Week seven - Broken
He had always been mesmerized by the way she played. The way her fingers trailed over the keys and a hauntingly beautiful lullaby came to life. He loved watching her play, quite possibly more than anything in the world. Especially on the lazy Sunday's they spent in her parents house in Wellington after a walk along the river. She played with grace and stature, her back straight and her head slightly bent. Her jaw was surprisingly strong and square for a woman, reminding him of ancient Romans. Her cheekbones were high and broad as well, graced with a hint of freckles. Whenever summertime came the freckles would darken and her face would look much softer than it did in wintertime. In winter her face looked as if made of the finest porcelain, and if he dared touch it -defile it-, it would break into a million pieces. He loved her every season of the year, but he adored her in summer. When the weather was too hot for either of them to wear constricting clothes and she would wear light cotton summer dresses, unbuttoned so that he could just see the swell of her breasts when she bent over to pour his tea. He had touched them on several occasions and they never seized to amaze him, she never seized to amaze him. Even when he first laid eyes on her she amazed him. It was a sweltering hot summer afternoon and he hadn't planned on heading into the city, but when he was ambling around the railway station back in Camden he couldn't help but jump into the train at the last possible moment. Eager for some adventure. As soon as he exited the train he couldn't help but regret his decision. The streets were way busier than he had anticipated and the thought of pushing himself through the sweaty crowd made him cringe. Instead he opted to head into the park. It had been busy there too, playing children and many elderly couples taking a stroll as the heat of the day faded. Opting to use his last quarters to buy ice cream he fell in line behind two young women, and that was when he noticed her. Auburn hair cascading over her shoulders in thick curls, a broad smile gracing her suntanned face. He had been awestruck, and as the line progressed he desperately tried to come up with a way to strike up a conversation. The memory faded as she spoke up.
'John, are you alright?'
He nodded, focusing on her again. She had stopped playing and was now facing him, her eyebrows arched in question. The metronome was still ticking in a slightly elevated pace. He loved that look. Silent, waiting for an answer, her brow furrowing as the answer did not satisfy her, but smoothing out when it did. She smiled, not the broad smile like the first time he had laid eyes upon her but small and graceful. Suddenly in a hurry he scrambled off her bed, creasing the linen as he moved. The sudden urge to kiss her had surfaced. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and kissed her with reckless abandon.
Er zijn nog geen reacties.