Part 1
The moon
The balcony dimly lit by the light poring from the room behind him. The light breeze lifts his dark hair causing it to flutter in the breeze. His dark chocolate brown eyes looking out over the river, the glass of crimson red wine held forgotten on his strong hands. His tall frame elegantly draped in a formal Armani suit, that makes him look as ominous as made him look approachable. His normally smiling face set in a look calm and serene. Most would ask a man like this what he was thinking, but none were around to ask. All were inside dancing, and toasting, and drinking. The thought running through his is in fact a song. He quietly almost under his breath hums the song. He closes his eyes having seen the sight before him many, many times, and sighs. The sound of clicking heels alerts him to a guest, the clicking stops feet behind him. He opens his eyes and looks up at the starry sky, the moon full and vibrant and for a moment he envies the piece of rock floating there in the sky. He envies how it can be there, so beautiful and clear, so big and yet so small. He chuckles at him self but his line of thought continues. So close so peaceful looking down at the earth, yet so untouched by all that's going on, and he envies that he can't be the moon, so big and glorious and yet so humble.
He sighs and looks away. Instead he looks to the horizon where in the distance he just makes out the form of the Eiffel tower. He turns away from the sight and the memories, turns to see her pale and perfect her red hair held up by bobby pins no doubt and the fiery curls, glowing by the dimmed lights, remind him of the dancing flames of the forge, and he curses himself for comparing her to hell, yet at the same time he so strongly desires to wrap his hands in that torturous flame, and hold the pail elegant beauty before him close to look at through the faint blue glow, and to no that she is real, she is really there and not some image conjured up to keep him going, to keep him same. He thinks of all the times he undressed her with his eyes, of all the times he looked at her and never before saw the beauty that stands before him. He steps closer to her his locked onto hers, her blue eyes like crystal so rare it could never be found. He slowly travels down to the bridge of her nose to the light dotting of pepper under her foundation.
Her eyes travel down to the glass of wine in his hands, her crystal eyes open wide for a moment as though surprised that the glass is the same one he had for the toast. He looks down at it is for a moment why it isn't his third instead of his first. Then the lyrics to the song he was humming earlier came to him, and he looks up at her. That's why he finally decides the reason is right in front of him the beauty that he so often dreamed of in the hell, the beauty he longed so much to look at. He smiles lightly and slowly turns from her he holds the glass of wine up to the moon still on the horizon he watches as the liquid sparkles and dances mirroring the waters bellow, and slowly ever so slowly the red liquid slides from his glass. He watches the stream glitter like liquid rubies in the moonlight, and all to soon the beauty of the moment is gone. He turns leaving the crystal glass, wine glass turned over and resting silently on the balcony rail.
