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Mine. At Last.

A "Romantic" Tale of dancing and Etta James for the 500 Word Shockwave Challenge

By Paul StewartPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
Mine. At Last.
Photo by Preillumination SeTh on Unsplash

At last, we danced across a dancefloor of broken dreams. At last, we danced, though you played hard to get, so nonchalant to my advances. Lured me in as Etta James did sing.

At last, my love has come along. My lonely days are over and life is like a song, the perfect picture of beauty in my arms. Though you acted as though I were just another wannabe suitor, just another flash-in-the-pan, good for just a dance, chancer. I had watched you for long enough from the shadows, unnoticed.

Sensually your skin barely touched mine, sensorially we were locked in the passion and fascination of the marriage of sonic sublimity and subtle, latent sexual non-verbal communication. At last, our bodies were so close to being as one. But as my hands reached for yours behind your slight and curvaceous body that pressed against the glossy fabric of your dress, you reacted like the queen of nonchalance.

At last, we're as close as we've ever been. Though our eyes never meet, the music and Etta's voice carry us along. There are moments that stand out in our lives as important. Sometimes we don't know just how special they are until they're history. Then there are those times when we know from the moment we step into that situation or onto that dancefloor with the most breath-taking woman we have ever set our eyes on, we know it's special. The skies above are blue.

My heart was wrapped up in clover. The night I looked at you.

As we continued to sway an unforgettable slow waltz and I felt goosebumps over my body as if it were on fire, we still did not fully embrace. You were carried by the music, as I was carried by you.

The sweet nothings I whispered in your ear, I wondered how much you really heard, over the music and the revelry of the other dancers. Not that I paid much attention to the other dancers. My eyes had been focused on you for a long time and at last, you would be mine. As form and function flowed, faded and fell away to nothing, nothing but a dance to my destiny. I found a thrill to rest my cheek to. A thrill that I've never known. For a moment, as my fingers caressed your sides, you paused—your breath catching, giving way to the sensations. Your breathing hitched before you started to sway again. I struggled to maintain my footing and take charge of our dance. Our mating ritual.

Oh, and then the spell was cast.

And here we are in heaven.

For you are mine.

At last.

For you never knew I was there, all that time, all that precious time. Your fate was sealed, the hand already played. I swore I'd use my powers of invisibility sparingly.

Then the spell was cast and here we are in heaven. You never knew, never felt. Yet you are mine. For eternity.

MicrofictionLoveMysteryHorrorPsychologicalShort Story

About the Creator

Paul Stewart

Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.

The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!

Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!

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    Written by Paul Stewart