He followed her gaze above them. The white berries of the mistletoe hung peacefully, winking like cultured pearls in their nest of green leaves. He looked quickly back to Miss Skovgaard, overcome by the need to apologize again, to let her know he hadn't done so intentionally. But her gaze, wide and blue was distant, almost as if she'd been suddenly taken somewhere else.
But then suddenly she was looking at him, and everything seemed to melt away; the music in the background faded to almost a buzz. With as close as they were, he could see a faint flutter just underneath the skin below her jawline - her heartbeat. He could feel his own fluttering in his chest as he ached to know what she was thinking, staring up at the bushel of mistletoe.
It struck him that even in the small space, she looked rather ethereal. The branches of the massive tree combined with the decorations of tree seemed to diffuse the glow of the light, and the wall behind Miss Skovgaard was speckled with splashes of colors filtering in through the ornaments and made everything seem rather hazy. Or perhaps it was just how close he could feel her, almost pressed against him, or maybe it was the warmth of the ballroom, or that they'd just danced, or the cacophony of noise that had melted away, or maybe it was how badly he ached to —
Bad luck not to...
It was all that he needed.
His hand came up, fingers lacing into her hair as his palm rested on her cheek. His other hand found her waist, and pulled her into him and closing what little space that was between them but that they needed to be rid of. And then he softly, gently, tenderly pressed a kiss onto her lips.
But then suddenly she was looking at him, and everything seemed to melt away; the music in the background faded to almost a buzz. With as close as they were, he could see a faint flutter just underneath the skin below her jawline - her heartbeat. He could feel his own fluttering in his chest as he ached to know what she was thinking, staring up at the bushel of mistletoe.
It struck him that even in the small space, she looked rather ethereal. The branches of the massive tree combined with the decorations of tree seemed to diffuse the glow of the light, and the wall behind Miss Skovgaard was speckled with splashes of colors filtering in through the ornaments and made everything seem rather hazy. Or perhaps it was just how close he could feel her, almost pressed against him, or maybe it was the warmth of the ballroom, or that they'd just danced, or the cacophony of noise that had melted away, or maybe it was how badly he ached to —
Bad luck not to...
It was all that he needed.
His hand came up, fingers lacing into her hair as his palm rested on her cheek. His other hand found her waist, and pulled her into him and closing what little space that was between them but that they needed to be rid of. And then he softly, gently, tenderly pressed a kiss onto her lips.