Post by silent.lullaby on May 13, 2010 12:31:28 GMT -5
Cavort:
1.To bound or prance about.
2.To have lively or boisterous fun; to behave in a high-spirited, festive manner.
Gaucherie:
1.A socially awkward or tactless act.
2.Lack of tact; boorishness; awkwardness.
Glower:
1.To look or stare angrily or with a scowl.
2.An angry or scowling look or stare.
Torrid:
1.Violently hot; drying or scorching with heat; burning; parching; as, "torrid heat."
2.Characterized by intense emotion; as, "a torrid love affair."
3.Emotionally charged and vigorously energetic; as, "a torrid dance."
Mendacious:
1.Given to deception or falsehood; lying; untruthful; as, a mendacious person.
2.False; untrue; as, a mendacious statement.
**************
"Grace?"
She turned peering over her shoulder with the brightest baby blues imaginable, they captivated him like a sailor at sea. "Hello Cole." His heart fluttered, she had remembered his name. "It's nice to see you again."
They had met once before, the last time he'd come back from overseas to one of these dances for the soldiers. He'd seen her and he knew he wanted to be with her. For now though, he still had a war to fight, but tonight, he wanted her to be his. Just one night, he could live with that for now. One night to cavort, show her a good time and maybe she'd remember more than just his name next time.
He stepped up to her and brushed away a long stray of dark red hair. “It’s been too long.”
She glowered at him for a moment, her bright blues turning like ice. “Maybe you should leave for so long then.” Her face softened as she sighed and pushed a wrinkle from his grey vest, “but I suppose that is too much to ask. Men of honour.”
“One day I’ll be back, for good.”
She smiled, “yes, one day.” She took his hand, his calloused fingers wrapping around her soft, perfectly manicured hand. She gave him a tug towards the door, “come with me, I know it’s absolutely torrid outside, but the view of the lake is absolutely stunning I assure you that.”
At that moment, Cole would have gone anywhere with the beautiful Grace. Since she wished to go stand by the lake, he would go with her. After all, he just couldn’t let a pretty little thing like that go out alone.
They walked over the rocks, and over the sand, she took off her shoes and ran forward, stopping as the waves licked her feet, she giggled, “look,” she pointed upward at the stars, they were bright shining, flickering, the moon allowed him to see her face and he could see the joy sparkling in her eyes. She was as far from being mendacious as one could be.
Now out of shoes and socks himself he rolled up the bottom of his pants and joined her, feet just in the water before it went out again, another wave crashed against their calves, burying their feet for a moment, she smiled up at him. “No gaucherie” she said with a smile, “I doubt you’ve ever been awkward with the ladies.”
“I do my best miss.”
She sighed and looked up at him grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “Just kiss me already.”
1.To bound or prance about.
2.To have lively or boisterous fun; to behave in a high-spirited, festive manner.
Gaucherie:
1.A socially awkward or tactless act.
2.Lack of tact; boorishness; awkwardness.
Glower:
1.To look or stare angrily or with a scowl.
2.An angry or scowling look or stare.
Torrid:
1.Violently hot; drying or scorching with heat; burning; parching; as, "torrid heat."
2.Characterized by intense emotion; as, "a torrid love affair."
3.Emotionally charged and vigorously energetic; as, "a torrid dance."
Mendacious:
1.Given to deception or falsehood; lying; untruthful; as, a mendacious person.
2.False; untrue; as, a mendacious statement.
**************
"Grace?"
She turned peering over her shoulder with the brightest baby blues imaginable, they captivated him like a sailor at sea. "Hello Cole." His heart fluttered, she had remembered his name. "It's nice to see you again."
They had met once before, the last time he'd come back from overseas to one of these dances for the soldiers. He'd seen her and he knew he wanted to be with her. For now though, he still had a war to fight, but tonight, he wanted her to be his. Just one night, he could live with that for now. One night to cavort, show her a good time and maybe she'd remember more than just his name next time.
He stepped up to her and brushed away a long stray of dark red hair. “It’s been too long.”
She glowered at him for a moment, her bright blues turning like ice. “Maybe you should leave for so long then.” Her face softened as she sighed and pushed a wrinkle from his grey vest, “but I suppose that is too much to ask. Men of honour.”
“One day I’ll be back, for good.”
She smiled, “yes, one day.” She took his hand, his calloused fingers wrapping around her soft, perfectly manicured hand. She gave him a tug towards the door, “come with me, I know it’s absolutely torrid outside, but the view of the lake is absolutely stunning I assure you that.”
At that moment, Cole would have gone anywhere with the beautiful Grace. Since she wished to go stand by the lake, he would go with her. After all, he just couldn’t let a pretty little thing like that go out alone.
They walked over the rocks, and over the sand, she took off her shoes and ran forward, stopping as the waves licked her feet, she giggled, “look,” she pointed upward at the stars, they were bright shining, flickering, the moon allowed him to see her face and he could see the joy sparkling in her eyes. She was as far from being mendacious as one could be.
Now out of shoes and socks himself he rolled up the bottom of his pants and joined her, feet just in the water before it went out again, another wave crashed against their calves, burying their feet for a moment, she smiled up at him. “No gaucherie” she said with a smile, “I doubt you’ve ever been awkward with the ladies.”
“I do my best miss.”
She sighed and looked up at him grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “Just kiss me already.”