Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Site Write 2013, Entry 30: Even the Losers

He sat, head resting against his hands, watching the street in front of her little nook that one might identify as a home. If one didn't notice the door, they probably would have missed the house, but were they to be looking presently the door would have been the last thing they had looked at. Instead they would be focusing on the man sitting outside, in what they could only guess were his best clothes for such an occasion, and keep walking.


            There were some who slowed as they passed, turning their heads and watching him while they went by, muttering something he couldn't hear among their companions. Nathan Malcolm would offer them a nod and a smile. Some would return it, others gave a sad expression and kept walking. He was hardly surprised.


            As he dwelled on his public shunning of sorts, he found himself understanding it more and more. Even though he had claimed to be guilty of what he had done, he had still done it. And with the way people worked, it had likely gotten blown out of proportion. Not only that, but he had been spared a rather harsh sentence, which a few wanted for him, because of the fact that he was a Loyalist. At least that's how he saw it. With the rebels having some support throughout the city, that made him something of a pariah. But even with that, there was some woman in the city crazy enough to want to be around him. She was sitting inside, getting ready.


            Down the road he could barely hear the sound of music coming from the nearby square, and he could feel his stomach clinch. What sort of thing was he going to be dragging her into for her to be seen with him? Yet he didn't want to even think about what it would be like if she wasn't there. For some reason, that thought was banned from his mind, because he could only imagine it being unbearable. Having to move back out to the countryside with his parents likely would have been an easy way to avoid people, but that wasn't how he wanted to live.


            Behind him he heard the door click open. Standing quickly, he brushed off his pants and turned to look at her, a nervous smile playing on his lips. Staring down at her feet, she smiled nervously herself, “Well?”


            He gulped, tugging at his collar. She was dressed in a deep red dress, the back of which he was fairly certain was nonexistent, her brown hair falling over her left shoulder. Nicole Brenner wasn't wearing any make-up, but to Nathan she didn't need any. Gulping again, he tried to keep his smile on his face, “You look beautiful.”


            Offering a hand, he led her down the step, letting her tuck her arm through his, and off down the road they went. As they drew closer to the square the music grew louder and was joined by the sound of people laughing and talking. They occasionally shot each other glances, followed by their gaze shooting back forward when they each noticed the other doing so. This was followed up by a small smirk.


            When they reached the square itself, they looked around, choosing a spot that wasn't filled around the area where people were dancing. Around them people clapped along with the music, encouraging their friends along as they all danced in the center, while others stood talking amongst others laughing and exchanging quips.


            Nathan let his arm drop to his side, looking around. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over towards her, “Want somethin' to drink or anythin'?”


            She shook her head, looking out to the dance floor before looking back to him, expectantly. A small smirk dwelled for a moment on her lips. “I'm good,” she said, looking back towards the center, “Do you dance?”


            Nate shrugged, hand continuously rubbing the back of his neck, “Kinda? I've learned a few. Mostly slow stuff, though. I ain' got up to stuff like this.” He motioned towards the center, watching the people moving and twirling.


            Nicole nodded, smirking, “Well. At some point we'll have to change that. But I guess I can't drag you out tonight, can I?”


            He bit his lip, shrugging, “I ain't sayin' that, but for right now it might be a good idea. Maybe when it's died down an' there's less folks watchin' and stuff.”


            Around them the music paused for a moment, and the people in the center stopped, some falling around, and the majority of them laughing. The lull in music lasted for only a moment, before it started back up, this time slower, and calmer. Nicole turned to Nathan, grinning horribly. She slowly wrapped her fingers into his hand, pulling him out towards the other dancers.


            “Let’s see how good your word is there, farm boy,” she said playfully.


            Once they had reached the center, she released him. Stepping in front of him, she offered her hand, which he took. He rested a hand on her hip, and her a hand on his shoulder, and they stepped closer to each other. “Okay,” she said, offering a warm smile, “You have the start down.”


            He smirked, “Keep up, and just watch for when I squeeze your hand, eh?” She raised an eyebrow, but nodded without another word.


            From there they followed along with the people around them, steps forward, back, forward, and back. On certain cues in the music, he would twirl her under his arm, and at others a quick lift through the air before placing her back onto the ground. As the song neared its end, he squeezed her hand, and she leaned backwards, allowing him to hold her in the air.


            Their eyes met for a short moment, and he smiled down at her, “Not bad for a farm boy?”


            She shook her head, smiling still. That might as well have made the evening worth it. Without warning, she leaned up, her hand meeting the back of his hands to pull their lips together. He blinked, looking around for a moment. There were a number of people who he could pick out from the crowd watching them, some with impressed looks, others with looks of shock. Nate smiled on the inside, focusing back on his date, pressing into the kiss of his own accord by this point.


            He brought her back to a standing position, stepping back and bowing as he should at the end of the dance, and she curtsied in return, shaking her head, “Not bad for a farm boy at all.”