over the hills and far away
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Hey lady, you got the love I need
Maybe more than enough
Oh darling, darling, darling
Walk a while with me

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You would not have known that it was spring because of how cold it was. The breeze burned the pale, bare skin on my legs and arms. It's weird how nature contradicts itself. When something is too cold, it burns. I balanced my elbows on top of the intricate balustrade. From the entrance, you could see the shape of my body from behind, leaning seductively in the dark. A cigarette hung to my full pink lips as I distractedly watched the horizon. I could hear voices from inside, but no one came here because the main balcony was a lot more spacious and a lot less dark.

I had so many thoughts, but they were all erased in a flash when a masculine scent intoxicated me. I immediately closed my eyes, allowing the warmth from his nearness to seduce my body into whatever was going on. He never touched me. His hands squeezed the balustrade, trapping my body between his strong arms. He was right behind me, denying me the satisfaction of feeling his figure against mine. His knuckles had turned white from gripping the handrail so tightly, and I could see the reddening of his neck from the corner of my eyes.

His straight nose dug into my hair, inhaling my sweet coconut scent. 'Just touch me'—I couldn't say it out loud. He groaned in frustration, blowing hot air behind my right ear. When he whispered something in that icy tone of his, his unshaved gray beard got tangled in my coconut-scented hair. "You smell nice."

I moved my fingers slowly to the side and gripped his hand as tightly as I could while gasping for air, trying to let go of the tension in my body. I realized that he was also fighting against his instinct as his hand tightened the grip beneath mine. "You shouldn't be here." I whimpered. "What if someone sees us like this?" We weren't doing anything, but from the outside, it sure looked like a secret affair.

"Come dance with me." As I turned to face him and lifted my eyelashes to his light irises, he deflected the previous subject. I released his hand, but he continued to hold the same position: his hand remained firmly on the balustrade, my body was trapped between both of his arms, and his rigid waistcoat was slightly bent due to his hunched stance. His face was now at my level, so I could study his mature features. His smirk made me want to jump him.

"Won't she get jealous?" When I brought up the topic once more, I could see his face relax into a peeved expression. I didn't care. We weren't working then. Pleasing him wasn't an obligation.

"She will. Does it matter?"

"Then I won't dance with you. I don't want trouble."

"You're going to let him fuck you?"

I was incredulous. My cheeks turned red, and he became angry once more. He reached out with his left hand, grabbing my cheeks with a strong squeeze. "Really, you need to stop blushing whenever I bring him up. It's driving me fucking nuts." I had never heard him curse before.

"I'm not blushing because of him." I mumbled in a disoriented tone, hindered by his rough fingers pressing against my skin.

"Are you going to let him fuck you?"

"Maybe."

His Adam's apple traveled from the top to the bottom of his throat. As he grew progressively angrier, a greenish vein protruded, becoming more and more evident. "Mh."

He let me go, and I instinctively lowered my gaze to the ground. "Don't be a hypocrite."

Mr. White glanced at me with those rage-filled eyes, but he knew that he had no right to be jealous, so he stayed quiet. Both of us looked stupid, anyways. How could you possibly be jealous of someone you just met a few days ago?

"Let's go back inside; they're probably looking for us."

I stared intently at him briefly before running back inside. I caught a glimpse of Dawson, who was still chatting with Mr. White's gorgeous wife. They were both oblivious. I, on the other hand, felt as if I had left for hours. Mr. White had that effect on me: every second spent with him felt like years.

"Dawson." I called his name, and the young man turned to me with a smile.

"Audrey. I was just talking about you."

"Dawson told me that you're a very good editor." Mrs. White grinned. "You should work for me sometime."

"Oh..."I adjusted my voice to sound professional and formal. "It would be an honor-" My words were cut short when Sarah Vaughan's version of 'Misty' came on. Everyone in the room stood and moved to the dance floor, and I grabbed my date's arm right away. "I love this song."

"You heard her." Dawson muttered as I dragged him to the dance floor without looking back at Mr. White. I could still see him walking gently to the center of the room, his wife's hand in his. That's when I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around Dawson's neck, and rested my head on his chest. His heart was beating normally, and its rhythm somehow soothed me.

I knew he was looking straight at me, but I didn't want to lose to him.

Rule number one: whatever happens within Mr. White's home should be considered pure fiction by all parties and should never be brought out into the outside world. This was the outside world, and we were nothing but strangers.

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