The burning off
1716 Words
CHAPTER 3
She danced as if the music were a time machine, taking her anywhere but back to the sterile, stifling politeness of her family's drawing room. Amelia dances like there is no tomorrow, her arms thrown up, hips moving with a wild, almost desperate grace that was entirely new to her. Forgetting her pain? It was more like burning it off, each dizzying spin fueled by years of stifled obedience.
She had always been a good daughter, a perfectly polished reflection of her parents’ expectations. She’d obeyed their family members, sitting through endless dinners and accepting well-meaning, suffocating advice, even though she didn't want to. But tonight, she didn't want to hold back. Every move was a whispered, fierce "No" to the life she was supposed to lead.
“You’re electric,” a low voice murmured near her ear.
Austin. He had a smile that was a little dangerous, a little too knowing. He held out a sweating glass, its contents glowing a pale, seductive blue. “For the lady who owns the night. Try this.”
The liquid was sweet, sharp, and went down fast, igniting a warm, reckless fire in her belly. She glanced across the crowd. Her friend was dancing on the other side, enjoying every moment, her face split by a huge, carefree grin. Lucy, the queen of ‘no regrets.’ Amelia wished she could be Lucy.
It wasn't a sudden, sharp pain, but a deep, melancholic ache. A realization of the life she hadn't lived, the spontaneous, messy joy she'd traded for approval. It made her eyes sting slightly, but the lights and the music chased the tears away.
She turned back to Austin, a man of sharp lines and shadowed confidence. She was looking at the hot and sexy man in front of her. His shirt was already half-unbuttoned, showing his chiseled chest and the silver chain around his neck glinted. He was also looking at her, his gaze dark and intense, absorbing her frantic energy.
The song shifted, becoming slower, more primal. They drew closer. Their bodies rub against each other with the music, a slow, deliberate slide of skin and fabric. Every touch was an illicit whisper. Amelia felt the hardened muscle of his chest, the heat radiating from him. The loss she felt moments ago was dissolving into a potent, immediate need.
She pressed her body fully against his, letting the sensation flood her. She felt alive, dangerous, finally free. She found him really attractive. Attractive enough to forget everything. Attractive enough to embrace the tomorrow she was only just now creating.
“Let’s get out of here,” Austin’s voice was rough.
Amelia didn't hesitate. She took his hand—the first hand she had ever willingly reached for in rebellion—and let him lead her away from the flashing lights and the roar of the crowd, toward the uncertain, thrilling quiet of the night.
Amelia didn't look back. The moment she stepped through the crowd, the roar of the music was instantly replaced by the muffled, cold quiet of the late-night beach.
Austin's hand was hot and firm around hers, pulling her along with an urgent, easy confidence. He didn't tell where they were going; he simply knew where it should end.
“Where are we going?” Amelia finally managed, her voice a little breathless, the blue drink still buzzing pleasantly in her veins.
Austin glanced back at her, his dark eyes catching the faint, purple glow from a nearby lamp. His smile was less dangerous now, more a quiet promise. “Somewhere we can talk. Somewhere... less watched.” she nodded without having a second thought.
He stopped near a tree, a secluded place, belongs to the beach resort. He didn't speak. He simply lifted his free hand and gently pushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. His thumb lingered there for a fraction of a second, an electrifying, feather-light touch.
“Amelia,” he murmured, the way he said her name making it sound like a secret. “You look like you’re running from a fire. What is it you’re burning off?”
His question, so direct and unexpected, sliced through the reckless adrenaline. She felt a sudden, dizzying need to confess everything: the endless expectations, the suffocating family dinners, the engagement ring which she threw at her fiance.
But the words wouldn't come out as a tidy narrative. Instead, her answer was a physical movement. She leaned in, closing the small gap between them, pressing her lips against his. It was a demanding kiss, a fierce, hungry release of everything she hadn't been allowed to feel. Austin was ready for it. He responded instantly, his arm wrapping around her back, pulling her tightly against his body. He tasted the same sweet, sharp blue drink and something uniquely his, a wild, warm flavor that was intoxicating.
The kiss deepened, becoming a dizzying vortex of sensation. Her fingers gripped the hardened muscle of his chest, tracing the silver chain beneath the open collar of his shirt. This was it: the spontaneous, messy joy she'd been aching for, the ultimate, beautiful rebellion. This was her starting gun. When he finally pulled back, just enough for them to catch their breath, his gaze was dark with desire, but also with something else—a strange, almost concerned intensity.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered against her ear, his breath warm.
“I’m... I’m finally alive,” she confessed, her voice thick.
He looked at her for a long moment, a genuine, unguarded smile finally touching his lips. It made him look less like a sexy, shadowed stranger and more like an ally.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand again. “There’s a rooftop. Best view in the city. You need to see the tomorrow you just claimed.”
He led her to a rusted, precarious-looking fire escape nearby. Amelia, the woman who usually feared heights and always took the service elevator, didn't hesitate. She followed him up, climbing rung by rung, leaving her old life, piece by obedient piece, on the pavement below.
~~~
This New Year's Eve was meant to be different. It was meant to be the start of her life with Kevin, a life her family had meticulously planned for years. Instead, a few hours ago, she'd called off the engagement, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess them. Freedom, exhilarating and terrifying, had flooded her.
And now, here she was, at a ridiculously extravagant beach party. The air thrummed with music, laughter, and the scent of salt and expensive perfume. Lost in the crowd, a hand had found hers, pulling her gently into a dance. Austin. He was all broad shoulders, a captivating smile, and eyes that held a hint of mischievous adventure. One dance had led to another, then a shared cocktail, and then, under the burst of fireworks painting the midnight sky, a kiss. It was a kiss that tasted of liberation and reckless abandon, a kiss that set her mind alight with possibilities she hadn't dared to consider.
She knew what was coming. The unspoken invitation, the electric current that had sparked between them, it was all too clear. Her mind, usually so disciplined and rational, felt gloriously out of control. For once, she wanted to go with the flow, to shed the skin of the "responsible Amelia" and embrace the unknown.
Austin, with a knowing grin, took her hand again, his touch sending a shiver down her arm. He led her away from the pulsating energy of the party, through a quieter, dimly lit hallway of the beach resort. The vibrant sounds of the celebration faded behind them, replaced by the soft whisper of the ocean and the gentle thud of their footsteps. Each step felt like a step into a new chapter, a thrilling, uncharted territory she was surprisingly eager to explore.
~~~
Austin paused on the threshold, his silhouette framed by the hallway light. The room they were in—a private suite reserved for the New Year's Eve gala, now blessedly quiet—felt charged with an unspoken understanding. He held his hands lightly before him, a gesture of profound respect and anticipation, his gaze fixed solely on her.
Amelia sat on the edge of the velvet chaise lounge. The roar of the party two floors below, the countdown clock ticking relentlessly toward midnight, all faded into a dull, distant hum. Austin's entrance had shattered the sophisticated composure she had worn all evening like a mask. Her breath caught, her lungs suddenly feeling too small.
It wasn't mere passion; it was a spiritual release. Her soul, caged by years of polite expectation, cautious reserve, and perhaps, quiet loneliness, saw in Austin an open door, a key. For the first time, she felt an overwhelming, dizzying sense of absolute rightness.
She didn't speak. She couldn't have even if she tried. She simply lifted her chin, her eyes dark and unwavering, and gave him that silent, powerful nod. It was a permission, yes, but more than that: it was a vow to herself. She wanted this New Year's Eve to be a memory that burned bright, a dividing line between the Amelia who was and the Amelia who was about to be.
Austin understood. He didn't rush. He closed the door with a soft click, the sound sealing them inside a perfect, private bubble of time. He crossed the room in three slow steps, his movements deliberate. When he stood before her, he didn't reach out. Instead, he knelt down, resting one hand lightly on the chaise beside her knee. It was a gesture of humility and devotion that unlocked something primal within her.
"Amelia," he whispered, his voice deep and rough with emotion. It was the only word spoken.
Tears, hot and unexpected, pricked her eyes. They weren't tears of sadness, but of gratitude and relief. Her caged soul had flown out, and now, it was soaring.
She reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. His skin was warm, a solid anchor against her reeling world—Austin leaned in.
- Writer
