An Unwanted Interruption
"Five years," Jay Gatsby 's husky voice breathed. He pinned Daisy to the wall of the living room.
"Not here Jay," Daisy pushed Gatsby away. A hesitant tremor betrayed her lilting voice. "There 's servants around."
"Five years to make up for," Gatsby murmured into Daisy 's ear.
The young woman turned her white face up to Gatsby’s own, her eyes dark with anticipation. Gatsby kept his eyes transfixed on her face. Five years on, and her beauty still mesmerised him. He was still awed by her aura of luxury, grace, and charm.
Daisy pulled away, tentatively looking about to check for prying eyes.
“We’ll have an early dinner,” Gatsby guided Daisy to the dinner table. “We can have dessert afterwards upstairs,” he added suggestively. …show more content…
“All that matters no more,” Gatsby tenderly placed Daisy’s hand in his. “We can go back to before that now, you and me. We’ll repeat history, and it’ll be just as good as it was before.”
“Not waiting wasn’t my choice,” Daisy’s eyes were pleading.
“What we had before that was,” said Gatsby. “And we’ll have all that and more now.”
Gatsby’s tone was firm and laced with hope. The same hope in his eyes that now implored Daisy.
“Did you really earn all this in five years?” Daisy asked incredulously. “It’s nothing much, really,” Gatsby waved his hand. “Nothing compared to you. You’re my golden girl, Daisy.”
“You were a poor boy when I first met you,” said Daisy. “How did you get so rich?”
Gatsby averted his eyes. Heat coloured his face and he suddenly found himself very interested in the floorboards.
“I was in th-the drug business. That lasted for a few years, and then the…ahh…the shares, yes, the profits from those ventures allowed me to get to where I am today,” Gatsby stammered a response.
“But anyway, that’s all behind us now. I want to take us back to Louisville, back to that night under the moonlit …show more content…
Daisy smoothed her dress. Her head snapped to the door, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Gatsby,” the chef poked his head through the door. “But did you want the peanut butter cheesecake or the chocolate brownie for dessert?”
“Either is fine. Leave it in the kitchen,” Gatsby scowled. “I explicitly informed you, I wanted no interruptions!”
“Apologies, Mr Gatsby,” the man turned crimson. “And what about your lady friend, Ms…Mrs Buch…Mrs Buchanan...?”
His face twisted in confusion before smoothing out again.
“Why, it’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here! You must have your pick of dess—”
“No. Interruptions,” Gatsby’s voice hardened, and the chef scurried. “Will he gossip?” Daisy asked in a small voice. “Oh, Jay, what should I do? If Tom finds out…”
Gatsby closed his eyes, pained by the sound of Tom’s name.
“We’ll move upstairs,” he said resolutely. “Tom won’t find out. I’ll make sure of it,” Gatsby added darkly.
Gatsby placed his arm around Daisy’s waist, guiding her. He found his hands dropping lower as soon as they were behind closed doors. Daisy twisted around, allowing herself to be in the embrace of Gatsby’s arms. He ran his fingers through her hair before resting them lightly on the nape of her neck. He drew her close and held her protectively against his
"Five years," Jay Gatsby 's husky voice breathed. He pinned Daisy to the wall of the living room.
"Not here Jay," Daisy pushed Gatsby away. A hesitant tremor betrayed her lilting voice. "There 's servants around."
"Five years to make up for," Gatsby murmured into Daisy 's ear.
The young woman turned her white face up to Gatsby’s own, her eyes dark with anticipation. Gatsby kept his eyes transfixed on her face. Five years on, and her beauty still mesmerised him. He was still awed by her aura of luxury, grace, and charm.
Daisy pulled away, tentatively looking about to check for prying eyes.
“We’ll have an early dinner,” Gatsby guided Daisy to the dinner table. “We can have dessert afterwards upstairs,” he added suggestively. …show more content…
“All that matters no more,” Gatsby tenderly placed Daisy’s hand in his. “We can go back to before that now, you and me. We’ll repeat history, and it’ll be just as good as it was before.”
“Not waiting wasn’t my choice,” Daisy’s eyes were pleading.
“What we had before that was,” said Gatsby. “And we’ll have all that and more now.”
Gatsby’s tone was firm and laced with hope. The same hope in his eyes that now implored Daisy.
“Did you really earn all this in five years?” Daisy asked incredulously. “It’s nothing much, really,” Gatsby waved his hand. “Nothing compared to you. You’re my golden girl, Daisy.”
“You were a poor boy when I first met you,” said Daisy. “How did you get so rich?”
Gatsby averted his eyes. Heat coloured his face and he suddenly found himself very interested in the floorboards.
“I was in th-the drug business. That lasted for a few years, and then the…ahh…the shares, yes, the profits from those ventures allowed me to get to where I am today,” Gatsby stammered a response.
“But anyway, that’s all behind us now. I want to take us back to Louisville, back to that night under the moonlit …show more content…
Daisy smoothed her dress. Her head snapped to the door, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Gatsby,” the chef poked his head through the door. “But did you want the peanut butter cheesecake or the chocolate brownie for dessert?”
“Either is fine. Leave it in the kitchen,” Gatsby scowled. “I explicitly informed you, I wanted no interruptions!”
“Apologies, Mr Gatsby,” the man turned crimson. “And what about your lady friend, Ms…Mrs Buch…Mrs Buchanan...?”
His face twisted in confusion before smoothing out again.
“Why, it’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here! You must have your pick of dess—”
“No. Interruptions,” Gatsby’s voice hardened, and the chef scurried. “Will he gossip?” Daisy asked in a small voice. “Oh, Jay, what should I do? If Tom finds out…”
Gatsby closed his eyes, pained by the sound of Tom’s name.
“We’ll move upstairs,” he said resolutely. “Tom won’t find out. I’ll make sure of it,” Gatsby added darkly.
Gatsby placed his arm around Daisy’s waist, guiding her. He found his hands dropping lower as soon as they were behind closed doors. Daisy twisted around, allowing herself to be in the embrace of Gatsby’s arms. He ran his fingers through her hair before resting them lightly on the nape of her neck. He drew her close and held her protectively against his