Ephemeral

Breaking free

She didn't think he'd mind. Besides all she was doing was dancing, he'd done worse–much much worse. She wasn't even doing anything wrong. She had nothing to fear. Why was she even thinking about what he cared?

He was gone.

Claire smiled and moved her body, drowning herself in the fast beat and loosing herself to it. She let it take away who she was until she became a body moving to its sensual tone and she didn't care. She was having too much fun. She was living for herself. This, she grinned as she raised her hands up, this was what freedom felt like. Where you could do whatever you wanted, when you wanted.

Her eyes caught bright grey ones who were watching her every move with rapt attention and intensity.

With whoever she wanted.

She let her lips turn up in a smile, her eyes inviting the handsome male in. He raised one dark brow up a fraction, finished his drink and stalked towards her with all the grace of a panther. Her heart beat fast. There was no going back now.

No words were exchanged. They weren't needed. He smirked down at her, gripped her hips and crushed her towards his front. Her breath came out harsher. A thrill raced down her spine. She bit her lip, turning and grinding against him slowly. Her back arched when he ran a hand down caressing her side. She tilted her head to look up at him, her big eyes meeting his hooded ones. She lowered hers to his lips. They looked pink and inviting. She wanted contact.

He lowered his head. And his grey eyes slowly seemed to morph into a vibrant green. Her chest lost all oxygen and she froze.

No. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't be like him. She wouldn't stoop to his level. She placed a hand on the man's chest.

"No," she murmured. He didn't move. Maybe he hadn't heard her over the music. "No!" she shouted. He stayed where he was. She looked up in panic and began to struggle at his nearness when she realized she had no arms caging her in. He just stood there, arms down and looking at her in concern.

He'd listened. A stranger had listened to her softly spoken words. She slumped. Tears burned behind her lids. She pressed a hand to her mouth, moving away until she was practically running. She needed to get away.

No. She stopped. No more running. Even if it was hard to accept no matter where she went; she would never be completely free. He followed her everywhere. She needed to stop running. She also needed a drink, but her wallet was as empty as her stomach. Her throat begged a taste of alcohol. The bar was expensive.

She looked back at the dance floor. Why, she didn't know. Or rather maybe didn't want to know. But the man with the pretty grey eyes wasn't there. She sighed, maybe it was disappointment but she didn't bother trying to figure it out. She didn't even know him.

She walked forward. To where she didn't know. She didn't get far either. A hard chest crashed into hers and arms steadied her. She looked up to familiar grey eyes. They were still dark with concern.

"Are you okay?" His voice was deep. Husky. Like velvet and honey. She wanted to record it and play it on repeat.

"No. I mean yes! Yes, I'm fine," she tucked her hair behind her ear. The sexual tigress in her had disappeared, leaving a shy shell behind. She glanced up at him then looked away. A moment ago they were dancing, so close. They might have kissed if she hadn't stopped it. The thought brought her eyes back to his lips.

They were moving. He was saying something. She snapped her eyes up to see him looking at her in amusement now. She thought he suited it better than worry.

"Would you like a drink?" he repeated. He gestured towards the bar. He'd read her mind. She smiled a little, nodded and followed him.

"What do you want?" He asked. He was asking her. Letting her choose. She licked her lips, staring nervously around the bar. She picked the first thing that popped in her head.

"A Long Island." She'd heard her cousin say it was the best drink she had ever had. She had wanted to try it for so long.

Mr. Gorgeous Grey eyes quirked his lips, nodded and told her order to the bartender. He'd gotten a beer for himself.

"So who are you, stranger?" He asked placing her drink in front of her. She opened her mouth to say her name, Claire, but then stopped. Looked in his eyes once. She realized he was giving her a chance to be someone else; or rather be someone she wanted to be. He didn't have to know who she used to be. She could be a whole new person. She thought of the name she had always really liked and smiled a little.

"Gisselle. I'm Gisselle."

"The name's Blue, Giselle," He raised his drink a small smile on his pink mouth. She clinked her glass to his, then brought it to her mouth tipping it back. The strong taste burned down her throat, but this burn she didn't mind. In fact she liked it a little too much.

"You don't seem from around here. Are you visiting or staying?"

She thought about it for a minute. Then she didn't have to at all. The answer was clear. "Visiting." Nothing was permanent in her life anymore.

A corner of his mouth lifted. "First time in Vancouver?"

She nodded. "What about you? You don't seem new around here."

"No place is strange when you're a traveler. But this city is lucky it's got me coming back for the third time." His eyes caught hers. "Or maybe I'm the one lucky this time."

She swallowed. Took a long gulp of her drink. She was fighting an internal battle. She wouldn't be a cheater would she? He was no longer part of her life. And Blue had eyes more gorgeous than anything she'd ever seen.

"What are you doing tonight?" The words were out before she could stop them. Strangely she felt a thrill run through her as soon as they were out.

His eyes twinkled with an emotion that caused butterflies in her stomach. He sipped his drink. "What did you have in mind?"

The ball was in her court. But she couldn't get the words out anymore. She felt too shy. She looked down, heart pounding. Fingers tilted her chin up and she made a soft sound in the back of her throat seeing him closer. Much closer. His cologne filtered her nose. It was citrus and sandalwood and something entirely him. It was a heady combination.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly. His breath brushed her face. His eyes were sincere. They weren't layered with lies and deceit. And they were so intense.

Her mouth parted. Her tongue darted out, a small triangle tracing her dry lower lip. "I'm not sure," She whispered. She wasn't sure what she meant by it. She wasn't sure if he even heard her. But all of a sudden he pulled back and straightened, looked at her like she was a puzzle he'd never known existed and then shook his head. A small smile played on his lips and he held a hand out.

She looked at it in confusion. "Come on," he said, "I'll show you how this city lights up in the dark."

She grasped his hand, warm and big enough to engulf hers entirely and let him help her to her feet. Then followed him outside where he planned on showing her just how it felt to finally have freedom at her finger tips.