Highest ranking
#1 in utopia
-•-
"It's about how your hips move," the hand that sits on my waist finds my hip, his fingertips trailing lightly along the fabric of my skirt. "When you arch your spine," he continues on, letting that same hand migrate...
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The song is for the second half - you'll know when. We're setting the scene in here.
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No amount of convincing could defer me from this decision. The one which I go back to the marketplace, back to Yonda's pub and more importantly, back to Kian.
The logic stands. In three months, I will be married. I will be moved. I will be forced into a life from which I will never escape. So, naturally, it seems sensible to live each passing second leading to that inevitable moment to the fullest. Not a day wasted, not a minute spent with anything other than a smile on my face. Not once have I felt more content than I did during that day at the marketplace. Not since Kian parted with a kiss on my cheek.
I want to fulfil my last few months of freedom in a place, with people, that can make me feel completely alive. I want to experience what could've been, if I weren't born into a high level, destined only to continue on that path.
Both Zaveri and Margot listen quietly as I tell them this. They would never argue, but their expressions are perhaps more telling than any words would be. It's obvious to me, they think this decision is by far the worst I've ever made. Not only is it dangerous, parading around with strangers in a place unknown, but the repercussions I could face from the wrath of my parents are far worse.
Yet I say, what more can they do? They're already stripping me of my freedom, my rights. They're already forcing me to marry. They already hit me till I concede to their demands. They have no leverage left to use, so now, I make my own decisions.
Neither girls talk negatively of their masters. They would never because they're professional and polite. That said, they can neither argue with me. So, when I ask them to ready me and call for transportation, they do so.
My purchases have been utilised; a long white blouse, the hem of which tickles my thighs, partially hidden under a grey knitted vest, one void of sleeves with a neckline low enough to allow for the collar of my blouse to untuck neatly on top. Zaveri still insists I wear tights – sheer tan ones – and slips my feet into lace up boots, ones that rise to my mid shins.
I've learned from my past mistakes, jewellery goes forgotten, bar the rose quartz ring still sat on my finger. Perhaps I should part with it, another act of defiance, but for some reason, I'm oddly attached to it. It could quite possibly be my subconscious. Technically, I am engaged, and it would be misleading of me not to display such. Or, it could well be the fact this ring is my souvenir of sorts, a memento from a place where I was truly happy.
I avoid my parents, but they show me little interest today regardless. I'm sure Eason has been in touch, assuring them of my newfound acceptance which has mellowed their moods. So, as consequence, it's particularly easy for me to surpass them without question.
The vehicle takes me to the very place I first began only two days ago. The brink of the marketplace, one which is already brimming with activity. Except, I've explored this place. Now, I'm focused entirely on finding Kian, but it's only now I figure that such a simple feat might be slightly more challenging than I originally anticipated.
