They went out for dinner, just the 2 of them. Smiling. Laughing. Enjoying as much good conversation, as they had the food and wine. The little cafe was perfect for the couple to enjoy the evening. They only left after it became apparent that the staff wanted to go home.
He escorted her to the car, a hand placed, on the small of her back. She felt safe and secure, in his knowledge of the area, and that no harm would come to her, in his company.
Upon arriving back at his home, he lead her into the living space, beyond the foyer. Taking her wrap, he laid it on the back of one of the overstuffed chairs. Chairs mean to be curled up in, to enjoy the firelight, that might be lit on a night when the weather turned cold. For now, he opened up the drapes, and pushed out the window, allowing the night breeze to fill the room. "A glass of wine? Perhaps a brandy?"
She enjoyed the feel of the cooler air swirling around her bare arms, her head was swirling like the fragrance of the roses climbing along the trellised sides of the balcony. "Would you be upset if I asked for water, instead?"
"Of course not my dear. I am happy to accommodate such a beauty in all that she desires." His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the tall glass.
He sat down in his favorite chair. It was unlike the others in the room, more wood and iron, than soft and fluff. He had watched his own grandfather sit in this chair after a dinner, and then his father, after a day in the office. It may not have matched the other pieces in the room, but it fit him, and he it.
He sipped from his glass of brandy, allowing the warmth of it to fill his nose, and mouth; much like the woman curling her legs beneath her, did for warming his spirit. There was something about the way she held her end of the conversation tonight, that made him ponder the future. A luxury that he had not indulged in, in some time.
He watched her drinking the water. He admired her choices, both in the way that she honored her body's needs, and her clothing attire. There was nothing flashy about the dress she had chosen tonight. Deep purple, with capped sleeves, and a modest hemline; yet it made the most of her chest, by allowing him to view just the bare top of her cleavage, with its dropping neckline. It was the perfect complement to her skin tone. The way that she wore her hair a bit up from her face, yet dropping down her back, accenting the layers of her curls. Yes, he watched her and tried to figure out just how she came to be such the creature that she was.
They continued discussing common interests, items from current events, and the latest display at the local museum. She was a multi-faceted person, and this would have been enough, but for the fact that her gaze wandered from time to time. He couldn't help but be the person that he was either. This might have gone unnoticed to most men, but to him, he was keenly aware of her there, in the chair a bit off to the side of his left side. The way her she adjusted her body from time to time, in the chair caused by her animated way of discussing her thoughts. Did she realize how much she twirled the end of her hair, when she was listening to his thoughts?
Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks, as they say.
"Are you collared?" He asked her.
She had been explaining her thoughts on promptness and how she felt it was rude to be late for engagements, and why. When suddenly, all of the air in the room was sucked out, by some sort of vacuum. "Huh?"
By the confused expression on her face, he realized the truth of why her gaze kept wandering. She was staring at him. Her facial expressions moving at such a rapid rate of change, he was having trouble keeping up with them. He asked again, "Does someone already hold the key to your collar, little one?"
"Yes."
She paused.
"Hmmm no."
She shook her head and dropped it.
"I don't know exactly. It's complicated."
"Complicated, how?" Hunger from earlier in the evening was back, with a vengeance and it was not for Pasta primavera.
"Well, I do have a collar of sorts."
"Of sorts?" He cleared his throat.
She looked in her lap, willing her hands to stop moving. "I have a bracelet. But he gave it back to me. To hold on too, he said. But I thought that we had agreed that he would hold on to it. That he would get to decide when I wore it. If I wore it. That sort of thing. It's complicated."
