The tables have dark blue covers, and more bright white snowflakes speckle the open space between the plates. It's fucking ridiculous, if you ask me.
No one is asking you.
Standing in the doorway, the music thumps through my chest as I look around the room. A few of my football buddies are standing against the far wall waiting in line with their girlfriends for a photo.
The smiles I see aren't excitement for a photo to remember the night. The smiles are for the simple fact they're getting some ass tonight.
Moving my eyes back across the room, most of the tables are empty. Everyone is either dancing or in the photo line. I wave at a few friends, looking past them, hoping she's here.
And then I see what I want, the whole reason I'm even standing here right now.
Dalia.
Fuck, she looks so damn beautiful. Her dress is red with a flower pattern tracing the right thigh and across the front edge. The dress is covered by a sheer black fabric, giving it a shadow that flickers as she moves.
Stunning. That's the only word that comes to mind. The only word that rightfully describes the beauty on the other side of the room.
My heart starts to race as I watch her closely. Her slow movements. The way she gently touches her lips with the pad of her finger. The way she holds her belly right before she giggles, and how her head falls back at the same time. The delicate swipe of her finger as it pulls a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and how her eyes pay attention to whoever she’s talking too. It doesn't matter who you are, she's looking at you.
All of it. Every last drop makes her who she is. It's mesmerizing.
She's smiling as she dances with Kira, tipping her head back to laugh out loud. She doesn't look angry or sad, and that's perfect. I need her smiling like that, it'll make it easier for me to approach her, and talk to her.
Working my way around the room, I give lame waves, and half smiles to teammates so I can get closer to Dalia. My mind isn't on who I should be seen with, my mind is only on her.
She doesn't notice me. So I stand back, and wait for the right moment to cut in. It doesn't take long, the song ends after a minute, and she slows down, taking a step back to get some air.
“Dalia,” I say, reaching out and touching her shoulder.
She jerks, spinning around fast. Her eyes expand wide as saucers.
She doesn't say a word to me, she just turns her shoulder and looks the other way.
It hurts. To be disregarded, her eyes full of regret and disdain send needles through my heart. My hope was a smile, instead I got the cold shoulder.
Leaning into Kira, she whispers something in her ear. I don't know what it is, but the look on her face tells me she's wondering what the hell I'm even doing here.
I'm here for you, and only you.
“I get it,” I say, passively holding my hands up. “You don't want to see me, and I completely understand that. All I'm asking is for a few minutes, I really just want to talk, that's it.” I reach for her again, but not with the intention to touch her. It's to show her I'm here, but I know I fucked up.
Kira steps between us, and her jaw cocks to one side. “I told you already, Lyle, stay away from her. If Dalia wanted to talk to you, she would have already. Take a fucking hint asshole, this ended days ago. It's time to move on, you had your chance and you blew it.”
“Dalia,” I say over Kira's shoulder, ignoring her completely. I know she means well, but I want to hear it from Dalia. “All I want is for you to hear me out, that's it. I'm not even asking for you to forgive me, I just need you to listen.”
“Fuck off, Lyle. Doesn't her silence tell you anything? She's telling you to get bent.”
“If she feels that way, then let her tell me herself.” Kira gives me an evil eye, her mouth opening to probably tell me to go fuck myself. “Please,” I say, keeping my eyes on Dalia and not letting Kira get out a word. “Five minutes.”
“Do I—”
“No, I don't want to hear what you have to say,” Dalia cuts in, not letting Kira finish as she moves around her and stands in front of her. “I've heard enough already.”
“All right, fine, I'll leave you alone if you just give me five minutes. That's not too much to ask.”
Do I sound desperate? Because I am.
I can't keep going like this. I need her.
“No you won't,” she says, taking another small step in. “You don't know how to stop talking, you don't know when to close your mouth and just listen.”
“I'm listening now.”
“You're just as delusional as your sister. You're still talking, you're not listening. There's a difference between hearing and listening.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, my voice aching for some direction. I don't know what she wants from me. And yet, I'm just happy she's talking to me at all. Even if it's out of anger.
The silence is the worse. I'd rather have her screaming in my face than not hear her voice at all.
“Just leave me alone, Lyle, that's all I want. You don't need to say anything, I get it. You and your sister had your fun, you made a fucking fool of me. You win, I get it, I'm a damn loser and everyone knows it now. So thank you.”
I'm quiet for a moment, letting her words settle in the air. “Fine, you want
