be·trothed
A person to whom one has always belonged to another.
I was high above the tents; sitting on the railing of the balcony, throwing meatballs off the edge. I looked at the dancing shadows in the glow of the dimly lit tents. The walls of the underground building that glow red with the reflection of such shadows. I listen to quiet chatter and laughter from the customers. The gasps of the people observing the strong acrobats swinging from the ceiling. I played with the ribbon around my neck neatly tied into a bow.
"You have a customer." The smooth voice told me. Deciding right before putting it in my mouth I threw my last meatball onto the unknowing crowd in the tents. I've lost my appetite. I could feel him tracing my tattoos with his eyes. He always does.
"I like your tattoos..." He said. I smiled knowingly.
I didn't turn around but I knew I couldn't keep my customer waiting. "You know, I've always loved your voice..." I told him.
"Thank you, but you still have a customer Monroe." He replied.
"Yes I'm aware." I got up and finally turned around to look him in the eyes. I blinked it away and stroked my hair and walked towards the stairs. He slapped my butt before I was out of his reach.
"Monroe?" I turned back around to look at him. "I like your voice too... I like your accent."
I smiled for him. I quickly turned around and ran down the stairs.
"You should smile more!" He yelled at me as I ran away. I smiled again. I skipped down into the employees dressing room. I pulled off my street shirt and put on my tight red sleeve-less. A little something to make customers happy. I whipped open my locker waisting no time and pulled out the small bottle of gold paint. I poured a little onto my hands and smeared it on my shoulders and under my eyes. I fixed the ribbon around my neck. I was ready. I stood under the open heater in the corner of the dressing room to let the paint dry a little.
I weaved my way through the dimly lit corners between the red tents. I looked above me to look for Dylan. I looked in his usual spot, but he wasn't there. He might have still been on the balcony. I found the tent my customer was waiting in. Before I entered I looked up to the balcony and saw Dylan smiling at me. He waved and I waved back. I turned back and marched into the tent.
"You kept me waiting long enough!" The customer declared. I weakly smiled for him and slowly walked towards the bed.
"I'll make it up to you."
~~~
YOU ARE READING
His Betrothed
RomanceThe ever warm and always inviting Phoenix Club. As Monroe puts it: "The Phoenix means, rebirth. All of us were in a bad place before we started working here. All of us very self-destructive dangerous places. Together we're like one big family... All...
