The sky seemed darker that night. It was just the two of us sitting there in that room. The bright lights made the mood uncomfortable. They watched my every move waiting for me to wane from my current adequacy. I tried to occupy my time with frivolous acts of boredom, yet as much as I tried to avoid her she captured my attention. I knew, however, this was not her intention. In truth, I felt as if she would have done anything to escape from there.
My eyes wandered trying to escape her grasp. Nevertheless they always returned back to her. I admired her every curve: her leg, modestly crossed with her hands placed atop her lap; her neck, elegantly rising from the collar of her blouse, and her eyes, a shaded blue-green ocean from which the sun rises and sets. Her pose amused me, an elegant state of grace with no presence of faltering. The only time I saw her leave her refined posture was when the sudden pound of thunder split the night. Every time she jumped I only wished to hold her in my arms. I knew that I would never go as far as act upon my impulses, but outlying thoughts filled my head with hope. I, only a soldier put in this unusual situation by her father; and her, the General’s daughter, a princess; could never be together.
He had said that he wished to speak with me about matters most pressing. While I spent time pondering, his meaning, her presence consumed me. She made me feel; more than me, like my worth was compared with more than was simply met the eyes.
The storm had come quickly, not unusual for Manchester this time of year, but with it came a sort of evil, a dark presence that seemed to consume the world. The date was June 21, 1941; you could cut the tension with a knife as Germany prepared its troops for an offensive. One could only imagine what Hitler’s twisted mind was thinking.
The lights grew brighter then quickly shut off with a loud clap of thunder. She raced for the couch where I sat. I quickly grasped her in my arms. Her response, or lack of one, surprised me. She did not struggle or pull away, she only sat there appreciation my warmth. My eyes strained as I looked down to see her. I wanted nothing more than to feel her lips press against mine. Our eyes meet in the darkness and I leaned further into her gaze, my lips, no more than a finger’s width apart from hers, ached with anticipation. She closed her eyes and I whispered into her ear, “I’ll only kiss you if you want me to,” my eyes shut. I could feel the graceful curve of her chin tilting back and forth under mine as her mind wandered with thoughts of passion and guilt. Finally she succumbed to her desires and embraced my lips with hers. Our yearnings, baptized by fire, overwhelmed us; I was no longer a soldier, she was no longer a princess. Everything around us just disappeared. We pulled away slowly, breathing deep. We took in every second, every aspect of the moment.
Short pleasures are often long regretted. This phrase was burned into my head, like the image of a bright object in the dark, when the blinding flash of a camera lit up the room. I could only stare as our worlds crumbled before us.