(Sequel to Two Gangs and a Golden Girl)
***
"If you even think about touching me, I will literally rip off your arm," I growl when Xavier prowls closer. He doesn't stop. His poison green eyes drill into mine.
"I will have you, Marigold, and we will...
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I lead Amber Marigold to the dance floor. The air around us seems static. Electric and frozen. The glittering chandeliers above are holding their breath. The flickering synthetic candles light up even more. The old, wooden floor quakes underneath the heavy steps we take with our titles. And the very people around us visibly take a few steps back.
The leaders of Sterling and North. That's who we are. And in the matching outfits, we are a force to be reckoned with. Even the very notes of the music that's being played doesn't dare to miss a beat.
When I have Marigold on the dance floor, my stare fixed on the wild oceans in her eyes, I take a moment to lower and pick up the tail of her dress. The material is so delicate in my hand, I'm afraid it'll evaporate through my fingers. I come back up and hook a discreet loop onto Marigold's finger - allowing the dress to not be in the way of her feet. Marigold quirks her eyebrow.
You could've told me that earlier, her eyes say.
You could've danced with me earlier, I wink right back.
Fair enough, she shrugs.
When the music's pace starts, I have my feet moving. Like melted silver, Marigold's body goes where I lead. It's like our legs are tied with invisible poles - moving at the same time and with such power and flow, the other dancers stay a good distance away from us.
"Why are you being nice?" I ask before pushing at her side to let her spin out - the dress flaring out like a blooming flower with it's tail held by her finger. When I yank her back, she comes spinning with equal speed - her dress twirling out in smaller and smaller circles before her back is pressed against my chest.
Marigold cranes her neck - a little out of breath and says: "I'm following my own advice."
I bring my arms up - untangling Marigold in one smooth motion before she's back in my arms and we glide across the room. With every step we take, someone else takes a step back.
"Which is?" I ask before gripping her hips and swinging her low - her back arched and hair fanning out before I bring her back up. A whisper away from me, she has her hands on my chest.
