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Your cheeks already feel flushed from the four glasses of champagne you’ve knocked back - or was it five? - since the newly wed couple had performed their opening dance. It’s your older sister’s wedding, and having only just broken up with your boyfriend, you find yourself wallowing in self pity as you watch the pair being disgustingly happy on the dancefloor.
You chug the remainder of your drink, dipping your head in your hands. Sighing, you glance over to your phone. Your ex was supposed to be your plus one, and you aren’t that acquainted with your sister’s friends. Which leaves you at the mercy of your family, to be entertained by their endless drunk chatter about their neighbour’s cousin’s drug scandal and old men’s politics.
You had invited your best friend at the last minute, but she had plans of her own that she couldn’t cancel. So here you are, drunk and alone, bored out of your mind and counting down the minutes until it was socially acceptable to leave.
You watch your old aunt Helen and cousin David retreat to the dance floor, dragging their significant others with them and leaving you to your own devices at the now empty table. You check your glass again, still finding it annoyingly empty. As you grab your little, black purse you stand up, legs wobbling a little from the alcohol now rushing through your veins. You giggle, biting your lip. Hopefully no one is paying attention to the tipsy maid of honour.
“Allow me.” A voice says in next to you, warm and smooth like silk. A hand pushes against the small of your back, keeping your from losing your balance. You turn around and roll your eyes at the newcomer.
“Uh. Thanks, but I- I can take care of myself,” you say, flashing him a 60 kilowatt smile. “I was just getting myself another drink.”
“Actually,” he smiles back, holding up a full glass for you to accept. “I came to bless you with a refill. You look like you need it.”
You scoff, offended by his statement. But not offended enough to refuse the drink. You bring the glass to your lips, smiling as you sit back down. “So you’re trying to get me drunk, is that what you’re saying? Taking advantage of lonely, vulnerable women at a wedding. You should be ashamed.”
He laughs and sits down next to you. “Would it sound better if I said you caught my attention the minute I walked in?” He admits, peering up at you from over his own glass. “I just needed a little liquid courage myself to come over and talk to you.”
You finally allow yourself to look at him - really look at him. Tall, lean, his well toned body hugged by the designer tux he’s wearing. Dark brown hair that you’re sure was supposed to be perfectly styled, but gets more tousled every time he runs his hand through it. His dark brown eyes are soft, and his cheeks are slightly pink, matching yours.
He doesn’t look familiar, which means he’s not from your sister’s side of the party. You rack your brain for any close relatives of the groom that are strictly off-limits, but no one comes to mind. He’s very handsome, you’ll give him that.
You can’t help but smile, a little intrigued. “I am both flattered and a little creeped out.” you say, making him laugh again.
“I solemnly swear I am here with good intentions,” he replies, taking another sip from his drink before standing up again and extending a hand. “Care to dance?”
You look up at him, your eyes flickering from his hand to his sparkling eyes. You down your drink, and reach up to put your left hand in his, squeezing as you lower it to your side. Suddenly you feel energised, spontaneous. His hand engulfs yours perfectly. “Actually, no,” you smile. “Not really.”
Confusion settles on his features. His lips move, but you grab his hand tighter, pulling him with as you walk towards the exit of the ballroom. You spin on your heels, smiling from ear to ear when he follows without protest. Your smile morphs into a grin as you explain, “I don’t feel like dancing, but I know something else we could do.”
The venue for the wedding is somewhere secluded, far away from the city life you grew up in. It’s a beautiful, old mansion with tall ceilings and big, golden chandeliers. Breath-taking baroque paintings and flower patterned floors. It’s surrounded by fields as far as the eye can see.
The sun has started to set, painting the sky with every colour visible to the naked eye. This is your favourite part of the day. When you were younger, you’d climb up to the roof to watch the sun as it slowly retired, chased away by stars. It reminded you how insignificant your pain was. How, in the grand scheme of things, you were nothing but a speck of combined chemical elements created by celestial bodies. It scared and calmed you at the same time.
All you want is to remind yourself that pain is fleeting. That dull ache in your heart is temporary, and right now you are somewhere incredibly beautiful, with someone admittedly equally beautiful, and all you want to do is run. Take him far, far away.
You lead him out of the building, onto the cobble stoned path that leads to the high entrance doors. You’re still holding his hand when you stop at the end of it. He stands beside you, following your gaze as you take in the scenery. “What are we doing?” he asks, softly, as if not wanting to ruin the moment. You only smile at him.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
Your sister chose this spot to get married for a reason. When you were little, your parents would take both of you up to a little cabin in the woods. The property was owned by your family. Being a city kid, you liked nothing more than sitting by the nearby river, listening to the trickling stream and birds singing and let it calm your raging mind. You had always dreamt about one day sharing this place with the love of your life, but at this point you don’t even know if you believe in soulmates anymore. To hell with it.
So here you are. Holding a stranger’s hand, dressed in the most expensive dress you have ever worn, blisters appearing on your feet. You have been walking for almost twenty minutes, and neither of you has said a word. Every now and then you stop, just to cast a glance at the man behind you, and exchange smiles.
The soft pink glow spreading over the horizon makes his skin glow, and suddenly he’s the most beautiful person you have ever seen. You allow yourself to look at him a beat longer, and you can tell he’s feeling it, too. Whatever it is. This moment, this place, it makes your heart swell and your head spin.
“Wait,” he says, stopping you from continuing. He pulls you closer, moving his hand to the small of your back. He lets his eyes wander over your delicate features and smiles as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand cups your face, and for a moment nothing matters but the two of you, skin pressed against skin. “Can I ask where you’re taking me?”
You shake your head, inching your face closer to his. A sigh escapes him as you bring your lips to his ear. “It’s a secret,” you whisper and suddenly your hands are on his chest, pushing him away. He stumbles backwards, watching you turn and break out into a run before him. You kick off your heels, not caring if you’d ever find them again. The grass tickles your feet, and you can hear the mystery man catching up easily. A laugh erupts from your throat as he grabs for your hand again, both of you now running to wherever you lead him.
The end of the field is marked with a barbed wire fence. You used to fit in between perfectly, with those scrawny legs and skinny arms of yours. Now you are wearing a long, velvet dress that cost more than all of your wardrobe combined, and your companion looks like he stepped straight out of a James Bond movie. You look at him, eyes bright and smile wicked.
“We uh- We’re going to need to cross this fence,” you tell him, watching his face. You expect him to protest and stop this madness right here, right now. But he nods and walks up to the edge. He carefully picks at the top wire with one hand, pushing down the others with his shoes.
“Ladies first.”
You grin, hitching up your dress until the fabric hits your thighs. You push one leg through, careful not to catch your hair in the wire above you. You manage to slip your entire body through the gap he’s created. But as you pull up your left leg, the hem of your dress gets caught, making you topple over on the other end of the fence. Your dress rips in the process, leaving a tear up to your thigh.
The wires snap back as the guy is now leaning forward, a hand on his knee and the other covering his mouth trying not to laugh. His body is shaking with unspoken laughter. You snarl at him as you get up, smoothing out your dress. “I’m glad my misery entertains you. Now get your pretty butt over here.”
It only takes another ten minutes for you to reach the edge of the forest. You slow down, beaming at the man beside you. With a tug of your hand, you lead him further, past the pine trees and towards the riverbeds.
You stop to listen to the familiar trickling, bending down to touch the water. The moonlight is reflected in its surface and you allow yourself to lock eyes with the handsome stranger. Your dress is bundled up at your thighs and your hair is now spilling over your shoulders, no longer kept in place by the abundance of bobby pins your hairdresser put in hours before the ceremony. You can see him suck in his breath as he takes in the image, and you smile.
The tight fabric of his tuxedo moves around his thighs, muscles flexing as he bends down to sit next to you. The night is cold, and the soft breeze is leaving goosebumps on your skin. But you don’t care. You have missed this place so much, and you almost cry as the feeling of nostalgia settles in your bones. Then silk engulfs your shoulders, chasing away the cold. You notice he has taken off his jacket, leaving him in only a crisp white button up shirt. His tanned skin still glows in the moonlight, no longer warm and soft but shimmering like the stars overhead.
His hands wrap around your waist, and he pulls you down until you are settled in between his legs. Your head rests on his shoulder, your back pressed against his chest. His warm breath tickles your neck.
“Did you know,” you hum, pulling his jacket around you tighter. “That the stars we are looking at right now, have been dead for almost 400 years?”
He chuckles. “I didn’t take you for a trivia kind of girl.”
You pout, searching for his hand in the darkness. You spread your fingers out against his palm, intertwining them with his. “You don’t know anything about me. I may be an astronaut on leave. Or a cosmic physicist.”
“You mean astronomer.” You pinch his thigh, making him squeal into your ear in surprise.
You suppress a grin. “Don’t mock me. This is my sacred hiding spot, and I will not tolerate any negative energy here.”
He hums into your hair, muttering something you can’t make out. “Do you take all your creepy admirers to your secret hideaways? And here I was thinking I was special.”
The journey here has cleared your head, body void of all alcohol.
“I used to dream about taking my ex-boyfriend here,” you confess. You shift in his lap, pushing your ear to his chest to listen to his steady breathing. “We broke up a few weeks ago. You know, the usual: I was in love, thought he was The One, wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.” You pause. Pain is only temporary, you remind yourself as you push away the ache in your chest.
“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies, understanding. “You are right, I don’t know anything about you. And you don’t owe me that, either.”
You squeeze his hand gratefully. “Do you mind if we just… sit like this for a while?” you ask, voice nearly a whisper. You tilt your head to nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, before pulling away to lock your eyes on his.
“Not at all.”
You have never felt more at peace as you do now. His arms are draped around your shoulders, holding you in place as you gaze at the stars.
He shifts underneath you. “We should probably go,” he whispers. His brown hair falls over his eyes. Something stirs in your stomach. You know he’s right, but you don’t want to leave. Biting your lip you untangle your hands.
“We probably should.”
You both move to stand up again. A drop of water falls onto your nose. Another one hits his shoulder. More drops follow, faster and harder. Your eyes widen, and soon it is pouring with rain. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket. Your hair is already sticking to your face when you speak up, louder to make yourself heard over the noise. “Well. I did not see that coming.”
He doesn’t seem too fazed. His smile is still plastered on his lips as he takes you in from head to toe. You shake your hair out of your face and return the smile. “What?”
Closing the distance between you, he shakes his head. His dress shirt is now soaked, giving you a perfect view of his torso. His hand snakes to your lower back as he cups your cheek.
“I’ll never forgive myself if I let you go like this.”
His lips press down on yours, his mouth warm and wet from the rain. It molds into yours perfectly, as though he was made to kiss you, and only you. His hand moves to the back of your head, entangling your hair as he deepens the kiss.
Suddenly you feel drunk again. He tastes sweet, and you don’t remember experiencing anything this intoxicating.
He pulls back, giving you both room to breathe. You find yourself missing his touch instantly. As you slowly open your eyes, his hand finds yours again.
“Let’s go.”
He breaks out into a run, pulling you with him.