#FridayKiss: Twitter stories - 2021 edition
Part of the Writing Community on Twitter, #FridayKiss is a weekly writing prompt. The only rules are to use or imply in the story the prompt word and have fun, all within Twitter’s 280 character limit, of course! The following is a collection of my contributions, which include multiple tweets that continue the story but still meet the goal per tweet.
Celebrate, 12/31/2021
She glared at the puddle collecting beneath his boots on the oak floorboards. "Do you expect me to celebrate your return?"
"Well, I had rather hoped...." The corner of his mouth teased upward.
"Nothing. Weeks gone by with not a word." His stunned silence aggravated her. "I knew not where you were, even IF you lived!"
"None of my letters reached you?" he asked.
"You...?"
"Everyday. What's more, your father and mine have given their consent."
Her heart swelled as if fireworks had shot from her belly.
The welling in her eyes encouraged him to brush his fingers across hers. When she did not resist, he cradled her hand - so delicate in his calloused grasp. "Every moment I thought of you. Dreams of your smile kept me warm at night. I reveled in every moment of it."
Color bloomed across her cheeks, soft at first like a spring daisy, then deeper with the full lushness of a summer rose. She'd thought him a coward. Run away after having stolen a kiss but was caught like a thief when her mother had come across them in the garden.
"Dare I hope," he raised his chin so he could find her eyes from his post at her feet, "that despite this unintentional absence, you would do me the kindness of bestowing your heart to me and become my wife?"
A rush flooded through her, sweeping away the anguish. Words simply were not enough. The long weeks of doubt and regret and loss and bitter rage spilled over, and tears coursed down her cheeks. He had not abandoned her. His whispered hopes of a life together were, in fact, more than a ruse. Still, she had to answer yes.
It was barely a whisper, but her unreserved consent rang through his ears with the force of a cannon salute. Without a second thought, he rushed to meet his mouth to hers. She did not hesitate to answer him this time. This was the celebration he had longed for.
Angel, 12/17/2021
A flurry of butterflies danced from the center of Marie’s chest and cascaded down her arms as he slipped a lock along her neck. She reveled in the delicious sensation of his breath on her skin. A hint of whiskey reminded her - this was no angel at her shoulder.
Chance, 12/10/2021
It was mere serendipity. A swirling ocean of colorful, knit hats bobbed through the vendors' booths at the green market. She chanced to see his auburn locks through the delighted faces turning into the dusting of snow floating down. That smile when he spied her.
"Hey, I know you," he laughed.
She tucked her hands into her pockets. The lace on his left boot was dangerously close to undone. "I thought you didn't like these kinda things."
Crinkles blossomed at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. "Thought I'd chance it."
"Not much to risk," she swept a glance around. "Just artisans, food, some good music...."
"And you."
Rosiness kissed his cheek bones. In the glow of the fairy lights, it made his eyes an endless sea of blue. Snowflakes shimmered on their surface from his lashes.
Heat burst over her own cheeks. 'It's just the cold,' she told herself. Frost danced between them when they exhaled, the dewy waltz drifting further apart as he began to lean back. Watching the color spread across his face, she realized her chance was fading fast.
"There's a great coffee shop," she said. "Just opened a block over. It's not far, just..." She felt caught, staring in the direction behind her shoulder. She couldn't make her body turn back to face him. "If you like bisque or...?"
"Never been." he answered. She took a chance and met his eyes. His brows were folded together. He dipped his chin when he asked, "Would you join me?"
"I... I'd love to," she breathed.
His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back, content. Oh, that damned smile.
Rescue, 11/12/2021
A sea of glittery gowns and polished shoes and sparkling jewels and fraudulent hopes clutter the ballroom below me. I'd give anything to avoid this task tonight. Already the orchestra is grating. Mother insists I chose. One man can rescue me from this endless season.
I spot him by a potted plant thinking he'd made his escape. A gaggle of hopefuls swoop in on him. He'd love to disappear into the fronds behind him, I can tell. Slowly, I glide down the stairs, joining the other contestants. He brightens in noticing me.
Rather than insert myself in the throng, no sense rushing the inevitable, I allow Mother to lead me through the crowd. Her faux delight in seeing everyone, the unnatural lilt in her laughter, is like glass breaking - unnerving. I relish the order of fetching drinks.
I linger by the curtain as if undecided which glass to chose from the butler's tray. At last, the man is called by a more decisive guest and moves on. My name whispers through the heavy velvet at my back. Time has caught up with me. A hand snags my wrist and whisks me from sight.
While he ravages my neck, his hands caressing the curve of my hips, I tell him all. Surprise widens his eyes as he breathes disbelief. "Say you'll marry me," he grabs my cheeks. "Prudence, let me care for you." I almost thought news of the child would frighten him.
His lips stretch to breaking, his smile is so wide when I accept. Another passionate embrace of his lips to mine. "I cannot wait," he tells me, then leads me past the curtains, through the crowd, onto the steps, where he announces before I can stop him. A season over.
Polite applause follows a few gasps of surprise. Whether from the sudden announcement or shock from those who know me intimately, I couldn't say. I study the man so pleased with himself by my side. I've enjoyed our interludes. Of course, it's my money that saves him.
Undress, 10/22/2021
The clatter of my brush seems to echo through the bedchamber. I fold my hands in my lap, hoping that will still them. Nattie had scurried down to her supper before the last inch of wedding lace had been breezed from my bodice and settled onto the chaise until morning.
A click of the door latch has me raising my eyes to find his in the mirror's reflection. William's hand seems caught there, as if frozen to the metal's surface. As his gaze devours the length of my neck and crest of my breasts, I feel as if he's already undressed me.
Even without his tux jacket, William's presence over me is impressive as he stares at my reflection. I wonder if I should rise to face him. His fingers pause moments from caressing my skin. Instead, he reaches into my hair and begins sliding loose the pins one by one.
My hair tumbles to my shoulders. An incredible poof on my crown has me reaching for my brush, but William lifts it from my fingers. A hand on my elbow draws me from my chair and circles me to his chest. He simply stares. Slowly, I find his top button and slip it free.
Cuddle, 10/15/2021
Rain splatters against the window. I tuck my knees to my chest and bury my shoulders under the plush blanket Chris left. Our song keeps playing in my head, a lovely refrain of simple smiles. Muffin bounds onto the couch and hunkers down into my stomach, purring.
A subtle click of metal turning stirs me. It's gotten dark out. Soft clattering of a suitcase in the hall has me sitting up. Then, Chris is in the doorway, hair dripping. "Hey." He stalls, unsure. "I'm an idiot." I nod. "Can I -" But I'm in his arms before he's done.
A car engine turns over. I watch the headlights round the walls of our bedroom as it changes directions. They catch the band on Chris's finger. He'd put his ring back on. I draw his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles. He stirs in his sleep then pulls me closer.
My skin dances as a not-so-subtle wake to his finger tracing the path down my sternum. "You know I can't stay," I groan. Dew cools my palm as I sweep the grass, searching for my shirt. An arm ensnares me and draws me close. "Wait until the sun rises," he whispers.
Hands, 10/08/2021
"Prudence.” Fingers embrace my wrist. He yanks me into an alcove. The waltz muffles as the curtains swish closed, hiding us from scandal. A hand caresses my hip. Already, I bare my neck, letting his lips dawdle toward my decollete. I love the way he sullies my name.
His chest presses to mine, forehead resting on the wall. The band quiets between songs, only bubbling laughter and vapid chatter cover our breathing. “Prudence,” he whispers moments before Mother calls for me. His hand slides down my thigh, returning me to the ground.
I smooth the layers of my gown and step out from behind the curtain. Candlelight, magnificent through the crystal chandeliers, dazzles me. His lips light upon my hand before I reenter the ballroom. “Why will you not marry me?” I smile then join the sea of suitors.
