Prose

Ignition

It was the first day we met. Met in the middle of an unfamiliar crowd. With voices rumbling across the room and a touch of sweatiness overpowering the lavender scent that danced across the room, that was the day we met. In the middle of the crowd, there you stood. Quiet, silent and serene. You looked so calm. I glanced at you across the dozen eyes that seemed to be constructing a waltz across the dimly lit shadows. I watched you in absolutely awe, wondering if I would ever muster up the courage to talk to you. 

I slowly leaned closer towards the wall, with my leg slightly resting along the murky wooden floors. Should I? I asked myself. As I looked down at my nude beige heels, I smelled a whiff of your strong cologne. You moved closer. This time, I could see you eyes clearly. The dark light from the chandelier shone upon the brown circles of your small eyes. How beautiful you looked. We looked at each other for a long, long time. The coolness of the air-conditioner blowed through our faces, breezing past your hair and over your scruffy beard. 

It's now or never. Who knows? Will I ever see this handsome man again? My heart said yes but my mind, obviously denied me. You're going to look stupid. Forget it. I dragged my feet, one step at a time. He gaped at me, with a glass of wine in his hand. His fingers looked so delicate. Long, slim fingers. Seriously? Was I really admiring his fingers? Oh god. 

The closer I got, the more I could feel. Those small brown coloured pupils were filled with melancholy. Why was he sad? HOW could anyone so lovely be displeased? I was getting closer. Should I just ask him?

Hi. I wiped my hands on my long, flowing dress.

Hey. 

I inched closer towards him and gazed intently into him. Perfect creature. God must have created him. Devil in disguise perhaps. 

Would you like a drink? He put his arm out, inviting me. YES! I screamed in my mind. 

Yeah sure. I said instead. 

Four drinks later and fifty minutes into conversation, I searched his eyes again and raised a finger. I wanted to alter that broken piece inside. That tiny piece that needed to be mended. Find that crack in between and fill it with light. I caressed his back, igniting each and every bone down his spine. One at a time.

How did you do that? How did you know?

Sweetheart, when two souls ignite, that is when magic is created. For you I would. 

[ PS: This is written for pure entertainment. It isn't related to my story or anyone else's story. Neither does it refer to anyone in particular or any incident past or present. ]