earlier encounter. "Why do you care?" she muttered.

His smirk deepened at her bluntness, finding it refreshing. Leaning back, he swirled the whiskey in his glass, pondering her question. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in the people who share my... space," he replied, his gaze unwavering. (Why was she so defensive? What secrets lay behind those fiery eyes?)

Taking a sip, he let the amber liquid burn down his throat. "I don't often attend weddings, but when I do, I like to know who's around," he continued, his tone friendly yet underscored by steel. "Besides, you're a fascinating individual. The way you threw those flowers... it was almost as if you were trying to say something."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. Christopher was used to people cowering before him, but Beth seemed different—a challenge he found exhilarating.

With a resigned sigh, she finally relented. "Right... What do you want to know?"

Noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor, he eased up, not wanting to push her too hard. "Just the basics will do," he replied smoothly, resting his elbows on the table and giving her his full attention. "Name, occupation, how you know the happy couple... that sort of thing." His expression softened, his icy demeanor thawing slightly. (Perhaps she’s not as hostile as I thought. Just guarded.)

As she began to share her story, he listened intently, processing every detail. Despite her initial apprehension, her voice carried an undercurrent of strength that captivated him. Christopher found himself wanting to learn more about her for both professional and personal reasons.

Throughout their conversation, he maintained a delicate balance of friendliness and authority, keeping her engaged without overwhelming her. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked onto hers, showing genuine interest as she revealed more about herself. Her guarded nature intrigued him, and he noted every nuance in her words.

As their discussion progressed, he shared tidbits of his own life—his love for classical music, his appreciation for fine art, and his penchant for collecting rare books—carefully choosing anecdotes to present a softer side without revealing too much.

By the time they wrapped up their conversation, he realized he was genuinely enjoying himself. He gave her a nod of respect before standing. "Thank you for indulging me, Beth. It was... enlightening."

His hand lingered on the back of her chair as he added, "Perhaps we’ll talk again soon."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Beth alone, lost in thought. (She’s unlike anyone I’ve met before... I wonder what else she’s capable of.)

He contemplated their next encounter, already planning how to draw her out of her shell.