Does a love story demand words?

It has been two years in this job and nothing has changed nothing... Same chore, same routine, same official parties, same venue, same drinks. He was sitting on a chair in front of the bartender, same as usual. The loud music of the party seemed to have no impact on his facial expressions nor his state of mind. He has a glass of red wine in his left hand. The stillness of the wine clearly illustrates the stillness of his life. His loose body posture, with focused eyes on the ground, seemed to create a shield around him, which is hard even for the disturbance present in the atmosphere to penetrate.

A deep release of breath dissolved him into the atmosphere. He started to scan the room full of crowd, full of usual faces, but unknown identities. His scan halted in the middle, eyes started to sparkle as he saw someone unfamiliar with this mainstream crowd. The face was new, but his instinct said the other thing. The loud music started to fade out, the time was still now. In this never stopping world, the stillness of time favoured him to imprint her face in his mind. His soothing heartbeat is the manifest of his hopes.

She is wearing a red coloured semi-formal cocktail dress. There is something very extraordinary about her ordinary curly hairs that drop down till her elbow. Her face is a masterpiece in itself which don’t require any kind of judgement. Finally the lyrics, “You look so perfect standing there… Your lipstick stain is a work of art” of 5 Seconds of Summer started to make sense to him. Should he be thankful for the destiny, or the otherwise, she was sitting all alone, with her invisible shield. Her eyes appeared to be the gateway to the world, where the need of the words ceases to exist. He can spend rest of his life discovering those mystic eyes. He was travelling down into her eyes when suddenly an interruption came when their eyes first meet each other. There are many signals going on across the room, but there is one thing for sure. The same bar is brim-full to him as he sensed freedom and now he can be anywhere he wants, but with her.

He involuntarily started to move towards her. She resisted the move, as he observed the uncomfortable look on her face. He took his steps back respecting the resistance. There was a heat between them, about which rest were totally unaware of. Butterfly theory crossed his mind. He asked the circumstances to make things happen for him. He took his time before looking towards the person who rippled the stillness of his life. Surprised on his sight there was no one there. Restless, he asked himself, “Is this the end he never asked for?”

The anxious eyes rolled over the whole area, looking for her sign. Time was proving itself to be his enemy, but for long, though. There she is, on his left-hand side on the floor above him. They have the clear view of each other, at least there is no crowd in between, to hinder the view. She stood there with her hands over the handrail, smiling over his innocence. Their eyes met for the second time. Is this the click he is looking for, and maybe she?

He was getting answers to the questions he has never asked anyone before or might never ask someone else in the future. He is glad to find his freedom, standing there looking directly into her eyes. Now, both of them are seeing an escape out of the crowd in each other’s eyes.