Stomach tingling, excitement whirled inside of me. His hands felt firm on my waist. Firm, yet safe somehow. Deep hazel eyes glared into mine. They twinkled like the flashes of the spectator’s cameras, all waiting for the perfect shot. I didn’t look at them – couldn’t take my eyes off of his. His lips parted into a crooked smile and I felt my cheeks flush crimson as he held me close. My head fit into his chest and, in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. I forgot about the looming coursework and jobs applications. I forgot about trying to balance two jobs in a desperate attempt to dig up money to pay the rent. I forgot about the never-ending questions and countless decisions I was forced to make. His familiar scent lingered on my skin long after we’d finished dancing.
He still smelt the same, a faint mix of vanilla and autumn leaves. Wrinkles were carved into his face, each telling a different story, a new tale – one I’d never been a part of. His eyes flashed through mine, but they didn’t look at me the way they used too. The longing was gone. He just passed by, cane tapping the ground like his dancing shoes used to all those years ago. A pang struck at my heart. I missed those days. But, I walked on, syncing the tapping of my own walking stick with his. Time changes everything.