Page 14 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
I’ve never curtseyed before in my life, but it feels right, like Ella and Kit ending their dance in the live-actionCinderellafilm. He is every inch the gallant prince and every woman deserves a night like this in their lives. It’s so perfect that I’m convinced I’m going to wake up at any moment, because itmustbe a dream.
We’re standing, staring at each other. My eyes haven’t left his since the beginning of the song. The way he’s looking at me is breath-taking, and it makes me feel like my whole body is vibrating with anticipation of the next touch.
He reaches out and runs his fingers through my long, straight hair, a million miles away from my usual curls. His hand lingers, touching it like the Beast touches Belle’s hair when he gives her the magic mirror – as if he’s trying to commit the moment to memory forever. It makes me feel like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
In my real life, I am someone who people look straight through. A seamstress on the edges of their awareness. I listen to instructions, make suggestions, take measurements over and over again, but at the end of the day, what people see are the dresses I make. I’m a side effect of that. Not someone who deserves the level of reverence that he’s bestowing upon me.
His tongue wets his lips and he swallows. ‘Ask me again if I believe in magic.’
The words make my knees go weak. It’s such a simple, beautiful question, and the answer is shown so unflinchingly in his blue eyes. ‘I don’t need to ask.’
That smile again. His eyes and mouth are so expressive that I’ve forgotten so much of his face is obscured. His smile could turn water into something better than wine, like hot chocolate with marshmallows. The kind of smile you can see once and then never, ever forget. Even when you’re ninety, you’ll still be able to picture it every time you close your eyes.
The singer has come back and the next song that reaches us from the window below is ‘Once Upon a Dream’ fromSleeping Beauty, fitting considering I’m convinced thisisa dream.
‘I love this song,’ I whisper, and he steps closer, puts his hand on my waist and pulls me tight against his body. It starts off as a waltz again, but I’m enjoying the closeness so much that I relax in the solid cage of his arms, my fingers brushing his shoulder and running down his arm. ‘Got to appreciate Disney teaching a caveat to the traditional lesson of not talking to strangers you meet in the woods… unless they’re good-looking.’
It makes him laugh again. ‘You’re dancing with a stranger tonight.’
‘Doesn’t feel like it though, does it?’ My mouth is almost too dry to speak.
He swallows hard enough to hear, which is all the answer I need.
It feels like the stars from the sky have fallen down and are sparkling between us and I move in a way I never thought possible. I float rather than step. I’m dainty and elegant rather than clumsy and tomboyish. Time loses all meaning. Nothing outside of his bright eyes and his smile is important now.
I lean back in his arms as he spins us around, my arms extended, elegant like a swan, the dress moving with me, creating a momentum that makes it feel as though we’re gliding.
I’m dizzy in the best way possible when we slow down, giddy with the sheer joy of how good it feels and intoxicated by his smile as we unsteadily wobble back into a normal waltz.
‘What you said earlier about wearing a mask,’ he murmurs. ‘Doyouwear a mask?’
‘More than you could ever know.’ It’s the first time I’ve admitted that out loud and it makesmerealise how true it is. Life is nothing like I expected it to have turned out, and a night like this makes me realise that something has got to change.
‘Me too.’
‘You?’ I look up at him. Tall, gallant and good-looking. ‘You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d need to pretend to be something you’re not.’
‘I think… pretendingnotto be something I am… is a better fit.’
I feel those words in my soul.
‘And yet, I feel like I’m not wearing one tonight. Ironic, really.’ He gestures to the mask on his face.
‘Me too.’ If ever there was a night for unflinching honesty, this is it. And there’s something about him. I get the feeling he’ll know if I pretend otherwise, and for once, I don’t want to be anyone other than myself. Even though I’m as dressed up as I’ve ever been, I feel as exposed as if he could see inside me. ‘In real life, I’m invisible. I exist on the side-lines and blend into the background, watching life go by without me.’
‘That can’t be right.’ He smiles down at me. ‘You’re the most memorable thing I’ve ever seen.’
He’s trying to be nice, but he’s unintentionally reinforced what I was saying. Mydressis the most memorable thing he’s ever seen. But me? He hasn’tseenme.
‘But I get it,’ he adds. ‘In my real life, I’m a middleman between people and… a thing.’ He clearly can’t elaborate without giving too much away. ‘People only see the thing. The middleman is overlooked. Forgotten. I fade into the background like I was never there.’
‘I get that more than you know. I’m a middleman too. Well, middle-woman. I create… a thing, and people only see the thing, not the person behind it. And that’s always been okay with me, I’m not a “front-and-centre” type of person, but I wish… There are certain people in my life who I wish would listen to me and take my ideas seriously. I’m not very good at putting things into words and asking for what I want.’
His answering smile is full of understanding. ‘Words are my problem too. In my head, sophisticated and articulate. In my mouth…’ He makes a noise of a splutter crossed with stepping in a sludgy puddle and pulls a face that makes me laugh. ‘Can I just say that you are… spectacular, and anyone who doesn’t value you… well, that’s a reflection on them, not you.’
How can you go from laughing to the verge of tears in three quarters of a second? ‘Thank you.’ I say the words so quietly that he has to lip read.
We’ve drifted closer, and we’re not doing any kind of proper dance now. His hands are on my hips and mine are around his neck, just swaying to the music as the song reaches its final note, and there’s a lull while the singer downstairs starts the next request.
