All that would matter – Over the town by Chagall

Over the town by Chagall

He carried her into the night, held her waist, his leg delicately over hers.

It happened before two this morning, just before the moon spread its light onto the world. She opened her eyes and immediately knew. He was coming to take her away. She closed her eyes again, to feel the moment, shivered at the thought of his gaze on hers, his skin on hers. He drifted from the navy blue sky like a shadow escaping a body.

It was dark, but he could see her, from anywhere he could see her. Attracted by the warmth of her body, he reached for her hand on the pillow. Her fingers trembled underneath his, as if he was holding a leaf during of a windy day, and to reassure her during their take off into the night, he smiled, turning his head away, too timid to look into her eyes.

He was afraid because he had no idea. He didn’t know how she really felt about him, how each time the image of his face crossed her mind she would force herself to stop thinking. Their feelings were mutual, yet both were doubtful and unsure.

They felt each other’s pulse beat faster as they hover over the sleeping city. Together into the night, all that would matter is this music chanting in their hearts.