Blush by Plumb.
When you look at me I start to blush
And all that I can see is you and us
Oh baby, I'm so afraid to be in love
With you
When stars are falling dark we'll light the way
Will hit the ground and fall into to the shade
I'll light the night with fire and run away
With you
Just want you for myself
Don't want anybody else to love you
I want you right next to me
I want you, baby
Wanna be in love with only you
Wanna watch the sky turn gray and blue
I wanna know the kiss that's always new
I wanna be in love with only you
Just you
I wanna be with just you
I ain't got no more that's real
Crickets chattered in the night as Felicity ran down the dirt road. Her feet kicked up dirt and dusted her dress in brown as she ran through the outskirts. It was dark as she left the town behind her and ran into a field of cool grass. The dew tipped blades of grass touched her ankles like dead hands as she ducked behind an oak tree, blushing wildly.
What's wrong with me!
Felicity panted. Her purple and black dress was tighter than her usual clothing. Her chest rose and fell heavily with the constricting purple corset hugging her too tightly. A bar fight had broke out. Felicity's face was beat red as she looked down. Her shoulderless dress exposed her shoulders and collarbone. Beyond the purple corset, black cloth draped down her muscular arms. See through black cloth. That same black cloth reached near her ankles, with a solid, covering underlayer reaching down to just above the knees. Her toned legs were clearly exposed, and her short purple slippers left her ankles visible as well.
Her hands brushed the rough tree as nightfall blanketed the countryside in shadows. Why had Felicity chosen to wear such an exposing outfit? She remembered the hoots of strangers in that bar, calling out to the attractive redhead. She remembered one of the drinking buddies at his table getting too close. Of course, she also remembered the leaps on her chest when he rose and attacked him. That entire night, she was conscious of his gaze across her figure. She still had been when they fought some tipsy drunkards together.
Yet, when it was all over, he had one thing to say about the fight. "I came here to drink and get into brawls. I got both."
So... he had not risen to defend her? He just fought for his own pleasure? The thought left Felicity feeling vacant and... was that longing? She let herself fall, resting against the tree as she sat on the ground. The cold night was bitter. Light yet harsh winds rustled a dress that offered no warmth and chilled her to the bone. As she shivered, Felicity thought more on that night. Once, Felicity would not have appreciated him glancing at her for a second. She had not. She remembered the embarrassment when he accidentally slammed into her during training, then got a good look as he sat on top of her. Then, she remembered how he used those same gazing eyes to watch other women in the inns and brothels. Oh, those ice blue eyes that made her want to watch him. Why did she feel so outraged? She knew she loathed the lifestyle, yes. She could not deny, however, that there was something more either. When she had walked into the inn in this very dress, she remembered the nervous tension as he turned and stared at her. She crossed her legs where she stood, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned instinctively to appear smaller. Why? What possessed her to not only let him look, but to enjoy it? Back against the tree, her forehead burrowed in disgust. What was this feeling she was trying to avoid?
The training sessions rolled in her mind. Sure, the tall, golden skinned athlete was always shirtless, something she struggled not to stare at. More importantly, however, she remembered how stern, yet patient and calm, he was. She remembered how she enjoyed those times. She also recalled the lighthearted humor as they swapped quips on a regular basis. She then looked back on how he helped the people of the town just down the road with a gift giver's heart. How sweet and passionate he was with the little girl he adopted, the strong moral desire not to kill, how soft and compassionate he was with Felicity when she felt down.
Was that seriously the same man who drunk like a sailer, debauched after women, and lived for only himself? Was this the same man who had extorted a desperate group for extra money, frequently insulted Felicity for her physical flaws, and carried an ego bigger than a wyvern's?
She gritted her teeth. Why all this anguish? Why all this emotion? What desire, what yearning, was forcing her to chase this charismatic jerk?
She thudded her head against the tree with an exasperated moan. It was stupid, but looking back, she recalled how when he looked at her in the inn, she had blushed.
Her eyes widened in realization.
Did she dare admit it?
Felicity had never thought she would fall in love. To her, it was a dumb lovey dovey concept she had no interest in. Or was it? Felicity had been completely happy being single, but the nagging insecurities always haunted the corners of her mind. The Eiskaltian girls taunting her, reminding her that she was unworthy of romance, or of any kind of love in general. The words mocking her forehead, hair, eyes, always stuck with her. She was simply too ugly for any man to love.
She sat straight up. The wind rustled her hair as she gazed towards the town. She loved him. She wanted him. She wanted to just love him, and she wanted him to stop gawking at those prostitutes and dancers and look at her! The jealousy, anger, and hurt were too intense to be anything else. She was simply too ugly for any man to love, yet, here she was, shocked at herself. Unbelieving, bewildered. She had fallen in love. She realized, these feelings she had never felt before, obeyed without questioning their motives, were love. Love, huh? How great, for Felicity's heart seemed to have chosen the worst possible man to feel these things for.
Leoric!
Felicity's thoughts spat in disgust. Was she disgusted about Leoric himself though? Or was she disgusted by her own poor tastes?
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