Emma Wycliff
Emma could hear the music from where she was in the garden. She missed the first dance, and now the second one was starting.
Emma decided she had enough moping and feeling sorry for herself. Even if she didn’t want to be the one to walk down the aisle in a white dress, she still had to make an appearance, do something, at least long enough until she could get away.
Emma got up and quickly wiped away her tears before she began to briskly walk, almost march-like, back into the ballroom.
She quickly looked around, for anyone. Someone who wasn’t dancing, who was free.
Then…Emma saw him. He was on the side of the room, talking to an older person. He was…kind of tall to say the least. At least a foot taller than her, but Emma didn’t notice that until she was already halfway over to him. Before Emma could even think about turning around to go back, the man looked up, and they made eye contact.
A pit formed in Emma’s stomach and she gulped. It was too late now.
After hesitating for a second, Emma walked over to him.
“Pardon me, sir. I have a very important question to ask this gentleman you are talking to.” Emma interrupted the conversation, giving a slight curstey to him before turning to look up at the taller gentleman.
“May I have this dance?” She asked him, holding out her dance card to him while also fighting the urge to just pull him onto the dance floor just so she could say she got one dance over with.
@Ouijaloveletters - Edgar >.<