Dancing Like Flames

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Pikku Huopalahti, Helsinki, Finland
One year ago, 2006

There had been a shift.
One that had evolved over the last six months.

In the beginning, it was subtle. Barely detectable.
He no longer reached for her hand and interlocked his fingers with her's.
Makes his hands sweaty, he says.

If they kissed, his lips briefly touched her's anymore.
A swift, barely there peck and away he went.

No cause for alarm, she thought.
They were not lovesick teenagers who needed to cling to each other.
This is what happens eventually.
After five years, they were comfortable.
Secure.

Then came the I love you's.
They stopped all together.
She would say it.
He would respond with a disconnected "you too."
If he responded at all.

Intimacy died completely.
He never held her.
Never let her hold him.
He stopped touching her in the way that made her grip the sheets and see stars in the back of her skull.

The flame had melted away.
There was nothing but ash.

The house was still.
An eerie silence enveloped the air like smoke as she waited, patiently.
Listening intently for the sound of his car.

Curled up in an armchair in the den, Rachel sat her glass of red wine down on the table and ran her hands through messy chestnut waves. Glancing around the room she counted the amount of accolades on the maroon walls for the umpteenth time.

28.

A melancholic smile pulled at the corners of Rachel's mouth. She was always so damn proud of him.

Her eyes lingered on one in particular.

"I wrote a song about you." Ville smiled sheepishly down at his guitar. Rachel's head shot up from the keyboard she was sitting at, her cheeks burned.

"Are you serious?"  She stared at him in disbelief, her heart soaring.

He nodded, "Yea, I did. It's actually going to be on the new album." A nervous chuckle escaped him as he raked a hand through his curls.

Grinning so broadly her cheeks ached, she asked, "So do I get a preview?"

Setting the guitar aside, Ville rose from his chair, leaned over the keyboard, and kissed her, "I'm afraid not, kulta."

Rachel groaned quietly, "That's hardly fair." Ville smiled against her lips, cupping her face in his hands.

"No one said life is fair, baby."

A tear slid down Rachel's cheek as she reflected.

"Almost everything is written with you in mind, but that one is different. It's completely about you." Ville told her. They lay in bed, still in a tangle of limbs. Her head on his chest as he ran his fingertips up and down Rachel's bare side.

Tears of joy and sorrow welled in her eyes, taking a ragged breath, Rachel responded, "I'll never be able to do the same for you." Shifting his weight, Ville propped himself up on his elbow. Gazing down at her, he kissed her gently. His hand loosely gripping her throat while he traced her jaw with his thumb.

As he pulled away, he dried Rachel's cheeks and said, "You repay me everyday just by being here, kultsi."

"I'm in love with you, Rachel." Ville added as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Smiling sweetly, Rachel turned and kissed his rough palm.