Come Find Me.

You are effervescent, filled to the brim with bubbles and champagne. The man across the room has noticed your peach colored tea dress and mint julep eyes. You blush and take another sip of your drink. When you chance another look, he winks. You fake a saucy smile, though you suspect it is more of a frightened wince, and smoothly slip onto the balcony.

The night is light and crisp, a million candles burning in the windows of the sky. You rest your elbows against the railing and let your eyes wander across a different type of sky. The lights from the city are doing their best to dim the candles in the sky with their fancy electric glow. The stars, ancient in their wisdom, simply are; with no need of fuss or proof of their worth. You, however, do not contemplate the struggle of new against ancient. Nor do you really notice the bright faux starlight of the city. You are imagining a kiss from the man inside.

As if he heard your thoughts, he slips out of the crowded apartment and comes to stand beside you. You play calm, though your nerves are jangling like sleigh bells. To bolster your, quickly failing, nerves, you take a sip of your champagne. You dare a glance at him, your eyes sweeping over his starlit face. He takes a sip of his martini and sighs.

"Its a lovely night," you venture, as nonchalantly as possible.

"Yes." he replies, though you can barely hear him over your pounding heart.

You take another sip of your champagne, desperately trying to find a topic to fill the silence. Thinking of nothing, you sigh and glance longingly at the door.

"If you are uncomfortable," he says. "I would be willing to go back inside. I did not mean to intrude."

He turns to go and you reach out to him. In the space of a moment, you find yourself engulfed in his strong arms with his lips pressed to yours. He smells of hyacinths and he tastes like spiced rum. Your fingers slowly twine themselves in his black and silvered hair. You hold him as close as possible, your hips pressed to his without being sexual. But, oh, how you wish it would be that way.

When he tries to pull, you pull him back to you. He smiles, the bow of his lips delicately enunciating his sharp canines. You recognize the hunger in his eyes and are suddenly wary. His hands stop, just above your hips, and the pressure of his fingers is almost maddening. You abandon your misgivings and kiss him, thoroughly. He lets a small moan escape his lips, pushing you to near frenzy.

He nibbles on your right ear, trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder. He nips the spot where your neck meets shoulder, then tenderly sucks on it.

"Your place or mine?" he asks, breathily. You note, with keen arousal, that he will have to wait before you return to the party.

"Mine." you say, your hand drifting toward the prize, but stopping just before it is reached. He lets out a frustrated whimper and you kiss him once more before darting into the apartment.

You flash your friends a knowing smile before slipping off your heels and leaving through the front door. If you time it just right, you'll reach the elevator as he exits the party. It will take a moment, but he'll head toward the elevator and it will close just as he gets to it.

You fly towards the elevator, your bare feet a whisper of sound against the carpet. You giggle when you enter the elevator and see him coming toward you.

"Let's play Cinderella," you say, tossing a heel to him as the doors close. You press a button and whisper to yourself. "Come find me."

As the elevator descends to the first floor you imagine the look on his face. He had barely had time to register confusion before the doors had closed.He is the first to catch your shoe as it flew through the doors. Usually they are too stunned to catch it before it hits the floor, shattering into a million beautiful pieces. The game is over at that point, much to your disappointment. This one, however, has started the game with promise.

You glance at your bracelet watch as the hour hand touches midnight. This New Year should be interesting if he follows further than the front desk. You permit yourself a smile before exiting the elevator and heading toward the lobby.

One glass slipper in hand, you push through the revolving door and hail a taxi. The doorman wishes you a good night as you slip him a tip and a note for the young gentleman to follow. You wink, conspiratorially, at the doorman and climb into your taxi.

You twist in your seat just in time to see him rush out of the revolving doors, your slipper still in hand. He tries to flag your driver down, but for an extra tip he speeds on. You see the note exchange hands before you settle in your seat and enjoy the ride.