It's so beautiful out here tonight.

It's always beautiful out here, of course. The gardens are all perfectly beautiful, but this one is my favorite, and tonight, it seems exceptionally gorgeous. It helps that it's a lovely summer night, but I think that the thing making this all so special is really my dance partner, more than anything else.

It's not that he's such an exceptional dancer, because he's not. It's not that, or the full moon, or the flowers, or the music, or the air.

It's just him.

Because I love him.

Cliché, isn't it?

But I do. And for tonight, he loves me.

Maybe, maybe, he'll keep on loving me. I don't know.

All I know is that for tonight, we can have each other.

Tomorrow morning, we won't look at each other softly, we won't touch, and everything will be back to normal.

At least I'll have my memories. Not in the day, mind. Tonight ise far to fragile to be thought of under harsh sunlight. I'll save it for bed.

Well, don't I sound dirty now.

Maybe I am.

I don't care.

He's pulling me a little closer now, as the music of the violins slows, blending perfectly with the cicadas and the birds.

Beautiful, again. And again, it doesn't matter, in light of our proximity.

I'm so happy now, but I still want to cry.

Because we can't let anyone see us like this. Because they wouldn't understand.

So we hold each other. And we dance. And pretend the night will never end.

Because when it does, when the music stops, so will we.

This will be the last time.

The first time.

The only time.

When it's over, we'll never be able to hold each other like this again.

Never. And all we'll have left will be a summer night, to fragile to remember, too precious to forget.

But at least we'll have that.