As I sat alone in my room that evening reminiscing on the gorgeous afternoon I had spent at mr Gatsbys I couldn't help but smile. I had left as dusk started to fall we had been on a grand tour of his house each room as enchanting as the one before. From the grand golden ball room with its high marble ceiling and open French doors to the many bedrooms each one decorated with the most elegant simplicity. My mind drifted while we ventured of how life might be like if I had the chance to fall in love with Gatsby.
Although my upbringing had been wealthy and grand nothing could compare to the great elegance and lavish lifestyle Gatsby had come to build. But it isn't the great wealth I seek from the most mysterious man I've ever met, it was the twinkle in his eye when he smiled, the way his mouth creased when he laughed. I couldn't help but feel utterly consumed. How had this happened when it was only a short few evenings ago I had first laid eyes on this man.
As we walked from each room gatsby would tell me a story of how he came to acquire many of the beautiful items that filled his home each with an interesting history yet I was simply dying to know his history. He asked about my family, my fathers business I told him my father had fought in the war and was considered quite the hero when he left the military and met my mother he settled down and bought a small chain of confectionary stores. He approved of my fathers business sense commending him on his success.
Every fibre in my body itched to ask more about this mysterious man before my eyes but my mouth simply could not fathom the words. He had me tongue tied. He asked of any previous relationships which made me blush deeply as I was embarrassed to admit I had none. I found myself at ease that he did not judge and began telling me his days at Oxford. Fascinated I clung to every word eager to know more. To crack the mystery.
As I lie in my bed I drifted away to the painting I had fallen in love with and once more thought of bringing the image to life. I found myself craving more of Mr Gatsby. Was this the start of love or was I insane? And with that thought I fell in to a dreamless sleep anticipating the moment when I would lay eyes on this strange man I was slowing falling for.
YOU ARE READING
Gatsby's Mistress.
Short Story"I swallowed a lump that had lodged itself in my throat" was I in danger? Gatsby has always loved Daisy but what happens when his wait is getting too long? Will darling Ruby satisfy his needs?
