 
You’ve given up your search. Months spent searching for the evasive angel of your fantasy world, for what? Not a trace of your Juliet. As you push open the door to the coffee shop where you first laid eyes on her golden aura, you feel the same intense rush of lust that you felt on that day that you came alive under her gaze. You look around, half expecting to see her smiling face and shiny blonde hair, but find no trace of her presence. You find a seat at the back of the shop and leaf through the pages of your worn-out, dog-eared copy of La Bohème. You laugh at the idea that one encounter has got you addicted to reading French literature and drinking cappuccinos, quite a change from your beer-drinking, sports-watching previous self. How is it that a woman you’ve never really even met can throw the planets out of orbit and realign the stars in your own personal universe? Then it happens. Just as you’re beginning to drift off into the dream, you feel the gentle caress of her fingers on your arm. Your nerves tingle with delight as her fingernails glide softly against the bare skin of your upper arms, and draw small circles on your shoulders. You force yourself not to turn around, to suppress your intense desire to embrace her before she disappears again. She runs her fingers through your hair and you feel goose bumps running up your neck. Ah, how you’ve missed that feeling… You can’t take it anymore, you decide to stand up and take your chances while you still have them. As you turn to face her she freezes, shocked by your boldness. You reach out to run your fingers through her hair and are surprised when she closes her eyes and purses her lips into a smile. It’s as though you’ve known each other forever. This time the dream doesn’t end with a tease; she’s yours, you have tamed the siren. |