The Phoenix And The Albatross

First Times for A Second Time

Albatross did come back. Not forever. But A year later. And we danced. I danced. With him, Through the pain. And the memories. The ones that we both remember. We look into each other eyes and they all come flooding back - uncontrollable and vivid. As if we were right back where we were. And he never left.

It was the day Leyla's music premiere. She quit her job - opened a music shop with Emre, Leyla invited me and Emre invited his brother. His brother. Yes it was Him. And there, at the premiere, Albatross and Phoenix stood face-to face. Infront of each other again. Him and I.

No one feature makes Him so handsome. Though his eyes come close. People often speak of the colour of the eyes, as if they are of physical importance. Even though he would be beautiful in any shade his were cedar-sighted, with an earthen look, a malt-musing mountain gaze. Like the evening dust, set by setting sun. They were honey molten , darkly golden and when my gaze met his our whole story was reflected in them.

From Him comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Not one of weakness or trite politeness, but one of great spirit and noble ways. What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within; it makes me want to feel how his lips move in a kiss again, how his hands follow the curves of my body again. As each year passes, the lines will deepen upon his face, he will be more handsome still. As if his soul shines through his skin, I can't help but want him. I remember his actions; but even then I long for him - desperate and waiting. For him to hold my hand again and look into my eyes with his. At the premier, that's exactly what he did.

"Shall we dance?" He questioned. I looked around at the dozens of couples hand-in-hand under the lights, unable to answer his question. He was patient - he stood still as I tried to articulate a response. He could tell I was jealous. Jealous that the couples under the spotlight danced happily - with no problems. He could tell I was desperate. Desperate to dance with him . I didn't even need to answer his question. He knew me too well, laughed a little and answered the question for me,

Time stopped moving as he took my hand and twirled me into his arms, I took a deep breath and slipped my hand through his. His fingers curled around my hand gently, like I was a fragile doll made to break. As we stood on the dance-floor, the scintillating lights gleamed a dozen shades of every colour; soft piano music ricocheted off the walls in lulling, sweet tones. We fell in step, letting the rhythms control our movements. All the scenery and people around us dissolved. It was him and I, alone.

My eyes glistened, he said, and I smile had spread across my face.

Uncontrollable feelings surged through my body, and my fingers tingled in delight. My hand brushed across his soft beard, My body was acting on its own, no chains to hold me back from pure paradise, He drew me close to his chest, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I couldn't help but get swept away in the magic of it all. It felt like our First dance for a Second time.

It was so easy to fall into.

Even the first time we danced . I remember. When he stole me away from the crowd of the agency party and took us to his hut. The hut that belonged to him. But after that dance, he said it belonged to us both. Ahh, that dance. People say you never forget the first, That you talk about it and tell it forever.

"You owe me a dance, Albatross."

I remember the exact words I said. I remember exactly what happened, even though I was completely wasted in front of him. Our first dance, I was wearing his clothes. At his hut. With him. Just us, alone. I called him "Kotu Kral." He was my Bad King. He laughed and looked into my eyes, took my arms and I pressed play on the record.

The delicate music faded into the background, as my drunken eyes (for I guzzled down half a bottle of red wine through nerves) began to close. Time again came to a standstill. Some things don't change with him. Time always halts when he's close to me. When he holds me tightly. I set my head onto his shoulder tiredly as he was practically holding me up at this point. He continued to dance with me - both too lost in the time to halt. I brought my head up and sleepily opened my eyes. I leaned in and planted my lip on his. He wrapped his hands around my waist and held tight as the kiss continued. I woke up in the morning on the small sofa in the hut, listening to him axe wood to top up the fire. A smirk appeared on my face as I listened. Reminiscing our First dance for the First time.