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The East Room of the White House usually wasn’t open to middle-class citizens for dances, but Ashley had convinced her father to make an exception for you. President Graham had no problems with his daughter bringing her girlfriend over for a dance, but you could tell many of the other patrons didn’t feel the same way.
As you entered the room, you could feel all eyes aimed directly at you, and you could hear faint whispers of “This is the President’s daughter’s girlfriend?” in varying tones from curiosity to disgust. You just kept your chin up and your eyes focused directly on the girl you came here for.
“Welcome!” Ashley called out as she ran over to greet you, “I’m so happy you could make it!” She looked dazzling, wearing an orange sleeveless dress that seemed to sparkle in the light, with matching orange dance shoes. She never wore much makeup, but she had a light coating of blush on her cheeks, and her plush lips were painted with red lipstick.
“Hey Ashley,” you said, trying to block out all of the judgmental looks from the other partygoers as you hugged your girlfriend.
“Just ignore them,” Ashley whispered, evidently sensing your troubled state, “Dad says you’re welcome here, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thanks,” you nodded, giving her a grateful smile.
“Don’t mention it,” Ashley giggled as she pecked your cheek, “Now come on, let’s dance.”
The music started playing and everyone in the room found partners and started dancing. It was a slow piece, one you had never heard before, but it had a nice rhythm to it. Unfortunately, you weren’t exactly the best dancer around, and it took way more effort than you would’ve liked to try and not step on your girlfriend’s feet every ten seconds. Thankfully, Ashley had far more experience in dancing, and she led you throughout most of the dance with far more grace than you could ever muster.
In that moment, with the slow music playing, your fingers intertwined with Ashley’s, and her beautiful green eyes locked with yours, you felt like all was right with the world. Ashley was right, screw what those other people thought. As long as she was with you, there was nothing anyone could do to ruin your mood.
Once the song was over and everyone went back to doing their own thing, Ashley grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the East Room.
“Where are we going?” you asked, “The event’s not over yet.”
“We have a ten-minute break before the next song begins,” said Ashley, opening the door to her room and pulling you inside.
“But what about-,” you started before Ashley wrapped her arms around your shoulders and kissed you fiercely.
“I want you,” Ashley whispered huskily against your lips, “I want you now.”
Who were you to refuse a makeout session with her? You eagerly kissed her back, and pulled her onto her bed. Ashley pinned you down on the covers as she hungrily kissed you over and over and over, her red lipstick smearing against yours.
“Mmm, I love you so much, you know that?” you murmured in between kisses.
“Yeah, but I love you more,” Ashley laughed gently as she went in for yet another kiss, slowly slinking her hands up your dress.
You knew you should probably be keeping track of time to make sure you two wouldn’t be late for the next song, but kissing Ashley took priority over everything else in your mind by default. You didn’t care what those judgmental patrons thought, Ashley meant the world to you, and you meant the same for her.