by Mark Dodge

Created on: October 05, 2009

The lake was unnervingly still. The old willow hung mournfully from the bank, admiring its reflection. A drop of dew slid down its old, twisted, bark-covered fingers, sending the most insignificant of ripples through the water. A gentle breeze wound between the trees, finding its way with only the glow of the moon as its guide. Leaves rustled restlessly, trying to fight the fast approaching night.

She sat alone, under the hanging willow. Only her watery reflection stared back, unable to look away. A frown on her face. A passing thought. An unimportant thought, of the past. Maybe the present. Definately the future. So unclear, each path clouded in doubt and mystery.

He walked to the waters edge, noticing a small ripple reach the shore; an insignificant ripple. He was searching. For her. An upset in previous days was to blame. He looked into the heavens, only to find the moon looking back, intent on his face. Then he sees. Sees her on the other side of the lake, under the willow. He should have known. Their first meeting place. It hadn't changed.

She was watching him now, not blinking, not wanting to miss a thing. He was approaching cautiously, like a wolf prowling its prey. But he bore no signs of malice. Instinctively, she played with her earlobe, and bit her bottom lip. Nerves had got the better of her.

Nerves had got the better of him. His hands were shaking, sweat forming between the lines in his palms. But still he walked on, not taking an eye from her. There she was, a goddess in a suit of flesh. He knew he had found perfection, sent from the heavens themselves. But what had he done to earn something so purely beautiful?

She brushed the hair from her eyes and could see him for who he was. A man, a gentleman. A perfect being, eternally kind and selfless. Too humble to realise his purity. A man. Her man. She could hear her heart pounding, twice as fast. No, it was different beats, like separate hearts. She could hear his heart too.

A large gulp and a long sigh and he was upon her, wary of her flawless features. Wary, and yet, excited. In that moment he would have grabbed her, held her close and kissed her while the willow dew fell around them. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection, he supposed. He cracked his knuckles subconsciously as he sat down beside her.

She knew her breathing was heavy, but she couldn't help it. He was so close now, but she loved it. She was always in control in her life, but now she wanted to be controlled. She wanted to

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