Fatebound

Chapter Sixteen ~ Dances

Miranda hadn't been able to bear the look of sadness, overwhelm and disappointment that had Filled Brea's eyes as she left the pub. And all the while she couldn't help but to think that she had helped to cause it.

She shouldn't have given her false hope.

Even if it wasn't entirely her fault, Miranda still felt the need to cheer Brea up somehow, and she hoped that the dance that night might help her to do just that.

Every ounce of her wanted to go to Brea right away and do what she could to help, but she got the feeling that she needed to be alone for a bit and she didn't want to make her feel any worse. After all, Miranda understood what disappointment can do to a person. It eats you up inside the way that only guilt could mimic.

It prays on your thought process, robbing you of daily joys and replacing them with only things that remind you of the sorrow in your heart.

Miranda still felt her own disappointment well up in her stomach whenever she saw fathers lifting their daughters in the sky, or mothers cueing at their child's cuteness. She felt it whenever she noticed a parent admiring their child's latest project from school, and generally whenever she saw a happy family.

She not only felt disappointment at this, she also felt envy. Envious of what they had, at what had never been given to her. So yeah, she understood. She understood entirely all too well.

Perhaps if she where to just tell Brea that, they would become closer, and Miranda might even finally allow someone to get past the walls she had held up for far too long.

But actually doing it, that was the hard part.

Especially when the logical part of her brain insisted on reminding Miranda that the two of them had only known each other for a mere matter of weeks and that she must be crazy for even thinking about letting this woman that she still barley knew, in.

Miranda tried to stop her thoughts in their tracks as she busied herself finishing the final touches of the history-lesson style painting in the lighthouse. Once a quarter past five hit, she began to get herself ready for the night ahead.

She intended on dressing to impress that night, so after she had washed her hair in the shower, she selected her nicest skinny jeans, lightly heeled boots, a cowl-neck light green top, and her nicest brown leather jacket to top it all off.

She was ready as she'd ever be, so she began her journey.

Once Miranda had arrived at the hall, she almost fell back at what she found there, or rather, who.

Brea was stunning. She was wearing a brown floral dress that matched her eyes, with beige stockings and little boots with heels. She had the softest looking red sweater over the dress, and her hair was tied up in a pony tail, with just a few tendrils falling loose at the side and curling by her ears.

Brea smiled shyly at the attention as she stared back at Miranda.

"Hi."

She said as she walked up to her.

"Hey." Miranda replied dopily with a grin.

"You look..." she began, already getting lost in Brea's deep brown eyes.

She giggled. Literally giggled and Miranda took note of it as just another one of the things she found cute about the writer.

"You're not so bad yourself." She replied, causing Miranda to feel the heat climb from her arms to her face. When she took the hand outstretched to her, she felt her own tingle as they walked into the hall and all she could think of was just how much this girl had her entranced.