chapter 22: sway

Mark, wearing a black suit, opened the back door to the shiny black limousine as soon as August stepped out of the hotel.

"I am assuming you are the infamous August?" he announced as she drew near.

"I'm not sure about infamous, but I am August," she said, seeing his features more clearly as she approached. She noticed that he looked the same way that Jerry, Mr. Bennigan, and all the kitchen workers looked—polite but terrified somewhere behind those fancy uniforms and genial smiles.

She slid into the back of the limousine as Mark chuckled to her response. She watched him close her door and slide into the driver's seat. "It'll be about twenty minutes, more or less," he told her, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

August nodded in response, pushing her hair behind her ears as she looked around the spacious backseat of the limousine. She felt silly, as if she was playing pretend and none of it was even real. She would've never imagined, when she was tied to Willow's passenger seat and being abducted and taken halfway across the country, that she would be doing what she was doing then—dressed up on her way to a fancy ball in a limousine. A smile tugged on her lips at the thought of it all. That's what she was learning to do—laugh at the absurdity rather than dwell on it. She hoped Willow would learn to do the same.

Her fingers felt the fabric of her velvety dress as she watched the passing trees out the window as they drove down the driveway and out onto the highway. The trees eventually disappeared, so she just watched the full moon cast a luminescent glow over the Utah desert. They eventually passed the rock formation that her and Willow had visited, remembering how the cool but not too cool water felt on her fingers. She also remembered the warmth that flooded her cheeks when Willow told her she was going to protect her. She sighed, squeezing together the velvet folds of her skirt.

Twenty minutes passed, with no words from the chauffeur, and August began to become a bit worried. She didn't know this man—he could have been taking her anywhere. She was far from wherever Willow's protection was, as far as she was concerned; and this was a cause for great concern.

She was about to start really freaking out right as they pulled up to a large building with lots of people around, much to August's partial relief and partial dismay. She was glad that Mark proved to be an honest man by not kidnapping her, but she dreaded seeing all those people and even worse, being seen by them.

Mark quickly but gracefully got out of the limo and opened her door, saying, "We have arrived, madam."

August placed her hand on the handle of the limousine door for support, taking one step out and steadying herself before letting her other heel touch the asphalt road that they were parked on. She gazed over the yard and felt relief at seeing that they were right in front of a sidewalk that stretched all the way to the front of the building. It was quite a long way to walk in heels, but she was thankful it would be on concrete rather than ground.

"Thank you," she quietly told Mark as he got back into his limo, smiling at the girl before driving off.

August took a deep breath, feeling the cold December air nip at her ankles. She hadn't been outside at all except for that day on the roof, and it was during the middle of the day. It was now nighttime and twenty degrees cooler.

But she reveled in the cold. She loved the way it numbed the rabbit in her chest, or at least sedated him, for he only lightly thumped against her ribcage this evening. But as she walked down the sidewalk, passing many leering people who stared at her as if she were a sore thumb, the rabbit began to wake up.

Shadows danced across her figure as she walked under a few sparse trees that lined the sidewalk, interrupting the moon's unwavering gaze on her. She wanted to quicken her pace so she could finally be inside the building and away from the sharp cold that was now rattling her bones, but her heels limited her speed.

She finally reached the steps of the building, struggling to get up the dozen or so steps in her heels. Her feet were already aching and she hadn't even made it through the front door yet. Gazing up at the pillars that lined the front of the building, August's fingers found their way to a loose string on the waistband of the dress, but she resisted pulling on it considering it wasn't her dress and she didn't want to accidentally unravel the entire thing.

A man in the same uniform that the chauffeur wore opened the tall wooden front door for her, giving her a large smile. "Good evening, Miss August." He bowed his upper half down slightly.

She smiled at him, thanking him for opening the door as she stepped through it and wondered how that man knew her name. Reveling in the warmth of inside the building, she was greeted with a sweet smell. Looking around the room, she realized it must have been some sort of lobby to wherever the ball was actually being held, this lobby being much smaller than the hotel lobby. There was Christmas garland lining the trim of the ceiling, even going up the railing of the staircase to her right. She saw a small Christmas tree wrapped in gold lights that complimented the tan wallpaper. Her eyes landed on the table next to the tree where rows and rows of cookies and macaroons sat, along with a pitcher of milk and a pitcher of water.

She looked around and, seeing that the lobby was completely empty, walked to the table with her eye set on a chocolate chip cookie. She picked it up, surprised that it was still warm against her fingers. She took a bite and immediately loved the homemade taste of it.

Taking another bite and about to make love with the cookie right then and there, her sweet endeavors were interrupted by a man's voice.

"Miss August!" exclaimed an older man with a black tuxedo on, walking towards the girl.

August immediately dropped the half-eaten cookie on the table and began to back away, her eyes wide with fright. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know—they just were right there and it lo-looked good so I—"

"No, dear," chuckled the man with thinning white hair. His voice was raspy but endearing. "Sorry for affrighting you; I just hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!"

August sighed with relief. She momentarily felt silly for thinking she would get executed for eating a cookie, but she remembered that that wouldn't be too out of the gang's character. "N-No, you didn't."

"Good!" He walked over to her, placing a gentle hand behind her shoulder. "Come now, dear. The party's already started!"

He led her the down the spacious hallway he had emerged from, stopping in front of two tall, wooden doors. Pulling them open by their doorknobs, August's eyes widened at the sight before her.

There was an enormous Christmas tree that reached the very top of the ballroom which was nearly as tall as a small cathedral. The room was carpeted a deep red color with many floral designs, one half of the room filled with round tables with white tablecloths and candles, the other half being open space which she presumed was for dancing. There were people sitting at the tables, people slow dancing with their partners, and people even walking along the balcony overhead that was supported by tall, narrow arches that went from floor to ceiling. She assumed they got there by the staircase she saw in the lobby. Her eyes then trailed further along the ceiling, noticing that there were about four large, gold chandeliers hanging over her head. They shimmered with light, and August reveled in the red and gold theme of the place.

She turned and realized that the man who led her there was gone. Turning back around, she took a few small steps on the carpet, glad that it was carpet rather than a wooden floor she could possibly slip on in the heels. She stopped, not knowing where she was supposed to go. She looked for Willow, not seeing her anywhere in the crowd. Worry began to eat away at her.

The worry dissolved when she saw those familiar eyes and a tall figure stand up from one of the tables. Her heart stopped, seeing that Willow was dressed in a black suit without a tie and her blazer left open, her white blouse underneath slightly see-through. Even from across the room she could see the color of the woman's olive skin through the white shirt. Her raven hair was pulled up into a French twist, and even from a distance August could see that the woman put on makeup for the first time since she had met her, her eyes looking sharper and more defined than usual.

The two women simply stared at each other across the room, and as August began taking small steps towards her, Willow saw more clearly the girl's appearance. She was absolutely ravishing. Her heels made her slim legs look more toned than usual, something that incited a quiet sigh from Willow. She watched the girl's velvety black skirt sway around her legs, her thin waist looking fit under the tight waist of the dress. Her hair was pinned back in a way that Willow found insanely adorable, and her lips looked even more kissable in a crimson tint. Soon the girl was right in front of her, staring at her through her long lashes with her navy blue eyes that were lined with silvery eyeshadow. She noticed that the girl was significantly taller than usual, but she still stood an inch or two below her.

"August..." she breathed, reaching out and taking both of her hands in hers. "You look..." She found herself nearly out of breath. The girl looked so absolutely stunning that it made her heart race in her chest, a feeling she hardly felt. She thought at first that she was having a heart attack. "Beautiful," she finished with a whisper, smiling and showing her dimples to the girl.

August felt her rosy cheeks burn at the woman's words. "Do you need CPR or something?" August smirked, eyeing the woman with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Willow's supple lips formed a devilish smirk that August couldn't take her eyes off of. She came closer to the girl, snaking her arm around her waist and bringing her mouth to her ear. August felt shivers run down her spine as the woman whispered, "No, I prefer mouth-to-mouth."

Blushing, August's eyes flickered up to Willow's green ones, and she smiled. She felt a comfort in feeling Willow's arm around her, and in the way she was acting around the girl. She loved it. She loved the way Willow looked at her now in comparison to when they first met. She no longer felt a fear for the woman, but a safety. She knew it was dangerous, and she knew there were so many "what if's" about the situation; but the way her heart fluttered as the woman leaned down to place a soft kiss on the girl's lips told her that there was nothing else she would rather be doing in the whole world than being in Willow's arms and feeling her face so close to hers, kissing her with such gentleness.

Willow's lips buzzed while they were pressed to the girl's soft, puckered ones, and they buzzed even as she pulled away and looked down at the girl with a smile. August swore she could see fireworks in the woman's light eyes, or maybe they were going off in her own. Either way, it was like the whole world had disappeared and left just the two of them, stuck in the molten grasp of each other's irises.

Their world was interrupted by a raucous voice. "Aye, looks like ye went head-first into some red velvet cake, Miss!" Darragh exclaimed, putting his rough hand on Willow's shoulder. August almost didn't recognize him without his green bandana.

Willow threaded her eyebrows together in confusion before wiping her mouth, bringing her hand back in front of her face to see that she had some of August's red lipstick smudged across her fingertips.

August chuckled, deeming it cute as Willow sheepishly wiped her mouth to get the lipstick off. "Is mine messed up?" she asked her.

Willow's eyes flickered to her lips, shaking her head before darting her eyes back to Darragh. "You look like you went belly-first into a keg of beer, my man." She pressed her hand against his beer belly that poked out of his suit. He just laughed heartily along with her.

"You clean up real nice, Darragh," August told him, soothing Willow's playful insult.

"As do you, me lady," he responded, bowing his head down for a moment. He turned back to Willow and passed her a wink, looking back to the girl before turning and walking away.

Willow shook her head, pushing her hands into her pockets. "I swear I think sometimes I let those bastards get too comfortable."

"They adore you, Willow," August said with a smile. "As do I." She eyed her with a shimmer in her metallic blue eyes.

"Oh, is that right?" Willow turned, holding out her elbow for the girl to take.

August looked at her stance, comparing it to the way she had sharply grabbed her upper arm when they first arrived to Utah days ago. Now the woman was not being harsh or forceful; she was being inviting and polite. She was actually giving August the option to decline, showing that she had developed a respect for the girl finally.

Smiling, August wrapped her hand around Willow's elbow and held on while the taller woman guided her towards a handful of familiar people. She saw Cornelia and a short-haired woman hanging onto her tatted elbow, both women wearing long, shimmery dresses.

Cornelia, who was chatting to Ronnie about something, shifted her attention directly at Willow and then to August. "Good evening, Miss, August," she greeted both of them, bowing her head slightly.

"Good evening, Cornelia and Macy," Willow respectfully greeted both of them, returning her bow.

August caught sight of wedding rings on both the women's ring fingers, confirming her thoughts that Macy was Cornelia's wife. This brought a small smile to her lips as she gripped Willow's elbow tighter.

"Lookin' snazzy, Will," Ronnie spoke, reaching out and shaking Willow's free hand before turning his hand towards August, the girl quickly reaching her hand out to shake his. "And you, too, August. You finally look old enough to have been smackin' lips with Will just a second ago."

August playfully rolled her eyes, looking away as she felt her cheeks tinge with embarrassment.

"You know, it was foolish of me to think any of my men would even make an effort to act right tonight," Willow said, shaking her head before greeting Ronnie's wife.

August stayed on Willow's arm the entire night, watching as the woman met with the leaders of the other gangs. But no matter how many handshakes and side hugs, she never pulled her arm away from the girl. August sort of hid behind the woman's shadow, only smiling when smiled at and only speaking when spoken to. She noticed how Willow was even respected by other gangs and their leaders, as it seemed she was the center of attention and everyone in the room wanted to talk to her, meaning August was getting attention right alongside her. Luckily for her, Willow did all the talking.

After about an hour and a half of conversation, Willow sighed and leaned over into August's ear. "I'm pretty tired of all this."

August looked up at her and nodded. "When are we going to go home?"

Willow's lips tugged slightly upwards at the way August used the word "home." Although she didn't want the girl to grow attached to that hotel in Utah, it still made her feel fuzzy inside that she considered leaving with her as "going home."

"Soon."

They were strolling arm-in-arm along the tables, Willow giving quick smiles to the ones she hadn't greeted yet, but not bothering to actually talk to them. Her social gas tank was running empty.

There had been soft Christmas music playing all night, but suddenly the lights in the ballroom dimmed, the massive Christmas tree being the main source of glowing light in the huge room, and the volume of the music turned up. White Christmas streamed through the air, and couples got up from the tables to start dancing.

Willow removed her arm from August for the first time the entire night, extending her hand out with a soft smile. "Care to dance, my lady?"

"Oh, so I'm your lady now?" August asked with a quirked eyebrow as she slid her hand onto Willow's familiar, soft one.

"That's what I was hoping," Willow quietly said, her dimples popping out from her cheeks as she gave August a smirk.

Holding the younger girl's hand, Willow led her to the front of the Christmas tree, a spot where no one else was. She slid her arm around the girl's waist and kept holding her hand, raising it up in the air as they started to sway.

"I have never danced before, by the way," August told the woman, looking up at her with slight nervousness.

"It's okay, you've only stepped on my feet twice by now," Willow responded with a laugh.

"Oh my gosh, really?" August stepped back a little bit, looking down at her heels. She hadn't even felt herself stepping on Willow's feet.

"Don't worry about it, babe," Willow chuckled, pressing her hand down on August's lower back to pull her closer to her again. There was no space between them as Willow led their slow sway. "These dress shoes are extremely thick, so I didn't even feel it."

August nodded, but all she could think about was the way Willow called her "babe." She knew it was stupid and silly of her to feel so many bubbles and fireworks inside of her at hearing that simple term of endearment, but she couldn't help it.

Willow looked down at the girl in her arms, and August looked up at the woman holding her. A smile grew on both of their faces immediately, and they didn't have to ask each other why they were smiling. They just knew. So they kept silently swaying along to the old Christmas song, but their eyes and hearts were saying a million different words at once.

"Will's certainly whipped," Darragh spoke, biting into a pink macaroon. "Never seen the woman smile like that, let alone let anyone that close to her." He watched from his table as the two women swayed slower than everyone else in the crowd of dancers.

Patrick gulped down the last of his champagne. "Well, I think it's quite sad, considering what Will knows she has to do."

Darragh looked over at Ronnie and his wife who had a black spade tattooed on her right pinky. His eyes then averted to Cornelia's wife, who had a black spade tattooed behind her ear in front of her short brown strands. His eyes returned to August, who was tattoo-less. "She could get the tattoo," he spoke, turning to Patrick with a seriousness. "But that would take longer than it takes for Rick to—"

"Enough," Patrick stopped him, placing his hand in the air as he stood up. "All we can do is wish them the best. Let's not put a damper on this night."

Darragh nodded, looking into his glass of fizzy champagne and then back at the two women. Sympathy was clear in his eyes.