Second Dance | @damien-keyes
Freshly returned from the garden air, slightly intoxicated and ready to mingle with the high society of London, Anastasia walked about the dance floor. The music of the first song was dying down, and she watched as people picked up their new pairs; she waved and smiled at the few she’d already met nearby. No, she needed some more excitement before turning the charm on one of those she’d built some report with. She’d seen a few woman that she wouldn’t mind taking a turn about with, though she doubted anything so brazen would be acceptable this early in the night. No, she needed to entertain the part of her -however daunting it may be- that was attracted to men. Her bitterness came from the experience of never quite being the one men chose to marry. No title, moderate money... she doubted she’d meet a husband abroad.
Still, she could have some fun.
“Excuse me, sir,” she greeted, having locked eyes upon a target for spending the next several minutes with this evening. “I would love to delight you with a dance.” He was cute. Hopefully he was good at conversation, or at least dancing if not.