Darling & Commander

The Nymph: 12

Gallaleigha POV:

My heart thuds against my rib cage harder and harder with each passing moment I stare at Brock. His navy blue suit looks absolutely phenomenal in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, and I truly do not understand why he does not have more suitors at his doors. 

"You," I breathe. "Look absolutely incredible."

Brock bursts into a guttural laughter, clutching his side.

"What?" I ask, annoyed a little at his ruination of our moment.

"Oh, do not be annoyed, I apologize..." His laughter dies off as he shakes his head with remorse. "It is just... you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met. I think I ceased breathing for a moment."

I feel heat flood my cheeks.

"Oh, please, you are the real handsome one..." Nerves reconcile in my stomach. "You shall have all the fair ladies adhering and persisting to you all evening."

"Galla." Brock grips my chin to force my eyes into his. "You are the only fair lady I want. I am trapped by you. Your beauty is celestial, your eyes liquid starlight. Your lips, these lips..."

He pulls them apart with a brush of his thumb, stroking the bottom lip with care.

"These allure me to you... every glance at you leaves me breathless, illuminating every corner of my damaged soul. Your grace and elegance goes unmatched, and in your presence time becomes still. Your radiance rivals the stars in the sky, drawing me in with your mesmerizing depths. I want- need to memorize every inch of your skin, your smile, your heart." He growls, but it's not unkind. 

"Your laughter is a melody dancing through the air like a symphony of joy, your smile a beacon of light, the blush that blooms across your cheeks like a cherry blossom on the first day of spring."

"You are the embodiment of everything I cannot have, and that is why it drives me insane when you prove yourself a masterpiece crafted by the hands of love and innocence itself. If one of us were to be jealous of the other, it would surely me of you. Men will ogle undoubtedly tonight, which I do not blame them for, you being the belle of the ball."

My breathing stifles as he looks into my eyes with such certainty that the elegance of his words just absolutely astounds me. I keep my bottom lip tight against the top one in the fear that if I let go I may very well begin to weep and it may never come to a standstill.

Brock awkwardly snaps out of his mesmerized trance, and rubs the back of his ruddy neck.

"Anyways," He mutters, back into his usual reserved persona. "Not that it matters if  men or women are looking. I would not notice them if they were right in front of me, and I am not letting you dance with anyone but me."

"Thank you..." I breathe in an undertone, now looking down at my own glass heeled feet. "I was quite worried about how this would go... I still am, truth be told. I do not know what I should do with myself."

"I will show you." Brock nods at once, gruffly before sticking out an arm for me to take. "Shall we, Galla?"

"Yes, Brock." I take his offering graciously, leaning on his arm as he leads us out. "Did I mention how devastatingly, ruggedly handsome you are?"

And he chuckles like I am the most wonderful person he has ever met.

I must earn more of that laughter from of him.

⚔️⚔️⚔️

"Stay close, darling. The war is brewing."

"It is a royal ball. We are all positively fine."

 We have been at the ball for an hour now, making light conversation before the dancing begins. The room is just a majestic edifice. With spiral concrete pillars, crystalline chandeliers, and the finest dressed attendees, it has to be by far the most brilliant sight I have ever laid eyes upon. Brock scowls at everyone we pass, and I attempt smiles so big they make up as enough for both of ours. I think I'm alarming the fellow guests, though, if I find myself truthful.

"Oh, for goodness sakes." I stop our walking and pull him to the side, clapping my palms on either side of his face to force his eyes to mine. "Control yourself. There is one hour left, Brock. You only have to smile and make polite conversation for that period of time, and then you get a trip of silence back to my shores."

"It is just bloody awful, Galla." His expression grows sorrowful. "I only came because the message came straight from the king. If optional I would have spared you from this nonsense."

"Without this nonsense you would not have seen me in this attire." I raise a brow. "Would you really rather have missed this sight?"

"No..." Brock relents to his desires, pulling me closer by the waist and leaning down close to my ear.

People are staring at this new version of their general, and I think I am not the only one thawing at this sight. He has been all over me the whole night, adhered to my side like epoxy. Several gorgeous women have come up to us with their partners to bat their eyelashes and fan themselves at him; however it does not end the way you may imagine. Brock pays half attention to them, twirling my hair, gripping my waist, or whispering murmurs in my ears while I attempt to support the conversation he is clearly uninterested in. I get flustered, he drags me away, I apologize to whatever immodest women we have been conversing with, and he grumbles and glares all over again. 

"Oh my goodness, off with you," I sigh, pushing him from me exasperatedly. 

"You only stimulate me more when you talk like that, darling..." He murmurs as he makes eyes at me.

Or my body, moreover.

I hear titters and swoons from women passing by, and I flush even harder, myself glowering now.

I suppose we have rubbed off on one another.

I glare daggers, an expression I have not utilized in a while. With every moment I frown, Brock's face grows more and more impatient, gripping my waist harder, closer and tighter to him.

God, this man.