Tuesday 6th January 1878

If you ask me when I did fall in love with him, I wouldn't be able to give you an answer.

I will also probably never be able to explain how he could bewitch me with the only power of his emerald eyes, how he could make me feel like we had known each other for years when we hadn't even talked to each other yet, how he could tell exactly what I wanted without a single word from me, how such beautiful eyes could always carry that sad glow with them, how he could make me fly without leaving the ground, how a word meant one hundred others in his mouth, how he managed to make his hair look like a perfectly organized mess, how he seemed to leave this world whenever he was dancing in the air, how he could be so fascinated by Darwin, Aristotle or Sophocles or how the whole room seemed to lighten up whenever he was entering it without any scientific explanation.

But what I can explain is the way my eyes couldn't leave him when I first saw him flying with a grace women would kill for, the way the only thought of him was bringing a smile to my face, the way his kisses made me feel like I could live a thousand years, the way his touch was making me lose track of time, the way his dance in the air made heaven look bland and his beauty made Apollo look ridiculous, the way I could follow him until the end of time with just one glance from him, the way hearing his name made my heart beat faster or the way I felt myself dying and my world crumble when I woke up alone that fateful morning.

All your childhood your parents teach you the rules of courtesy, how to use a fork or a spoon, how to make friends, how to resolve equations, how to debate properly, how to defend yourself during a fight, how to act like a real gentleman, how to have good grades at school, how to please your employer, how to avoid suspicious persons on the street, how to woo a girl, how to play chess, how to forgive the one that hurt you, how to love the other like yourself to be a good Christian. But what they don't teach you it's how to act when love and desire hit you in the face with the impact of a tsunami. How to cope with the weave of decency and desire that fight like two tigers inside you. How to handle those overwhelming mixed feelings that command you to act and stand still at the same time. How to love a man when you've only been taught to love a woman.

If you had asked me what I imagined my life to be like before him, I would have told you a good job, a house, a wife waiting for me at home, cute little children playing in the yard. Maybe a loyal dog. What normality tells you to wish for. But with all the immoral and indecent side of our affair, it was worth tenth or one hundredth time better than everything a man could wish for. I don't care that I blasphemed all the laws of God, that I made myself prisoner of a ghost, that everything between us was desire, passion, heat and unpronounced love. It was worth it. Call me a disgrace to my family or the society, I don't care. I don't care because I had him.

Sometimes when I only have my thoughts to keep me company, I look at the past and wonder if he was real. If it wasn't my brain making up such a gorgeous thing to illuminate my boring daily routine. If he was human. If we should be allowed to look at someone that beautiful, if we were supposed to see something that heavenly. I don't and probably will never know the answer to that question. Blinded by my selfish wishes I would say that, yes, we were supposed to meet. But sometimes I think that the world, our world, doesn't deserve someone that beautiful.

Sometimes I like to believe that this circus was only called the "Cirque du Printemps" because of him. He was awakening the sleeping flowers in everyone's soul after a harsh winter. His silent dance whispering to your body that it was time to wake up. His eyes softly caressing your heart with their mysterious glow. He awoke feelings in me that I thought would lay dead, buried somewhere deep into my soul, forever. Fascination, adoration, desire, love.

Since the day he left, every day is winter for me. Everything seems to lay down, asleep forever. The flowers don't blossom anymore, the sky never turns from grey to blue, the trees stay naked even during the warmest days, snow and dust cover the sidewalk. Sometimes I even wonder if the world hasn't been like that all along and that the only reason I wasn't seeing this desolated version of our world was him. Spring disappeared with a circus and so did my reason to live.

My life has been quite a mess since the day he left. There's no need to hide the truth, my life is what you can call a "life of debauchery". I've lost my ambition and never took it as far as I wanted to take it. I didn't make any "new discovery that would change the history of biology" as he would have said. I'm sure he would get angry if he knew that. He would probably frown and lock me into a room with books to make me find back my "passion". I've been frequenting prostitutes that never gave me as much pleasure as he used to give me. I even tried to settle down with a woman. She brought his ghost back too much to my liking and, after many dishes were broken and many screams were heard, I ordered her to get out of my house and to never come back. Not that she was against the idea anyway. I don't seem to find a point in doing what I used to love doing. Ah, you would say that I'm depressed. I don't know. I think I am just bored. It's like life has pressed the button "pause" and is just waiting for him to hit the "play" button.

I will never forget how my common name suddenly took a magical consonance in his mouth. Like it was the most precious thing in the world. Nor would I ever forget the first time he looked at me, making me his eternal prisoner.

I don't know if we were meant to be but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I don't care that we lost it. That everything that ever was between the two of us vanished with that damn circus. Those enchanting eyes, those feet that could walk on the air, those hands that could wake up my wildest desire, that voice that could keep me in trance during the whole night, that little head of his that even laying on my chest was up in the clouds. All these are my most precious treasures. My most precious memories.

He was a huge mystery. You could never tell what he was thinking and sometimes I felt like his body was trapped in our world while his soul was wandering somewhere else. Wonderland or some undiscovered galactic planet, I will never know. I loved all that aura of mystery surrounding him. Being with him was like stepping in a world you couldn't see. I was walking blind in a world I didn't belong to. In all the research in biology that I made, never had I faced an enigma like that. I was trying to solve a puzzle without the pieces and its owner seemed to skillfully prevent me from finding them. Sometimes I wondered if all those hours spent dancing in the air didn't make his soul vanish in the clouds. If he had already left this world long ago, only to leave his heavenly figure to our contemplations.

My parents used to tell me that there are three things in life you can't miss. Birth, love and death. Well he brought those three things to me. I was born with his touch, I was in love with his rare nostalgic smile, I was dead when I woke up alone that fateful morning.

If I should paint love, it would have green eyes, sandy and messy hair, a pale skin and the grace of an angel. It would have a face. It would have a voice. It would have a name. Arthur Kirkland.

And I never had the chance to tell him that I loved him and that I still do.

I never had the chance to tell him that a life without him isn't worth living. That he makes my heart beat faster. That he is my everything. That I want to grow old with him. That I want to die by his side. That a life where he isn't there with me every second isn't a life. That I want to hold him in my arms and remain lost in this moment forever. That I dream of his kisses every night. That everything I see, everything I do brings me back to him. That the stars look pale compared to the light he brought to my life. That he makes me forget everything else. That he is the only thing that matters. That he's my heaven. That he is the only thing that I want. That he's the love of my life.

I wanted to tell him all along. It will always be my biggest regret to have let him go without telling him those three little and simple words that could have changed everything. And it's killing me. Killing me to know that I let the best thing that ever happen to me go away without putting up a fight. I just stood there like an idiot, crying on the bed that he used to share with me.

I don't know what would have been the appropriate thing to do back then. But what I know is that letting him go wasn't one of them. I would give everything to see him one more time. Even if it's only for two seconds. I would give everything that I have, everything that I am just to see his angelic face again. I would cut my two legs, sell my soul to the devil or search around the whole damn word until my body would fall apart just to be able to see him one more time.

What would he look like ? Would he still dance for people ? Would his eyes still have the same sad glow ? I highly doubt the last one. He probably found someone who could succeed where I failed. Bringing happiness to those two green diamonds.

I spend my days wondering if it would have changed something. If we would be together if I had said those three magical words. If he had known that I love him and that I still do, would he be with me at the exact moment when I write those words ? Would he still be dancing for me ? Would he kiss me the way he used to ?

I will never know.

Now our story is not a fairy tale, it's not an inspiration to others. Nor are we role models to the society. It's just a ridiculous mixture of undying passion, unspoken love and shared heat. It's only the testament of a love that never had the chance to live.

Alfred F. Jones

N/A :

Sorry if there are many mistakes I didn't see when I was writing it ^^' English isn't my native language, I've only been taking it for 5 years at school and I don't have any beta so :')

The "cirque du Printemps" means "Spring's circus". That's why Alfred says that he wonders if the circus was called like that because of Arthur.

I've never changed a story as much as that one. It took me one month just to write the prologue and the first chapter because I was always changing them. It takes me A LOT of time to write my chapters. (And they're also really long xD Well no the prologue isn't long but it's because it's the prologue ;P But to give you an idea, the first chapter is 8500 words long :P) So please don't be mad at me if I don't update quickly. :') I really don't know how people can write a chapter in two hours it amazes me xD I will try to update once in a week but... Well I can't promise you anything. xD School is going to start soon and everything.

So I wrote that in Italy. (Roma inspired me for that story, don't ask me why xD I was just sitting there, eating (or drinking ? รด.o) a granita in Capri and suddenly the idea popped in my head.) When I was writing it I was like "Why can't someone write something like that about me ? ;^;" I'm just going to pretend that I wrote that for me. Nope. I'm not forever alone I swear.

Oh and there's a reason why it's rated M. If you don't like adult themes or things like that, don't read it. :) The sexual part softens after a while but the beginning is quite ... well sexual xD Don't expect them to beat around the bush and all. So prudes be warned. ;)