Kinetic Poetry, a Romance fanfic

Kinetic Poetry

Her fingers create kinetic poetry, her slim hands in fluid motion, as she uses sign language. She gasps, her eyes widening in pretend fear, as she tells scary stories to her younger brothers and sisters. Then with a sultry flip of her hair, she becomes a seductress sitting in a corner with a drink in hand, flirting with her eyes.

His lips drop effortless syllables, his mouth tipping upwards, as he employs his business smarts. He talks, his eyes softening in feigned care, as he clasps hands with his clients, both prospective and current. Then with a cynical smile, he becomes a hunter stalking corporate gatherings with a Blackberry in hand, working with his charm.

Her (hearing) friend forces her to go to this party, so to socialize with hearing people instead of her own people - to learn how to be normal. The implications are so insulting that she huddles in a corner, angry and miserable. She can't read their lips, not in this dim light and not when they're speaking so fast. Everything about them is entirely wrong: their fat hands aren't moving like hers, their bodies aren't engaged. They aren't her people at all.

His (acquaintance) friend urges him to attend this party, so to mingle with beautiful women instead of his own associates - to remember how to be normal. The insinuations are so amusing that he lounges in a corner, quiet and indifferent. He can read their minds, even in this soft light and even when they're not speaking to him. Everything about them is entirely false: their painted mouths are pouting at him, their bodies are inviting. They aren't his people at all.

They notice each other across the room. Her eyes are her best feature, he thinks, because they're honest. His eyes are his best feature, she thinks, because they're secretive. So they try talking, but in a snarl of missed syllables and confusion, they realize they can't communicate. They're flummoxed because this is something not in their field guides. So they leave each other with fumbling excuses and apologies.

It's another party when they run into each other again. She blushes and he nods, and perhaps that's the end of their inept attempts, but they exchange email addresses anyway. When they talk online, all barriers fall away. Soon enough, she stays up late just to talk to him, and soon enough, he ignores his business emails just to talk to her. Here, they are created equal, their world one they can share together.

She giggles when she shapes his hands in clumsy motions, urging him to copy what she does. His fingers are stiff and awkward, but she loves him for it. He smiles when he introduces her to his friends, wanting her to follow his lead. Her voice is soft and rusty, but he loves her for it. They're too different, they agree. The odds are against them, but they're both stubborn, they also agree. So they'll fight to stay in each other's worlds, two odd ducks swimming together because in the end they have the same voice.

AUTHOR NOTE: Parallel structure this time. I thought it was the last one-shot that accursed girl would make me write, but alas, she came up with one more assignment. Then again, it meant I gave her an assignment too. Heh heh.