{ @ofquondam + James }
What would she give for a nice glass of wine in her bathtub? Elizabeth hated social events, as she had been paraded in so many as a child. People would think her father was trying to get her a good husband that could take over the family business, so she had proven him that she could do it all herself. But she had promised that she would be there for a couple of hours and then go home, and it was a good thing that they had champagne.
She brought the glass to her lips, finishing it off in just one go, hoping the clock moved faster. She could barely hear her own thoughts with all the voices in the room. When a waiter passed by, she gave him her empty glass and took a new one, taking a sip. It was perhaps the most delicious one she had ever had, and she vaguely wondered if she could ask for the name.
As she looked around for the bar, she didn't notice the man in front of her until it was too late. They were a few inches away from each other when she stopped. And she recognized him, of course, because that hair and those eyes were hard to forget, especially when they haunted her dreams as of late. "Glad to see you here, Mr. Norrington."