A story of sense but not knowing

46 3 2
                                                  

She became automatically entranced by his eyes. She hadn't meant to life her gaze, especially when being warned against it. But she was now glad she had. Her eyes made their way down the strong side of his face down his perfectly structured cheekbones and to his lips. Full and as soft as silk, she could tell just by looking at them. Her fingers quivered at her side, she wanted so much to reach out and touch them. Again her eyes made their way back to his. Eyes, that were as dark as night, but still there was a glimmer... a glimmer she had yet to resolve. His strong, distinctive voice filled her ears making her body tremble with anticipation. Again she thought please, just once more.

His lips moved in sync with the words she so desperately wanted to hear, but this time no sound came out. She felt her arms stretch in front of her, trying to reach for him. So close. Frustration lingered in his eyes and he began to mouth something else before stepping away. Heartache filled her chest, NO! Don't go, not now. Another step back from him made her chest heave in exasperation. His arm flung out to her, his ringed fingers mere inches from her own. Her eyes flew from his hand to his eyes, she knew what was coming. Not good-bye, not again. His hand formed a fist and his arm fell to his side. He hung his head and she tried to seize his attention again but he would not look up. He will never look up at me again. Slowly, ever more slowly his apparition disintegrated, she flung herself at the last of the remains and felt her fingers grasp the wisps forming his coat. What remained of his upper body she immersed herself into and searched for one last aspiring look; his eyes looked hard and cold, but to her, for her she could not miss the immense pain and sadness behind his gaze. Her look would no doubt show the same if she hadn't wanted to leave him with at least one peaceful memory. She made sure her eyes displayed the greatest of loves, her own, and before the last of wisps disappeared she saw he had registered it. His trademark smirk, the one she had longed not to forget, flickered across the very last speck and he was gone.

An opportunity so rareWhere stories live. Discover now