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Sabaidee thook khon,
SJD's forum's quiet as usual. I guess, all our members must be very busy. Guess what? I will continue annoying everyone with my Valentine's spirit. Hope my story's not misleading or disturbing other members in any shape or form. it was just pure entertaining, so enjoy...

Creative - Part I,

He lay in that dream-like-state, half way between sleep and wakefulness, arms encircling the pillow. Clouds scudded across an almost full moon, and wind blown branches scratched with tendrous fingers, just beyond the window. Through dream-laden eyes he watched the speeding cotton clouds, and thought of that other moonlit night, those weeks before. He'd suggested a walk by the river, but it hadn't happened, and somehow he'd felt it inappropriate to press the matter.

He turned over, relaxing his hold on the pillow, and drawing his knees to his chest. At these times he felt so wretched, not that the pain was as raw as it had been,not now. It was an ache that only became pain when she was on his mind. And there she was, now, dressed in blue, and being beautiful. Her butterfly memories rose on fragile wings, and lingered on the edge of his sleep. How could he not love her?

For her it had been a moment's dalliance, a mere touching of lips, and the squeezing of another's hand. But it had been enough to fire, in him, the emotions that had lain just below the surface for so long. And now that he had the fire, he had no means of quenching it.

She drifted from one state, to another, in those dreamy memories, now dressed in blue, and then reaching to attach a glittering curtain. Beneath, there was the knowing of a rightness, a kind of feeling of belonging. Not that he thought she should belong to him, but he had felt a commonality between them, right from the start. She'd fitted his dreams. But for her, well, he couldn't know.

She sat across from him, and enticed him, with wondrous eyes. Big brown things, that darkened when she felt emotion. And there she stayed, as he drifted into sleep. He fought, momentarily, for sleep took her from him, and that was a cause for regret.

There was no knowing how long it was, his eyes wouldn't focus on the red digits of the bedside clock. But he came awake, not with a start, but somehow unwantedly. It wasn't a new phenomenon, it'd happened the night before, and the one before that. Indeed, it had happened most nights, since he had met her. It wasn't something he could easily explain, he'd never had any problem sleeping, he'd always been able to switch off, and drift right on in. And there he would stay, until morning brought a new round of half expected misadventure.

But not now. Somehow, he now had a feeling of things undone, of pieces not being where he wished they would be. And it was enough to bring him awake, at this outlandish time in the morning. He tried, again, to focus upon the clock, but it teased him with it's red eyes. The moon had moved, now it's glow lit the far side of the room.

His back ached, and he sat up, adjusting his pillow behind him, easing some of the tension from his body. He'd sit, just for a while, until he dozed off, again. Wasn't that what he always did?

There had been a time, years ago, when, he now would have lit a cigarette. But that habit was long since forgotten.

The feeling of "missing pieces" returned, and she was the most significant of those. For him she had held such promise, and brought such brightness. It had been easy, being around her. He had turned, and there she was, standing with the group. He had no illusions, it wasn't a case of eyes meeting across a room, and instant recognition of a soul-mate. No, for him it was more a case of smiling inwardly, and an appreciation of the way she was. He knew, that, before he spoke to her. Somehow, she carried it with her, like an aura that surrounded her, an extension of inner self.

And, that made her beautiful.

She was slim, very slim, with black hair that flowed onto her back, like a falling of some dark, bubbling, stream. And, ahh, those beautiful eyes...

They were here, coincidentally, to help decorate a wedding venue, both are friends of the Bride/Groom, though unknown to each other. It was the Bride who introduced them. He grinned at her, and caught the brightness of her lovely eyes. And she was there, in those eyes, strong, and independent.

That, warmed him.

She cut, and he hung, and soon, between them, they had a glittering backdrop to the dance floor. Some, slight, familiarity grew between them, and he found her bright and purposeful. For him there was no doubting her loveliness. In passing she told him of the death of her boyfriend, just months before, and then he knew of her, and felt a sadness. She had been present, along with the Bride, at her friend's passing, and he could only wonder at the sadness which she must have inside. But she seemed happy. And for him there was a suggestion of a complexity that he wanted to know.

The Bride gave them a seemingly impossible task, and she grinned at him, "I think she wants you to be creative", she said. He looked at her, "I don't know how!", came his soft reply. But between them they managed something, almost an anything, but it worked well enough.

He called a "Goodbye", when she left, sometime later, and hoped to see her on the following day.

He looked around for her, at the hall, and found her close by. She turned, her hair cascading across her back, and smiled a glittering smile. He returned her smile, and whispered a "hello". His eye was drawn to her, and there was a pleasure to be had from that sensing of aura. She had an innate sense of self, which radiated from her, and enticed his mind. She stood, back toward him, dressed in that blue dress, slender armed, the rounds of her shoulders inviting the softest of touches. And she was the center of his attention.

Later, at the meal, he was delighted to find her next to him, and they talked, just a little. He felt at ease around her, she seemed so natural, and friendly. There was no flirting, or suggestion of anything between them, just a companionship, two people who happened to be together on consecutive days.

At the wedding party, there was talk of "absent friends", and her boyfriend "got kill in the car accident" in particular. She could not contain her emotion. She wept, with an honesty that melted him. He reached for her hand, and held it, gently, wanting to do more, but knowing not what. He would have reached for her, and held her in his arms, if she hadn't been so beautiful. But beauty has a price to pay, and how could he know how she would respond? He knew, without a doubt, that if he held her, then, he would weep, too.

The moments passed, and she was comforted by one of the Bride's Maids. And he felt regret.

He also felt love.

She sought him out, later, as he sat alone and drank from a glass. "Hello. Are you alone?", she asked, as she slid into the chair beside him. The music, from the band, thumped in his ear, but he smiled, and leaned toward her.

"Hi", came his reply, "yes, I'm alone for the moment. I don't dance much,it depends upon the music".

She smiled, a tiny smile, and sipped from her glass.

Truth was, he was a little surprised, he'd seen her, in that blue dress, from the corner of his eye, and hoped beyond hope that she was heading his way. And when she had arrived, so, then, had pleasure. She flashed, and sparkled. She was easy to talk to. And slowly he felt a, kind of, rudimentary chemistry growing between them.

In fact, the music aided the sense of intimacy, leaning toward each other, in order to be heard.

She told him of her life, and spoke, a little, of her boyfriend. She explained how she had been surprised by the words, and he thought she might have been embarrassed by the incident, but she didn't show it. For him her tears were part of her, a symbol of caring, and softness.

Her life had not been easy, since her boyfriend has passed away, it had taught her many lessons in life. Some, which he was later to find, she had learnt a little too well.

He was intrigued by her, and, as they talked, she span her enigma. She asked him about his life, and he was non-committal, thinking himself boring, and much preferring to talk about her. He had no idea just what had brought her to him, and why she had sought him out. But he had thought, just briefly, that she had cast more than a single glance in his direction. He'd put, that, down to an overactive imagination. - Geez, there couldn't be anything beyond friendship, and perhaps a little loneliness, she was so beautiful, and, well, he was just him.

He looked in to her eyes, for the millionth times, and saw the brightness of her, looking out. And, his feeling of chemistry grew.

It couldn't be that she felt the same, could it?!!!

It was noticeable, when someone else came, and sat alongside, there was a distancing, and the chemistry was stretched.Things became more formal. And eventually, she moved away. He watched her go, with more of that regret.

But she didn't move far, and he thought he caught further glances, in his direction. He wondered if she caught his.

The evening was wearing on, and he'd gone seeking friends. They'd stood and surrounded by a group of friends, chatted, and laughed. He was returning, to find his drink, when she came the other way. She had her jacket in her hand, and was placing her bag on her shoulder. He was dismayed. "Are you leaving?", he asked, and he didn't catch her reply. He reached for her hand, and knew that this could be the last he saw of her. He had intended, simply, to shake it, as a farewell gesture. But he looked at her, and saw her brightness, and couldn't bear for her, simply, to walk away.

Should he ask for her phone number? It wasn't really a decision, it was just him, he always threw away his best chances. And this was one that he would regret for a long time. He didn't ask for her phone number, instead he smiled, and said, "I'll see you again, I hope". He still had her hand, and it was with reluctance that he started to let it slip, as he moved away.

But, then, came another surprise, she didn't let go!!!

She squeezed, such a squeeze, so hard that his fingers tingled, when she finally let him go. He reached out to her,fingers lingering, as they moved apart, and finally, she was gone.

He didn't look back.

He dare not.

To be continue…
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