When marimba rhythms start to play,
Dance with me, make me sway
The thin, drifting scent of the honeysuckle blossoms wrapped itself around the beach, snaking through the senses and stirring within the imaginations of the humans milling in the last gold-dust rays of the sun. The young man and woman wandered easily across the sand barefooted, turning their heads as a new tango rhythm opened up, played by the quadruplet of native musicians on the decking. Couples, a few at the most, were already twirling on the covered dance floor.
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore,
Hold me close, sway me more.
The boy tucked a flower behind her ear and cocked his head. “Shall we?”
The young woman paused. Her newlywed husband seemed so at home here: she felt out of place, the foreigner. But his eyes saw only her.
Like a flower bending in the breeze,
Bend with me, sway with ease.
The imprints on the damp, foam licked sand changed from two sets of meandering footprints to one single track as he pulled her into his arms.
Other dancers may be on the floor,
Dear but my eyes will see only you,
Her cream cotton dress flared as he twirled her, and then pulled her close. Breathlessly, she let him lead, for once. Usually she was the most independent, most stubborn, but the ease, the trust of the dance relaxed her. He was watching her, as always, despite the beauty of the setting, her husband saw only her. And she, only him.
I can hear the sound of violins,
Long before, it begins
The beat of the dance was the only thing that didn't begin to fade. The slight hum of distant creatures, the few people around them, the lap of the waves at the edge of the beach all drifted away. He held her so surely, spun her so quickly, her dark hair fanning out, their gazes never moving from the other's - they were in their own world, and no-one else's.
The music flowed through her, all rhythms familiar, even out here, and he would have just watched her like that, had his arms not been irresistibly drawn around her. They were unaware of how much time had passed; the song was almost ending, the floor emptying. Unconsciously they slowed, nearly closer than it was possible to be.
"So perfect," he murmured. His words could not be heard by anyone else, and he seemed unaware he had spoken.
She could not return anything to him, just kissed him lightly. Words were not always necessary.
They danced a little more, for maybe two or three songs - it was not the music or the dance that mattered, it was the fact they were both there, both had the only thing they had ever wanted; the other. After everything they had been put through, everything they had left far behind as soon as they could. Leading to times like this.
She glanced up, noticing darkness settling in - the only part of the sun left was warm orange on the horizon, the sky streaked magnificent purples, dark blues, pinks, even, like some strange god had taken a paintbrush to the heavens and coloured it in uneven strokes, stretching further than any eye could see. She loosed slightly from her husband, didn't let go of his hand, and led him from the dancefloor.
The beach was scattered with smooth rocks. He held her again, sitting down, pulling her into his arms, almost cradling her. Like he had done the first time they'd met. She stared out to sea for a while, but she could not keep him out of her sight for long.
There were so many things she might have said. None of them enough; nothing could ever describe all the things she felt. "Trist- thank you. For everything." She kissed him longer this time, as if they would never let each other go.
When they finally broke from each other, he brushed the hair the soft breeze had blown into her eyes. Traced her cheek as he did so, searched her eyes, her face. He leaned in so their foreheads touched ever so slightly. "You, me. One and the same. Seren, I love you. Forever. I would never have it any other way."
Tora, (and Allie).