Hyde Road - Go to the hotel lounge
From Create Your Own Story
You are caught in the middle of a memory, and stutter out a half response, you see the figures of some people sitting on the other side of the glass doors in the lounge. Quickly you reply without thinking, you feel your face turn flush but the words do come out.
The mans frown returns, he can see right through me you think to yourself. You can feel your ears getting warm. "Certainly, Miss, the lounge is through there." He motions toward the glass doors on the right.
You nod, and thank him. The snow you had dusted from your garments has melted on the floor around you and the heel of your boot slips as you take your first step. The water on the polished marble floors is as slick as a well greased pan and there is very little grace in your motion as your feel yourself falling. It's much like a slow motion replay as you feel yourself falling to the inevitable end that will momentarily be you and all your dignity in a pile on the floor.
Hence it takes you entirely by surprise when, instead of the expected pain of your landing on the hard stone floor, a pair of strong rugged arms has wrapped themselves around your waist, saving both you and your dignity. You don't recall hearing the door opening behind you, but it is the last thing on your mind as you look up into the eyes of your savior. A deep set pair of blue eyes, with a handsomely tidy pair of dark eye brows, a sharp nose, a clean shaven face and a strong jaw with a cleft. All too quickly you have been pulled back to your feet, a part of you longing for moment to linger.
Perhaps it was the embarrassment in the situation but it really felt strange, on turning to face the man, he has on his head a broad brimmed hat and grey scarf he was re-fixing around his neck. He is wearing a dark blue overcoat with scatterings of snow from the storm outside on his shoulders. He is tall, you would say a few inches over six foot, and he has broad shoulders. You try to thank him, but your voice betrays you, and you eventually manage a squeaky "Thank you." Again you feel your ears warming and you are certain your cheeks are turning a light shade of crimson.
He nods, and in deep voice that seems to vibrate through your being in a way that really should in be considered unnatural, he simply says, "My pleasure." There is an awkward moment that ensues, your mind is racing trying to think of something smart, or at least sexy, to say. He looks at you intriguingly for a moment with his head slightly tilted to the the side, before picking up a bag that was standing on the floor at his side. He nods at you and walks past you toward the desk.
As his heavy foot steps walk away your hot flush begins to subside, a mans presence has not had this affect on you that you can recall, well at least not with all his clothes on. You watch him as he walks up to the desk, neatly places his bag next to him and begins a conversation with the man behind the desk. You only realize you are staring when a bus boy interrupts your gawk as he tries to mop up the water sitting on the floor.
You can't stand around in the foyer any longer. Do you?
