Skarsgård

Chapter 1: "Dolce and Gabbana Dress"

ELYSE 

He was tall. Much taller than I ever imagined. Like a skyscraper towering among a ranch home. I studied him from across the room and watched as he cradled the miniature glass then to his lips throwing it back, finishing it in one gulp. His short blonde mustache cradled the rim of the glass, creating a fuzzy barrier between his lips and the red liquid. I could hear my friends making conversation around me, laughing and talking about something I deemed less important than my visual focus. I watched as his lips parted, speaking words I would never be able to hear, as he grabbed a hold of his friend in comfort. I saw him laugh and for a fading dip in the music, I heard it too. A pleasant laugh, a slight giggle even, which intrigued me more. Only when my friends shook my shoulder did I come out of my trance of him.

"Elyse, we are going to the bathroom to freshen up. You coming?" Theresa asked.

I shook my head no, completely wanting to ignore her and quite annoyed that she would distract me. She and our two other friends, twins, Maureen and Madison, went trailing behind her; both of them in an shifting tipsy sway.

I turned back to my view of him and he was gone. My eyes craved for him, flashing from one end of the room to another. There is no way I could have missed seeing him leave the party, I thought. He was way too tall, way too commanding, way too beautiful to glance over. Where was he? I thought to myself. Then my body made a minor jolt to the left and in an instant, wetness poured onto my dress. I looked to see what was the cause of it. I pulled the gown away from my chest watching as the cool liquid quickly scaled down my cleavage onto my stomach. I looked up in rage to see who had pushed me and spilled their drink on me.  My face went blank and I made a short hiccup - it was him.

"I'm so sorry!" he yelled over the loud music. Peering down onto me so I would be able to hear him better. He seemed even more of a giant than I would have imagined. I was short, only five-foot-two, most people were taller than me. However, his height was towering and I could tell from his leaning posture that he was quite used to bending down to us small people.

I made a short snarl at him then grabbed my arm as if it pained me and walked away quickly. To my pleasure, he followed me to a small corner of the room where I held onto my arm giving my most dramatic oscar-winning performance.

"Did I hurt you? I am so sorry. I get a little clumsy when I've had one two many. Can I get you some ice? A towel for your dress?" he asked panicky. He didn't allow me to start. In an instant, he was off and I watched as his blonde head, which stood higher than others, roamed to the bar. A few short minutes later and he was back with his full form now in view, holding a small orange towel, a beer glass filled with ice, and a clear plastic cup of water.

"Thank you." I said trying my hardest to be passive aggressive. This dress was one of my favorites. I found it on sale a year ago at Neiman's, priced at $2,400. I knew a deal when I saw one so I charged it to my credit card and didn't care that I would be leaving myself with only $250 for that week - I wear it often, just to get my monies worth. Now that same dress stuck to my body like a wet-suit. I was intrigued by him, I stared into his eyes; so honest, so humble. I felt I knew a small piece of his history just by seeing his face. Not many people have that ability; to tell their story with a gaze. So, I found myself holding back some anger to get to know him better. I dabbed the towel in the water cup as he stood, both his hands holding onto the glass of ice like a hopeful trick-or-treater, begging for candy at your door on Halloween.

"Hold this", I said, ignoring him as I handed him my purse so I could effectively wipe my torso down with water. I saw tiny dotted specs on my suede purse as we exchanged. I rolled my eyes, dammit! He also ruined my bag. He grabbed hold of the small tan handle and held it between his thumb and pointing finger; like a dainty woman would pick up a dirty clothed napkin. I let out a small chuckle and as he looked down at himself holding the purse in one hand and the beer glass filled with unneeded ice in another, he let out his own giggle of laughter. That same high-pitch and somewhat childish sound as I had heard earlier.