Danza!

Dancing; Soft legs of a woman intertwined with her own as her fingers whisked delicately, dancing a ballet with the man's masculine hands. The streets of Italy were always the best stage for young lovers, performing the skips and twirls that spoke adoration. The man stopped and plucked a honeysuckle from a florists stand, and pulled a pocket knife from his pants to trim the stem, and placed it on the woman's ear. He smiled and tucked away her hair, and flipped a coin to the florist, greeting them in Italian as the young love-birds walked away from the scene. Elderly couples gazed and smiled at the young adults, remembering the days when love was so fresh, when love tasted like the juicy fresh bite of a ripe apple. As the sun fell lower and lower in the sky, the woman's long flowy black dress gave her a silhouette so mysterious, no detective could debunk the code of her blind beauty.
          The mans strong hand rested gently on her tiny waist, and he picked her up and twirled her around. A feminine chuckle pressed through her soft lips as her hair fell over her face in the wind, he put her down. A man nearby was playing acoustics, the strumming of the guitar played a perfect melody. "Danza!" the musician said, smiling at the two. They looked at each other and he held out a hand, and bowed. Their hands met together and she gave a cursy. Dancing with each other in the warm glow of the mediterranean sunburst, faces tanned instantly with the intensity of the sun's light. The girl did an arabesque, and balanced with only the support of a gentle giant's hand on her waist. She then fell and twirled 180 degrees, to end up in a dip with one leg extended in the air. He lifted her to her feet and their lips met, the guitarist strummed a G chord and a stranger whistled. She pulled away blushing after the remark and the man laughed. They bowed and flipped another coin to the musician, and headed on their way. Night began to fall, the sky was painted in a gradient ranging from gold to deep sangria. The couple matched, seeing as he had warm golden hair and hers was of a boysenberry. They stopped at a local winery and sat themselves outside. They both ordered a chardane and intertwined arms, and both clinked their glasses before taking a sip of the fermented evening drink, "evviva, amore mio."
          Cheese and halved oysters were served to them, along with some oyster crackers and a refill of wine. They dined and wined through the dark hours, until the towns clock struck twelve o'clock. Like Cinderella, she rose from the seat and twirled around the tables and chairs, taking off a shoe and placing it in his hand. He smirked and rose as well, playfully chasing the maiden. He got ahold of her waist and spun her around, and lifted her leg as you would with a horse when cleaning the hooves and placed the shoe back on her dainty foot.
          He leaned in for a kiss and she put a finger to his lips. Startled, he pulled back. She winked and broke from his embrace and began walking backwards, keeping eye contact.
"Where are you going?" he said, slowly walking towards her.
          She giggled and shook her head, "nowhere, it's a mystery."
          Confused, he stopped and kept eye contact. "Will I see you again?" he asked, his heart dropped at the thought of never seeing her again.
"Quite possibly." she teased, and twirled, and ended where she started. She saw the expression on his face and her heart skipped. He actually was interested.
"Well..." he started, questions flew through his mind like a flock of geese migrating south. "What's your name?"
She thought for a moment. Should she tell him? Should she stay a mystery? The answer was yes to only one of those. "Don't have one."
He scoffed, "Impossible. Come on, what is it? Please tell me."
          She giggled and took the flower out of her hair, and it fell in front of her face. She pushed her hair back and smelt the flower, twirling it between her index and thumb. "Maybe later." She winked and plucked a petal off the flower, and it floated to the ground. Still walking backwards, her and the black dress disappeared from the streetlights into an alley. He ran after her and she wasn't found, she was completely gone. His heart sank.
...
She ran down the alley and on to the street, only a football field away from her new love interest. A smile was plastered to her face and she plucked another petal, than another, and another. They left a spread-out trail on the road as she skipped. She giggled in delight at the thought of dancing with him again. ...
Late in the afternoon, he finally woke up in his beachside hotel and stretched, his muscles were tense. His night was rough. What is her name.. God, what is it? He stayed up late praying on the thought, hoping maybe he'd see it in a dream. He did however see her there, but no names to be found. Her beautiful rosy face sprinkled with freckles was plastered to his mind. Her green eyes so mystic and vibrant, just thinking about them made his heart melt. He could still feel her deep wine colored curls through his fingers. He sighed and stood up, the reflection of his broad and muscular body looked back at him in the window as he looked over the sand. He hoped to see her somewhere on the beach, he longed to see her glowing maroon hair in the sunlight.
          He snapped out of his trance and sighed, reaching over to his suitcase and plucking a green shirt from the pile of clothing and threw it on. He slipped on his khaki pants and sperrys, and headed out his door. The elevator buttons were lit up like a christmas tree, he sighed and headed towards the stairwell. Spiraling down to the first floor; an endless maze. But hey, it was a good workout. The man pushed the door open effortlessly as he finally reached the bottom and made his way to where breakfast was served. A woman with straight blonde hair made his way towards him. He sipped his coffee and paid no attention as she gazed at him.
"May I help you?" he asked, taking another sip of the black coffee.
She chuckled and pushed her hair back, "I couldn't help but notice that you're the handsome man that danced in the streets yesterday."
He nodded. Maybe she knows her name... he thought, then asked the question aloud.
The woman nodded. "Yes, indeed I do. I'll tell you for a small favor."
With hesitation, he nodded. "What's the favor?" He gulped, hoping this wouldn't turn into a drug deal. Her hands were placed on her waist and she smirked slightly. "Dance with me, in the streets." Seeing the flustered look on his face, she quickly explained. "You see, my ex-boyfriend works these streets every day, strumming away on his guitar. You danced to his music yesterday evening. I wish to make him jealous."
He thought for a moment, and nodded. "I suppose so. Right now? Please, I must know her name."
"Alright, drop the coffee and let's get going. And to let you know, I do in fact know how to use these hips..." She winked. He completely ignored the remark. The bellhop wished the two a good day. "Good day, Mr. Damien. You too, Mrs. Claire."
"Damien? Wow, sexy." Claire giggled, only half-joking. Damien rolled his eyes. "Quit flirting. I am very interested in the nameless-beauty I danced with prior to this." Claire's face dropped. "Me too. As in the guitarist, that is..."
          As always, the musician was out strumming away, people passed and dropped money in his case one after the other. Damien held his hand to Claire, and she took it. The guitarist's face had a disgruntled look to it, though he kept strumming. The two danced the tango, Claire led. Damien kept tripping up, as he'd never danced this style before. They ended with a dip, and Claire laughed. Passerbyers clapped and kept tipping the musician. Damien looked up and locked eyes with her; the freckle-faced maiden. Her face was written with sadness and betrayal, she took off away from the scene. Damien nearly dropped Claire to the ground as he ran after her. Oh, so close! He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, though she did the same. She was an alluring leaping gazelle running from a brawny, robust cheetah. Down alleyways among alleyways, they finally made their way to a small hidden beach, far from society.
She turned to face him, tears streaming down her face. Damien reached to her to wipe them away, she recoiled.
"How could you? I thought what we had was special, something you couldn't dare to let anyone else experience with you." The tears fell harder, she wiped them on her sleeve.
"I promise, it's not what it looked like-" She scoffed, though he continued to explain. "She promised that if I danced with her, she'd tell me your name. Though, I still never got it..." He looked to his feet, then back up to her piercing green eyes. Her look softened with understanding, "You really wanted to know that badly?"
"God, yes! I prayed that I would see it in a dream, alas that failed to happen. Please, I barely slept. Darling, what is your name?" His hand was placed under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. She smiled and the tears stopped falling.
"Evelina." She whispered, and she grinned. Damiens face lit up, excitedly he repeated the gorgeous name. "Evelina! Evelina, that is the most desirable name I've ever heard."
"Funny you say that... That's exactly what it means." She laughed. He placed a kiss to her lips, and they stayed there for a long while. Once they finally pulled away, their fingers interlocked and they began walking down the side of the beach.
"Who was that girl, anyway? I've never seen her in my life, I have no idea how she would've known my name."
Damien raised an eyebrow in confusion and thought for a moment. "I have no clue... though maybe she knows you."
Evelina looked at him, an eyebrow also raised. "Hmm? What do you mean?"
He gazed at her and smiled, "a face like yours is impossible to forget."
          Blushing, she shook her head and looked to the water. The mediterranean sunburst reflected off the surface of the sea, and painted an abstract reflection among their silhouettes, though her blushing cheeks were still visible.