Taming the Storm- a Storm and Silence Fanfiction

Betrayal

I stood transfixed, watching them. I don't know how long I stood there, but she seemed so comfortable, standing by his side. And he, seemed just as eager. I had seen her dance with many men at the last ball.  And just like last time, my eyes remained on her and her every movement. But never before, had I seen her so at ease, so content with those in her company.

They were standing so close, almost a breath away, talking passionately about something, I found myself wanting to step forward and stop them, or to learn what they were talking about. But I couldn't, it was as if my feet had somehow been glued to the floor. Maybe something was stuck to my shoe that must be it! There was no other logical explanation for what was happening. Something was thumping rather loudly, it was beginning to make it difficult to hear. I couldn't figure out what it was for multiple minutes, until I realized it was my own heart thumping like a woodpecker against my chest.

Their conversation continued, and continued, and with each passing second she seemed to be getting more and more comfortable. At times her rosy cheeks tinting red, the redness spreading to her ears. She looked beautiful, the redness contrasting beautifully against her pale cheeks. I was momentarily distracted by her blush, but was then reminded that another was getting this reaction out of her. The fire within me continued to blaze, I was sure I looked like a man ready to kill by now, my eyes focused on them, and by teeth bared. But despite these strange emotions inside of me I couldn't look away, let alone move. It was like I was in a trance cursed to watch them. Maybe I deserved this, having treated Miss. Linton so harshly in the past, maybe this was my punishment.

My mind continued to explain, what my heart could not. Maybe they were friends, surely that must be it. It was the only explanation I could give myself as I watched her playfully elbow him in the ribs, as if they were long acquaintances that met up regularly. Maybe they were, I thought, then quickly banished that from my head, before my anger sparked out of control. The man set a hand over his heart, as if her elbow had hurt him. But he wasn't the one in pain at all, I was. My heart seemed ready to burst out of my chest, and it was beginning to get difficult to breathe. This exact feeling had occurred on the ship, when I thought she was about to drown and again when I thought she had died. No, I kept convincing myself she was fine and well, and this man in front of her, was someone who she saw from a brotherly angle. But these assurances were falling to deaf ears. They were just friends, they had to be.

Suddenly the curtain blocking them from the rest of the world, was pulled back and the old lady came to stand by them. The blush on her cheeks, left at once as she turned to face this woman. I had never been so happy to see an old woman before, as I was now. Miss. Linton seemed to have completely forgotten the man standing next to her, while the man took multiple steps back. With each step backward he took, the easier it became for me to breathe. I was almost certain my breathing had returned back to normal again when the music changed to something fast tempo. The noise of people running to the dance floor distracted me for a few seconds that I almost missed the man's hand shooting out and reaching for Miss. Linton.

What was he doing? Was he trying to grab her, and take her somewhere!?! She hesitated for a few seconds, and I took this hesitation as a cue to step forward and help her escape this situation. I had almost reached them, when something in her expression changed and she stepped forward and tightly grasped his hand. I was suddenly reminded, of the time she held my hand during our little adventure. She now held his hand with just as much confidence and ownership. She then proceeded to drag him towards the dance floor and away from me.

I continued to walk towards them, but dancers had begun to block my way. It was like she was getting further and further away, even as I attempted to walk towards her. There seemed to be no hesitation now, as she let him put a hand on her waist, and take her hand into his. She let him hold her, as if he had done it many times before. And he too, held her like she was his. But she wasn't, she did not belong to him. How dare she let him hold her like this? Other men had attempted to hold her with such possession, but she had always managed to restrain them, by stepping on their feet, or by scolding them while dancing. But as she galloped across the ballroom alongside him, she seemed more relaxed and happy then I have ever seen her.