CHAPTER 2: HUMBLE BEGINNINGS
Dalia was smiling, but not to herself. She was smiling at the beautiful gown before her, and the day was getting closer for her to wear it. She was happy, but something kept her from feeling this way, and she sighed at the thought of losing everything that had led her to this moment.
"Father?" Dalia called, but not an answer. It was silent in this house for a long time.
Dalia looked at the gown again, and realized she was a bit uncertain about the pattern on the far edge near the sides. It was shades of purple and blue and green flowers, little ones that were sewed on for hours by her father. Her mother would have done so, but she was too sick.
This made Dalia set the dress down gently on the wooden chair before her, and walked over to the bedroom, where her favorite picture was pressed on the small table, the first thing to be seen. The picture, black and white with brown trimmed edges, of her and her love, Deker. She was wearing a long white dress, and he was wearing, as always, his blue uniform with his sword at his side.
He was beautiful in every way, his long, black hair coming down to his shoulders, his eyes were the perfect shade of green, and his face was that of an angel's. He was more than a Samurai, he was the one and only man that Dalia ever loved. She smiled at the picture, the one they took the day he proposed to her on the hilltop, and her father was excited, preparing the ceremony immediately, but Deker said to give everything time, and Dalia agreed. But sadness soon covered Dalia's happy feelings just looking at this picture. Her mother hadn't gotten the news.
Dalia heard footsteps behind her, but she didn't twist her head. She kept staring at the picture. At Deker's beautiful face and figure.
"Is mother doing any better?" She asked, almost stumbling to get the words out.
"I don't know." A voice said.
Dalia's eyes left the photo and she turned her head. She knew the voice sounded familiar.
There he was, in his blue uniform, his sword dangling limplessly as his side, and his face covered with dirt, but Dalia didn't mind. She gave Deker a cloth from the small table as she stood up.
"Here." She said.
Deker wiped his face quickly, then he smiled. Dalia smiled. Then, they embraced with a strong kiss. It felt so good and so strong they didn't break it, but kept going. Until, finally, Deker pulled away. He placed his hand on her face. It was soft at the touch.
"I love you, Dalia," Deker said. "More than anything in this world."
Dalia felt Deker's touch, and it felt better than the kiss, she grabbed his hand from her face and pressed it deeper, his touch getting weaker. He didn't like to keep Dalia waiting.
"I love you, Deker," Dalia said, smiling. "More than anything."
She leaned in and kissed him again, but he pulled away fast. Dalia looked at him questionably, but realized why he did so.
"Oh, I forgot. Samurai's aren't supposed to kiss a woman more than one time. It's a stupid rule that should be forgotten." Dalia said, looking into Deker's green eyes.
"Rules of the Samurai life are like that of Bushido, but that rule doesn't apply to both."
"It does, Deker, you know that."
"Of course I know."
Dalia didn't care much for rules. All she wanted was Deker, and nothing was going to take him away from her. She leaned in closer to him, his breath cold from the morning air. She let her hands go to the back of his neck, and she closed her eyes. Deker kept his open, and his hands on Daila's waist, realizing what she wanted.
"No, Dalia. I will not kiss you." He whispered.
"What's one kiss going to do? Break your honor?" Dalia whispered, her eyes now open, teasing.
Deker moved his left hand towards Dalia's face and rubbed his hand to the back of her ear, feeling the dark brown hair flutter onto his hand.
"I guess not." He whispered.
Dalia smiled, and Deker smiled from seeing her smile. It was a moment that was captured with his touch, and her touch, and, slowly, eyes closed, they kissed. This time, it was the deepest kiss.