~ To Dance Again ~

She had moved on, it seemed. And now he could finally do the same.


1. ~ A Dark Summer's Night ~

He watched her from across the crowd, a tangible, deep seated sadness surrounding his aura like a murky cloud of depression. Oh, how he wanted to run to her, take her in his arms and never, ever let her go again. But as he stood on the boundary of this vast and swarming group, he now felt like nothing more then a naive fool lost in the midst of a wistful daydream.


The gently shimmering lights that cascaded over her form made her seem ethereal, lambent even. Her resplendent, viridian green eyes glowed splendidly and her luscious ebony locks swayed to and fro as she moved at the centre of the merry crush. He stared on in an icy silence as her blithe, intoxicating smile grew and grew while her luxurious body, garbed in a magnificent white gown fashioned out of silk and lace, swayed in time to the tender hum of a harmonic cadence of lilting age old fairy-tales told on a glossy and exquisite violin. His violin.


He grinned in a sort of pure, ecstatic grace. If she still had his prize possession, after all these years, it could only mean one thing: She remembered him.


He felt a sudden pang of dull, thudding agony consume his being. It was a tormenting ache that burnt his heart and tore his soul asunder. She remembered him. And if she remembered him that meant that she also remembered the heart break, misery and distress he'd caused her all those years ago. He felt sickness set in. His conscience tortured him, bawling at him, screeching at him like a banshee.


He'd left her.


He'd let her cry.


They had been the greatest of lovers once upon a time. Their ardency, their magnanimous, indescribable worship for each other for just one moment, one glorious, exalted moment, had set the entire world alight. They had banished the oppressing, arcane madness that once blanketed their quaint little existence. Lifting the unearthly, phantasmal vale of darkness and discovering a euphoric and rapturous bliss in each others arms, After all, is that not what love truly was?


This had not lasted however.


He was pulled from his hushed, muted requiem by the sight of a man, grand in stature and daunting in gain, pulling her into his arms. Wrapping her in his warm and tender love, soothing away any and all doubts in in her mind as they began a ponderous and elegant waltz. The deluge of men and women, sharply dressed for the occasion, congregated around them, finally denying him his view of her.


But, almost as if the gods themselves had designed this moment for his lost and wondering soul, a gap appeared in the legion and their gazes locked for a fraction of a second. Her face paled and her eyes were blown wide with shock, almost as if she had seen a ghost.


Maybe she had.


It didn't last long though. The gap was once again filled and she quickly dismissed her hallucination as the man lifted her effortlessly, spun her once in the air before returning her to the ground, dipping her down for a kiss.


Their company went wild.


He smiled a faint, gleeful smile, turned, and faded away, evaporating into the warm summer's night.


She was safe; this man would take the utmost care of her for the rest of her life. They would grow old together and come to rest next to each other six feet below the soil as their corporeal, eternal souls ascended to a higher plane of existence, their cold, lifeless bodies left as sustenance for the ever changing earth. He knew that deep down in his hallowed, broken bones.


She was happy. She wasn't crying anymore and he had a feeling that she would never truly cry again. Not like she had when he had passed at least. Although, give it nine months and she would be screaming loud enough to, quite literally wake the dead. Twins, god help them.


She'd moved on. The stunning golden band on her finger was proof enough of that.


 He was so, so very happy for her.


She was finally dancing with someone else. 



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