Symphony
Overture.
His hands move fast but gently.
She closes her eyes, feeling every word.
He plays the piano while she sings.
Both eyes show tenderness. She is the only one who can do that – to fill his eyes devoid of any emotion with one.
And as he listens to her, he remembered what happened on that day.
--
Intermezzo.
He was crossing a bridge when he saw her.
Her translucent skin and long, wavy hazel brown hair. It was winter at that time – they were both wearing winter clothes.
She was taking Polaroid pictures of the river when the wind blew, and all of her pictures fell.
"Here." He said.
He gave her some pictures that landed within his standing range – a picture of the clock tower, city lights at night, a tree filled with white, and a boy and a girl snow fighting.
Her smile made him go out of his reverie.
And he found himself returning it – but this time, it had reached his eyes.
"Would like you like some coffee?"
--
Rondo.
The song ended.
He smiled.
And so she did.
"Do you still remember what happened that day? When we first met?"
--
And of course there is no finale – the rest is still being written.
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A/N: Please review. I hate seeing the number of hits and the small amount of review. ( Especially my story, Smitten. Imagine, among all the stories I've written, it has the largest amount of hits yet still, has no review? : ) I want to know what readers think of my story—whether it's good or bad. I accept flames, but please have some respect. And please, if you're going to give me one, please state a reason telling what made my story bad.
