June 4th, 2010
“Without words”
The clock struck twelve and the ballroom began to be quite empty. The orchestra, musicians and singer leave the room and everybody in the room said goodbye to each other, except the fiddler. He was waiting for her.
When she entered, he jawed. She was wonderful. Her blue eyes shone in her white skin and it two refulged in her red robe. He thought he doesn’t deserve her, she thought he could fade in any moment.
“– a-ah –…” He tried to say something with a tremor voice. He was imagining in his mind praising her. Saying how beautiful was her eyes, how magnificent her appearance was, how lovely se was…
She went near to him and he could see the sweetest glance in her eyes. She was thinking and feeling the same than him. Since the sky Cupid wept, coddling his perfect work. She looked at him and felt herself as the most fortunate girl for having, in front, such a perfect being.
It wasn’t necessary words. The silence was the language of their hearts and their glances, the most beautiful words you could imagine. He was weak. He couldn’t resist and embraced her as if he would never let her go. She felt the warmest sensation inside her, because he didn’t hugged her body, but her soul.
After many minutes which seemed as a second they went out to the night, but they weren’t cold. Their hug had warmed completely their beings. The hand which was supporting her hand made her feel protected, and the hand which was accepting his hand brought happiness to him.
The mist wrapped both making them feel welfare, the constant sensation they could feel beside all what they were feeling. Beneath the pale radiance of the moon he promised to keep her in a metal safe forever, on his heart; and she promised to love him until death and beyond. And again, Cupid wept.
