London, at Calridge’s


Louis was greeting people, strangers, business partners, celebrities and only a few friends. His fiancée Christelle de Lacroix had planed the entire engagement party. From the guest list to the flower arrangements. He was bored and felt useless. He didn’t want to be here. Only his family wanted him to. At least his friends were here. But Harry was more absorbed with the new girl he brought. He was also playing mind-games with his futur wife. These two were just the same, she should have just married Harry instead of him. However the girl, the one he held on tight, he recognised her. She was a professional ballet dancer, a Prima Ballerina, according to the conversation he overheard. The gossip was already all over the room. He knew Christelle wouldn’t be happy about it. Tonight was supposed to be about her.


She’s Eleanor’s friend, her dance partner! Suddenly he remembered. He saw their chemistry on stage, the feelings and expressions. The trust between the two, the synchronised movements. She had spent the evening with the boys at Niall’s Opening Night of Swan Lake. Why was she here? How was Eleanor feeling after he told her the news yesterday night. Was she angry, understanding, sad, in disarray? He had to ask her. Nobody would know about it. He didn’t want Christelle to know he asked about another woman at their engagement party. He could already hear her say in her icy voice: “How are we going to deal with such outrageous behaviour?”. He didn’t care. Not when his true happiness was shattered.


Slowly, the man made his way through the sea of people. Trying not to be obvious. He knew in only a matter of minutes somebody would be asking for him. Usually something stupid, as a signature, advice or just a call. She just went out to the balcony. Finally loose from Harry’s constant grasp. He had finally crossed the room as something else caught his attention. Walking down the marble stairs. A golden halo around her. The long pearly dress, swiftly touching the floor. Brown wavy hair loose in a side fish tail. Her brown eyes glowing with sorrow and excitement. Eleanor.


He looked at her with amazement, beaming with happiness. She was the only person he wanted to see. The petite, strong body he loved and adored. Eleanor caught his glance and slightly blushed. She was so full of life. But something was sad about her posture. He had seen it before. In her white swan Odette two nights ago. Dismay and sorrow veiled by short lasting happiness. She looked at him as if she just realised how big her mistake was. Her blood-shot eyes crying. Long black lashes slowly chasing the tears. A long sight escaping her rosé lips. Her fair cheeks red and burning. She turned around and went back upstairs. Her lonely back, facing Louis. With rushed steps she disappeared.


He just stood there. Also on the verge of crying, unable to follow her. Trapped in this fancy world. His way upstairs, denied. No more stolen kisses, and warm hiding places. Only his tensed lips, stern look, balled fist. Baring loveless stories. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to hold her, tell her it was only a bad dream. Kiss and caress her. Smooth her hair. Tickle her until she smiles. Make a bad joke to have her laugh. Tell he loves her… But he couldn’t, he couldn’t move, he never had. He flet cornered. How ironic he thought. He could have everything in the world. Money, wealth, status, power… Everything except the girl he loved. And she didn’t even know how he felt about her. He had to protect from his tumultuous world. The calculated acts and urge for power. Holding the highest status.


He remembered their last embrace. The wet kisses. The firm grasp. Her delicate breast and silky hair. The tension and love. The electricity between the two. The unbearable wait. The long glances, filled with emotions. The hidden smiles and open laughs. Hidden touches. Every palpation making his heart go wild. The hushed meetings. The hard table and the soft sheets. Her screaming his name. Looking at him with her bright eyes. Kissing her fair neck down to her clavicule. Slowly loving her. Carful as with an angel. Softly entering her heart.


“- Go.”


Startled, Louis turned around. It was his best friend. Harry. He knew better then anybody else. His eyes widened and tried to say:


“- You..”


He just looked at him with his usual smirk on his face. His heartless friend, what a joke. He knew better than anyone, how much this would hurt. This was only going to end in heartbreaks. But right now he didn't care.


“- I’ll cover for you. Don’t worry. Just go.”, he said again with a hushed voice.


Only with a glance Louis showed him his gratitude and ran after his beloved.

Notes

Hey people, since I never update I decided to write 2, since I finally have a bit time for myself :p

Thanks a lot for reading

Hope you enjoy it

LOVE YOU ALL

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