The Day, The Night, The Life

The Night of the Gala

The next day both Ansley and Marcus left work early. Ansley went straight home to do her hair and makeup, while Marcus went to run a few errands. When the time came, however, they were both ready. Ansley wore her hair in curls, pinned to her head, showing off the back of her dress. Her heels were nude, allowing the dress to drag the slightest bit. Marcus was dressed in a brand new tux.

Marcus pulled up to Ansley's flat with a limo. As he got out to walk to her door, he saw her leaning out her window. The shock on her face spoke volumes. Marcus smiled up to her, "Hey pretty lady, you coming down, or do I need to climb your tower?" He joked. She smiled at him, shaking her head.

Ansley opened the door, revealing to her, him. He was perfectly dressed. He had a clean shave, a tux, and a limo, which she found astounding. She looked to Marcus and smiled, thrilled to have her first limo ride.

The only thing Marcus was interested in, however, was her. She looked amazing in his dress. It was a perfect fit. It showed every beautiful part of herself she was too scared to show off by herself. In her hand, she held a single white rose. Marcus took note of her entire outfit, from her shoes to her hair. It was perfect, he couldn't have put a better model in the dress, but he was curious about the rose. "Ans?" He asked, pulling her attention away from the limo. She looked at him, eyes wide. "What is the rose for?" He asked her.

"Oh," she began, "for this." She said, walking closer to him. She placed to a rose on the breast of his suit. "See, now you have a rose that matches my one of a kind dress." She said, smiling up at him. Marcus smiled back down at her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Marcus walked to the car door, his hand on Ansley's back. When he opened the door for her, she once again lost all ability to speak. Marcus walked around the car, getting in the other side. He watched as she took notice of everything she saw. Scared to touch anything, she sat back, turning her gaze to Marcus.

"Mark, this is magical. I feel like the princesses I dreamed of when I was little." She smiled at him, a childish light in her eyes. Marcus was making her dream come true one by one. There was nothing standing in his way of making her feel like the princess she wanted to be.

The tower of London was extravagant. The stonework was breathtaking, leaving Ansley to look at the walls. The light above the door was lit, leading the way inside. The windows were all closed, a light reflecting from each one. Ansley looked from the window. She was biting her lip the way she did when she was pleased with her writing. Marcus was more taken by her beauty, than the beauty of the building.

Marcus opened the door, revealing the building in full before her. Ansley took Marcus' hand, helping her out of the car. As they walked up the stairs, she began to realize where she was and exactly what this night could mean for her. She knew this would be an amazing opportunity for her.

When Ansley stumbled into her flat, assisted by Marcus, she let out a high pitched cheer. Marcus directed her over to her couch, trying to help her lay down. When she was sitting down, he rushed to the kitchen to get her water. Before he would even fill the glass, she began to wander off. She started toward the bedroom, running her hand along the wall for guidance. Marcus ran after her, making sure she didn't hit anything or hurting herself.

Ansley turned on music from her phone and began to jump around the room. Her cheers grew louder. Marcus watched her from the door, laughing at her ridiculous attitude. He only interfered when she began to play with the buttons on her dress.

Marcus walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Marcus ran his hands down her arms, catching her hand with his own. "Let me help you out of the dress." He whispered in her ear. "Where are your pajamas?" He asked her. Ansley pointed to basket in the closet.

Marcus retrieved a matching pair of pants and a shirt. He placed them on the bed, waiting for her to be ready. "Unbutton me," she said, waving her arms in the air. Marcus rolled his eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have let you drink after the party. We should have brought you straight home." He said to himself. He knew she was drunk.

He unbuttoned her dress, helping her take it from her shoulders. Ansley let the dress drop to the floor. Marcus was looking at her bareback, feeling the need to turn around, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Ansley turned to face him, his eyes averting up before he could see anything.
Marus Reached for her pajamas, handing them to her. As she slipped them on she began to talk. "Mark," she whined, "I can't find the armhole. Oh, wait. Nevermind I found it." He had turned his back, hearing her struggle behind him. "I think my pants are backward. Can I have different pants?" She asked, throwing her pants at his back. Marcus went to the closet and found a pair of shorts in the same basket. He handed them to her, carefully avoiding looking at her. "Thanks, babe." She said, leaning on him.

When her shorts were on and she had fully dressed, she began to fumble around the room. "Marcus, Mark. That's my boyfriend's name. He made me this dress." Ansley picked up the dress from the floor, holding it above her head. Marcus walked to the closet and found a coat hanger to place it one. There was a black velvet hanger with a tag stuck to it. "London Gala Gown. Designed by My Marcus." Marcus smiled at the hanger. Her handwriting was perfect. He hung the dress on the hanger and placed it on the hook on the closet door.

"Marcus!" Ansley cheered from behind him. "Let's dance!" She smiled at him. Marcus looked at her, eyes wide. He walked over to her, placing his hand on her hip, holding her other hand in his. He began to sway, her hand holding onto his shirt. She was stumbling, her feet getting caught under her. Marcus gently led her to the bed, attempting to get her there.

When she reached the edge of the bed, she kicked Marcus' leg and fell onto the bed, pulling Marcus down on top of her. She began to laugh at herself. "I fell!" she cheered to herself. Marcus laughed at her, seeing the childish light in her eyes.

Ansley looked up to Marcus. Seeing his smile brought her into a moment. Ansley kissed Marcus, deep, hard, pulling him to her. Marcus kissed her back, trying his best to ignore the taste of alcohol that encased her lips. Ansley used all of her strength to pull Marcus onto the bed, forcing him closer to her. Ansley felt his kisses, pulling her closer to him. She began to tug at his shirt, pulling it up, uncovering his abdomen. Her fingers were cold against her skin.

Marcus kissed her down her neck, sending chills through Ansley. When he reached her chest, he could feel the fabric under his lips. He began to pull at her shirt, wanting to take it off, revealing her bare skin to him. As his finger touched her bare stomach, he felt an instance of guilt rush through him. He immediately stood up. Ansley was laying on the bed, her stomach, unprotected. Her shirt stopped before her chest, covering everything he wanted to see. Marcus walked to the kitchen, leaving her behind him. He found an aspirin in the cabinet and took a bottle of water to her. He placed the aspirin and water on her bedside table.

She had fallen asleep while he was gone. He turned her on her side, placing a pillow behind her so she couldn't rollover. He pulled the covers over her, covering her in warmth. She was so perfect, laying in that bed. Marcus fought the urge to lay with her. Instead, he turned to the door, turning out the lights. As he stood at the doorway, looking in at her, he spoke to himself. "You can't hurt her. She deserves better. You love her, and you will wait." The words he spoke to himself were true. Marcus closed the door, walking back to the living room. He took a pillow and blanket and made himself a spot on the couch.

That night he slept on the couch, listening for her moans or screams. Waiting for a nightmare or for her to wake up, throwing up. Every few hours, he would walk to her room, checking on her. His fear got the best of him, bringing him to worry all night.