Green and Black

Green and black, green and black.

She spun, her head thrown back with laugher as a compliment to the wit of her partner.

Green and black, green and black.

Most of the other couples had come to rest, their dancing put to shame not by grace or poise but by the sheer outpour of life from the two spinning figurers.

Green and black, green and black.

He moved through the crowd, their clapping giving no sound to his ears. It was as if all other senses had fled but his sight. The last of the dancers had come to a halt now, green and black slowly separating into two people again. Green flowed in a curtsy, black dipped in a bow.

Then she was moving, leaving the floor as the dance continued with a little less beauty than before. He followed, out of the grand ballroom with its glittering lights and into the much quieter hall with rows of chairs for tired guests. She sat on one of the long couches by the wall, arranging her skirt neatly before flipping a cream fan open. Even still as she was, except for the gentle move of her wrist, he sensed that somewhere inside she was till spinning and he approached reluctantly.

Sparkling green eyes, making the emerald color of her dress seem dull, glanced up as he approached. She took his breath away. Smooth porcelain skin was set off beautifully by curly red hair, brought up into the latest hairdo. Her lips were curved into a welcoming smile moments before she turned her face away, leaving him cold.

“I-” He cleared his throat. “I apologize for disturbing you, my lady.”

Her eyes turned back to him and suddenly he could breathe again. “You aren't. Please sit,” she said softly and he took a seat, being careful to keep a respectful distance between them. Her smile faded, replaced by a bewildered frown. “I'm so sorry, I've forgotten your name.”

“We haven't been introduced,” he lied after a pause.

Her frown grew. “Oh. You seem so familiar to me, I feel like I would know you if I put my mind to it.” She laughed, the frown disappearing instantly. “Isn't that strange?”

“Yes.” Her hand lay just inches from his but while he had never been so aware of someone in his life, he didn't want to frighten her.

“We should dance,” she announced suddenly, rising to her feet.

He looked to the floor, seeking excuses his heart wouldn't give. “I believe its too late, Amrie.”

“But if we danced, would I know you?” She held out her hand. “Would I know you, even without an introduction?”

“We will have to wait to find out.” At the end of the hall, sunlight was beginning to creep in through the window, stealing away the shadows. They both watched for a moment before turning back to each other.

“You've kept me waiting long enough.” She replied, her smile sad. He reached out to touch her hand but she was already gone, swept away by the sun as if it was wind and she was nothing but dust.

He exhaled slowly, rising to his feet and moving back into the ballroom. The dance had finished, leaving behind dull metal and cobwebs. He crossed to the main doors and went outside.

He paused for a moment, admiring the beauty of the morning before setting out at a brisk walk. The way was familiar, even with the weeds and overgrown bushes hiding the path. The trees around grew thicker, hiding the light until he arrived at a small glen brightly lit.

He sat on the cracked marble bench covered in ivy and smiled to himself as he looked at the familiar stones. It always amazed him how wrong the artist had gotten her picture. Here, her shiny curly hair was untamed, pulling away from her head as if trying to escape. Here, her soft skin was blemished by freckles. Here, surrounded by the magic of the small clearing, she looked... plain. He supposed it was offensive but the absurdity of Amrie looking anything but beautiful was humorous. Although the eyes... the eyes were right. The green, sparkling eyes were perfect. No one could ever mistake those eyes.

He sat there until the sun began to set and then he went back to the house. Upon his arrival he discovered a flurry of activity. A young woman ran past him and he followed, curious. She led him upstairs to a master bedroom and he paused by the door to watch. A gentleman was by the bed, looking grave. “Theres nothing I can do. He's already gone.”

The young woman paled. “Oh, the poor thing. 'im all alone, too!”

He was in the room now, by the bed. The familiar, wrinkled face seemed almost like a strangers and he turned away. It was a broken face and a broken body and he didn't belong to it anymore.

“He'll want to be buried in the glen, next to her,” the young woman said through tears and he smiled in gratitude as he left. He could hear the music already as he opened the door to the ballroom, stepping back into the world filled with sparkling lights and laughing voices.

Green and black, green and black.

She spun, her head thrown back with laugher as a compliment to the wit of her partner.

Green and black, green and black.

Most of the other couples had come to rest, their dancing put to shame not by grace or poise but by the sheer outpour of life from the two spinning figurers.

Green and black, green and black.

The music drifted to a halt. Green flowed into a curtsy, black dipped in a bow. She turned, surprise on her face at the sudden appearance of the gentleman behind her. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you.”

“May I have this dance?” He extended his hand.

“I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being introduced.”

“Perhaps you're right but I believe you know me.”

Her smile was quizzical. “How is it you seem more like air to me than a perfect stranger?”

“If you were to dance, perhaps you would remember.”

She looked down at the outstretched hand and covered it with her own. As his arm encircled her waist he bent forward to whisper, “I'm sorry you had to wait for so long.”

Her eyes met his as they spun. “Lukas?”

“Hello, Amrie.”