Caged Nightingale

He saw her for perhaps seconds, across a filled room, even then she had managed to stop time. Customers, sales assistents and even security, all frozen. Eyes followed the group across the shop floor and down the elevator. Captivated. 3 men: tall, dark and handsome dressed in cool beige linen suits had immediatly flanked her as she emerged from the restroom. The word "polished" came to mind. As if they had stepped out of photo shoot. Chiselled jaws, clear skin and darkly composed looks, which occasionally drew back to the women in their midst.
And who could blame them, she was striking. It was the only way to desribe her, she possessed features beyond comparison; pixie haired, alabaster skin. A woman with eyes the colour of sage. A woman, more fae than mortal. Graceful and demure. And completely unaware of the effect she had on her surroundings. She nodded to the men to show she was ready to go and they moved together. The men at her sides spoke with an air of polite familiarity that was puzzling. Brothers? Maybe. One could be a husband? It was unclear as they all seemed drawn to her. Bodyguards? No- there was a look of mixed affection, respect and something else- longing as if they cherished her somehow.
It was a remarkable incident that was seared into his memory. For yearis he had remained captivated by it.
Then she reappeared. She was different. . . Her hair was longer, hung in a velvety curtain at her shoulders and she seemed infinitely more amiable. He knew then he had to have her. He wasnt the man he had been 10 years ago.

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