I have her pinned against the wall. My arms become a cage. She refuses to look me in the face, her eyes stubbornly focusing on the ground beside me. We are the same height but here she is so small, shrinking into the bricks. I'm not sure what this is. Am I threatening her? Is this an act of intimidation? Desperation? If she tried to escape would I...No. Never.
But somehow that never quivers as I pull myself closer to her. "Kiss me," I hear myself say. It's not a demand. But the simple statement is somehow menacing. Not in the tone, not in the words themselves, but in the speaker. I am driven by something dark and ugly and nameless and it's scaring her but I don't care because all I want is to take what doesn't belong to me.
Now she looks at me. Her eyes are brimming with fear and uncertainty. She is a caged fawn; fragile, beautiful, innocent. I try to press my lips into hers, slowly, gently, but she turns away, her tearful stare fusing with the concrete once again. I hover there, my lips barely brushing her cheek. I hover there for what feels like eternity and then I kiss her forehead. I taste her sweat and I inhale her perfume and I feel her hair tickling my nose. She's crying now. I walk away.
There's a party at her house. It isn't really her house, but it is. People I don't care about or particularly know are there. She's disappeared somewhere and I don't want to be alone. I wander around, snaking through crowds, navigating the stone paths lined with massive marble statues and painstakingly trimmed hedges that have somehow become hers.
I stumble upon a trail of discarded flowers. Violets, roses, daisies, a rainbow of flowers seeming to lead to...somewhere. I pluck each one off the stones and form a haphazard bouquet of clashing colors. The floral trail suddenly leaps into a small man-made lily pond. Flowers skirt around lily pads and fish and instead of making my way around the pond I am compelled to wade in it, adding the drenched lilacs and sunflowers to my collection.
The trail turns a corner and there she is, right where the flowers end. She's wearing a stunning red dress and she's talking to someone, her father maybe. I'm too nervous to interrupt so I stand there awkwardly with the bouquet and wait. During the conversation she looks over at me and blesses me with a smile so genuinely happy that I can't help but break into one of my own. The man she was speaking to walks off. She approaches me and I hold out the bouquet as a feeble offering. She laughs. It's the best music I've ever heard.