The Golden Girl

 The Golden Girl

 

            Alexander was standing in the corner of the ballroom, watching the men and women dance to the music of the orchestra. All the men were wearing tuxedos, and the women wore floor-length dresses, in all shapes and colors. Some were blood red, some were as pink as a rose in mid summer, and some were the deepest or lightest of blues. The announcer at the top of the grand staircase was still yelling at the top of his lungs as people entered the room. I did not pay attention the people entering, for they were in no interest of me.

 

            “Lady Madison Light,” that name dragged my attention to the staircase.   

I had grown up with a Madison Light, and I had not seen her since I moved away, and come here, to London.

 

            The girl at the top of the staircase was wearing a floor-length dress with a gold swirling pattern on black. The cut of the dress fit tightly around her stomach and breasts, and billowed out at the waist. The neckline was rounded upwards and the dress was sleeveless. Her hair was dark and up in an elegant twisting bun with curling tendrils of hair hanging by the side of her face. There was no need for make-up; she was already the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I knew that face well. This was she. My Madison Light.

 

            She descended the stairs, and walked over to a group of laughing girls in the corner. Every man had hungry eyes on my little neighbor, and every woman in the room had hatful eyes on this young, fragile, girl. Her friends were making her swirl for them, hugging her, kissing her cheek, and making her look in every direction, pointing out the envious women in the room.

 

            While turning away from a particularly envious Portia Green, her eyes rested in me, and she smiled. I started to walk towards her, and she blushed. She looked back at her friends, and her friends scuttled away. When I got to Madison she was blushing deeply, and she was looking ay the floor. I lifted my hand in a gesture of invitation to dance, and took it.

 

            As we walked onto the dance floor I saw her friends in the corner of the room, watching us while smiling and giggling. We reached the dance floor and the music slowed to a soft lullaby. As we swayed back and forth she laid her head on my shoulder, and I kissed her hair.

 

            “When you moved,” she said quietly, “I thought I had lost you forever.”

 

            “Why an earth would you think that?” I said back to her. I had never stopped loving her, and she knew that. I hoped she would be here, so I was prepared. We were both twenty now, and legal adults, so I checked my pocket for that diamond ring I always kept, just for her.

 

            “You moved, for good, and you never wrote, nor called.”  She was crying now.

 

            “I will not leave you for the rest of your life, I swear it.”

 

            “And how do you intend to do that,” she said lifting her head to look into my deep brown eyes.

 

            “Marry me,” I said pulling her close.

 

            “Of course! Yes, I will marry you!”  She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I could feel her tears of joy running down her cheeks, and her full lips forming a smile under mine. We danced our way over to the side of the room, and she sat in my lap as I sat in the chair. I rested my hand on her back, and felt the silkiness of the dress.

 

            “Here,” I said reaching in my pocket and pulling out the diamond ring. The ring had a golden band and a ring of diamonds the size of small beads. She gasped, and held out her left hand as I slid the ring on her finger. The ring fit perfectly, as if it were made just for her hand. She threw herself at me and kissed me over and over again. I held her close and vowed never to let her go.

 

            “Your friends are watching,” I said against her lips.

 

            “They can cope. I am more happy than I have ever been in my entire life, and I don’t care who knows it!”

 

            I was melting with her words, her sent, and her touch. She was the most precious thing in the world to me, and now she was in my arms, with my ring on her finger. She was mine forever. I rose and she rose too. We left the ball room, with eyes still on 

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems, what do you think of the dialogue, etc.