Lost between myself and the world around me; the loud music, the sweaty aura of the dancing crowd, the confusion of a rising dawn, I push my way through the crowd looking for her. I try tracing her whereabouts by sniffing around – maybe I will stumble upon her through the intoxicating sweetness of her strong perfume. For me it seems like forever since I held her in my arms in a slow dance. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my veins or maybe it’s a genuine want to just see her and pull her to me – again…

I am in a delirie contributed to solely by an unexplainable desire to see her.

My blood is rushing to my ears, my heart rate goes up to 100 as I am on the verge of being hysterical.

I shove people, chairs and plastic tables aside, scanning through the crowd hoping at least to see her…

My friends are cosied up in various corners of the establishment doing what only the cover of darkness allows people to. Fondling, lips mounted on each other’s throats, none of their hands can be seen – either they are in a random girl’s blouse or God knows where… I frantically ask them where she might have disappeared to but no one seems to have an idea. I think they don’t give a hoot whether I find her or not.

I want to give up looking…

I want to stop searching…

I want to just say it was a one fun night thing and I gotta keep on dancing…

I want to order another drink to drown my desperation…

So I head out to the balcony to get a feel of the fresh air and maybe clear my thoughts. In an instant I am done with the loud music and the sweaty revelers and I just want to be alone. If she can’t be with me I prefer solitude. If she can’t caress my face with her soft palms I leave that responsibility to the winds. If she can’t whisper in my ears naughty nothings I prefer the silence.

I lean on the balcony rail observing the horizon.

Its several minutes to six so the sun will be up soon. The clouds on the horizon have turned orange but the clouds above me are grudgingly dark. The skies seem to be in a disagreement whether they should give birth to the orange ball of warmth or let the showers wash our transgressions away (they have been many). The sun desperately wants to shine to welcome the new being to the world but the rains want to cleanse the place before that happens. It’s a war of might and wit…

The air is chilly but refreshing and my thoughts are clearing up. I can recall every aspect of the night…

Then I feel a soft hand on my shoulder. At first I assume that its my dreams playing games on me but the hand lingers on… I turn around and see her.

At first glance there is nothing unusual about her, but no-one stands within several feet of her.
In that moment I can see more of her. But then there is just something unreal and eerie about her. Her face, somewhat luminous, has a pale tone to it. The eyes are a piercingly sharp shade of gray. Eyebrows are arched over the curve before dispersing onto the bridge of her danity nose. Plump, the lips have the strangest curl to them. This enchanting face is framed wavy, ebony-colored curls, each falling to her hips. Overall, she is truly an unearthly beauty.

As she stands there, bright and slender, gracefully and elegantly towards me, I am lost for words. She seems like a queen, high and regal, with a strange air of mystery about her. And her beauty can’t help but add mystery to her.

Her dark African hair is short and falls in a dead straight sheet from her parting. Her pale eyebrows arch delicately over beautiful feline eyes which are rimmed with eyelashes so pale as to appear invisible. The deep warmth of her eyes give no hint as to her thoughts.

Her nose is quite small, a little snubbed to be honest, but a tiny bump on the bridge attests to a previous injury. Her lips are full and sensuous. She appears to reach a decision and, letting her hand off my shoulder, she archs towards me. Slender as a willow, she reaches for my hand and fits her fingers neatly between mine.

I grab her waist and bring her head to my chest. How I had missed the warmth of her breath. The gentleness and softness of her features just make me realize how fragile she truly is. As the morning winds blow her soft hair, the urge to just get lost in her presence consumes me way too much. The sensitivity of her presence is a feeling I cannot just get over…

I bend down, my lips against her cheek, brushing it lightly—and still that light touch sends shivers through her nerves, shivers that make her whole body tremble.

‘If you want me to stop, tell me now,’ I whisper. When she still says nothing, I brush my mouth against the hollow of her temple.

‘Or now.’ I trace the line of her cheekbone.

‘Or now.’ My lips are against hers.
But she has reached up and pulled me down to her, and the rest of my words are lost against her mouth. I kiss her gently, carefully, but it isn’t gentleness she wants, not now, not after all this time, and she knotts her fists in my shirt, pulling me harder against her. I groan softly, low in my throat, and then my arms circle her, gathering her against me, and she pushes my frame harder on the rail, her lips on mine…

She tastes too sweet to be real. But I can feel her heart beating on my chest as she gasps for air… I can feel the warmth of her body as she pushes deep into mine…

Soon the sun will be up and I cannot wait any longer…



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