S
standbyme
Guest
here's the first half. . .
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=ArUMKBbEwDjhrXHpUaW.Wrfsy6IX;_ylv=3?qid=20080910104713AAYFcrn
sry if the link doesn't work
here's the second half
I leaned back and observed them. They were late, and no one here was ever late. So they must be from somewhere else. I held the wine cup by the delicate stem, and took a sip. At first they seemed unsure of themselves. The then youngest of the three there led the girl out onto the floor and spun in a gentle circle. They began a waltz of sorts; one that really had nothing to do with the music; one that no one knew. It was a delicate dance. The steps complicated; they grew faster and faster as they were repeated.
It reminded me vaguely of something, but i couldn't figure out what. The next two were drawn onto the dancing platform by the young men and began the same dance.
Others moved out of the way for them; to watch the beautiful movements. The three didn't seem to notice. Their steps were all made from perfection, and they were all in step.
When the dance ended we were all sorry. It had been amazing, and i wanted to see more of it. I emptied my glass and set it down.
I wanted to dance.
Each of the couples where now dancing to the music in their heads. I moved to the two who were inbetween. . .the two who weren't the oldest, but not the youngest. The boy looked up from the face of the girl and saw me coming. His face got wary, and i paused for a moment, and then moved forward again.
When the boy's back was to me, i gently touched his shoulder, the way of inturupting a dance. The two stopped, and breaking apart turned to look at me. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wished that i had not inturupted this dance. The boy looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. She shrugged, and without saying a word told him something. He nodded and left; left me standing with her; awkward. Questions, thoughts, swirled in my mind, and i felt like i was spinning.
The spinning stopped.
Her hand had taken mine gently. She held it lightly in her hand. She looked me directly in the eyes and said,
“next dance?” i nodded, feeling a little more comfortable. We waited, kind of still. The song ended. She glanced around; after finding what she wanted, she rested her eyes on my face. Then she asked softly,
“can i feel your face?” i almost stiffened, but then asked
“why?”
“because i want to see you.” the ways she said it . . . i allowed her. Her fingers where light, and gentle. She ran her hands (using mostly just her finger tips and the heal of her hands) down my face and to my chin. Then she traced my cheekbones and eyebrows and then the bridge of my nose. She gently touched my lips and then the shape of my cheeks and eyes. Then her fingers lingered on my chin. I opened my eyes – i just realized that i had closed them when she had first started tracing my face. There was a small awkward pause while we waited for the music to start. When it did i carefully took her hands in mine, and without a word of communitcation to each other, started to waltz. Backwards, forwards. Backwards, forwards. Turn in a circle. Gentle step. Wide eyes. Gentle hands. She moved with ease, carefully. And she trusted me. I realized that halfway through the song, she trusted me. She was trusting that i would not drop her; that i would keep her from running into anyone else, or from tripping. The responsibilty suddenly seemed way to big for me. I wanted to stop.
But she trusted me.
If i just left – then i'd break that trust.
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=ArUMKBbEwDjhrXHpUaW.Wrfsy6IX;_ylv=3?qid=20080910104713AAYFcrn
sry if the link doesn't work
here's the second half
I leaned back and observed them. They were late, and no one here was ever late. So they must be from somewhere else. I held the wine cup by the delicate stem, and took a sip. At first they seemed unsure of themselves. The then youngest of the three there led the girl out onto the floor and spun in a gentle circle. They began a waltz of sorts; one that really had nothing to do with the music; one that no one knew. It was a delicate dance. The steps complicated; they grew faster and faster as they were repeated.
It reminded me vaguely of something, but i couldn't figure out what. The next two were drawn onto the dancing platform by the young men and began the same dance.
Others moved out of the way for them; to watch the beautiful movements. The three didn't seem to notice. Their steps were all made from perfection, and they were all in step.
When the dance ended we were all sorry. It had been amazing, and i wanted to see more of it. I emptied my glass and set it down.
I wanted to dance.
Each of the couples where now dancing to the music in their heads. I moved to the two who were inbetween. . .the two who weren't the oldest, but not the youngest. The boy looked up from the face of the girl and saw me coming. His face got wary, and i paused for a moment, and then moved forward again.
When the boy's back was to me, i gently touched his shoulder, the way of inturupting a dance. The two stopped, and breaking apart turned to look at me. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wished that i had not inturupted this dance. The boy looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. She shrugged, and without saying a word told him something. He nodded and left; left me standing with her; awkward. Questions, thoughts, swirled in my mind, and i felt like i was spinning.
The spinning stopped.
Her hand had taken mine gently. She held it lightly in her hand. She looked me directly in the eyes and said,
“next dance?” i nodded, feeling a little more comfortable. We waited, kind of still. The song ended. She glanced around; after finding what she wanted, she rested her eyes on my face. Then she asked softly,
“can i feel your face?” i almost stiffened, but then asked
“why?”
“because i want to see you.” the ways she said it . . . i allowed her. Her fingers where light, and gentle. She ran her hands (using mostly just her finger tips and the heal of her hands) down my face and to my chin. Then she traced my cheekbones and eyebrows and then the bridge of my nose. She gently touched my lips and then the shape of my cheeks and eyes. Then her fingers lingered on my chin. I opened my eyes – i just realized that i had closed them when she had first started tracing my face. There was a small awkward pause while we waited for the music to start. When it did i carefully took her hands in mine, and without a word of communitcation to each other, started to waltz. Backwards, forwards. Backwards, forwards. Turn in a circle. Gentle step. Wide eyes. Gentle hands. She moved with ease, carefully. And she trusted me. I realized that halfway through the song, she trusted me. She was trusting that i would not drop her; that i would keep her from running into anyone else, or from tripping. The responsibilty suddenly seemed way to big for me. I wanted to stop.
But she trusted me.
If i just left – then i'd break that trust.