lastingsongs:
a small left amara as she looked from tempest to the crowd. “dance? rarely. and, if i do, it isn’t like this. i prefer to watch if there’s dancing involved,” she said before taking a sip of the wine in her hand. “the wine here is also not to my taste. the wines from home are sweeter,” she shared. “what about yourself? i sense you’ve grown bored – and, rightfully so. you came with a rather handsome fellow, why not have him entertain you?”
“Sweeter wine?” she echoed, her interest piqued. “It is decided then. If and when we figure out how to get here, I need to figure out how to visit you at your home. If you say the wine is better, I want to be able to enjoy it, too.” She smiled ever so slightly. “Forgive me if I just invited myself to your home, but wine just may be my favorite discovery in this small town.” When Amara referred to her best friend as the rather handsome fellow, amusement was written on her face. “Well, we really didn’t have much planned except come in looking beautiful and scope out what the fuss was about, really. I never was invited to balls like this where I’m from.”










