One shots

Paper hearts (corazones de papel)

Pent up emotion helps me wrtie decent stuff. This was inspired by literally just life around me and how I've been feeling. This is set in past not the times now around the 1920s and that also inspired her dress. Hope you enjoy it!

"Storms make trees take deeper roots."- Dolly Parton.

They promised each other the night, and only the one night. They would not go look for each other after this. They would forget each other. And if one day as if by fate they would meet again then they would.

One hour earlier...

Lydia sat on one of the empty bar stools. She was sick and tired of these functions, of not being able to go off and do as she pleases, how she pleases. She wanted to be an independent and free young person. But it was being a woman that seemed to be restricting her. Was this really the price they had to pay?

She hates that she was lusted after. Seen as a mere object or accessory. She hated how women were all so submissive. She hated the way life and culture worked.

So she would take advantage of her situation now. Sitting alone, glammed up, the plan to drink, dance and have fun. Ordering a white lady she rested her head on her hand, tapping the counter.

She took in the party around her. The lavish foyer of the hotel, open and stylish. Silk drapes swayed to the breeze. Music played at a slow tempo, the lighting dim creating a sensual atmosphere. And everyone dresses to the nines.

She thought about herself, about her future and life. Thanking the bartender she turned, nursing her drink. She was almost isolated, with the slight shine of a light hitting her every so often as she sat. People around her got up for the next dance but she remained.

Francisco was central in the mass of swaying bodies. The company party was a hit. He twirled Else once again, politely smiling. Where the hell was Damien, he thought to himself. His eyes scanned the room, once, twice before coming to a stop.

His movements faltered, his face ashen in recognition. His eyes honed in on the figure near the back. He was shocked to the core for a few seconds. Could it really be her?
A slight tug from Else bought him back to the present. He smiled a tight smile, eyes trained on her for every second he could.

There in front of him he thought stood Lydia. His Lydia. Her dress, cream with black jewels and beading. Black gloves covered her hands and her hair piece a diamond across her head. Her hair was jet black and short. Her eyes lined in kohl. A light icy on her cheeks. And her lips, ruby red. He remembered those lips as if it was yesterday. He never forgot.

Seeing the figure of Damien, shielding her from his view, he stopped and glared at him for leaving his pregnant wife with him for so long. They were both starting to worry. With a curt nod in front of all the other people, her let him cut in, sidestepping. Turning he made his way to her. He was in awe. Could it really be?

Lydia felt it. That pressure on her chest,leaving her breathless. Her body warming and hypersensitive to her surroundings. They say her breathing shook with each intake. She was confused, scared and shocked. What had her like so?

Looking down at her second drink of the night, a vermouth she downed it in one go, hoping it would calm her nerves. It had been so long since she felt any of this. She was sure her feelings, were all dead.

"Lydia?"

The sound of a deep questioning voice broke her revere. It couldn't be? Not here at least. The same voice had haunted her for the past five years. She breathed in deep and steady, straightening her back before turning.

She wasn't prepared. She felt it, the way her breath stopped. Her body internally shaking. He looked the same. She could see him. Yet he had matured. Grown more handsome with time. But his eyes, the same brown eyes stared at her soul.