First publishing here, and a strange one at that.
Word count: 500
The music spoke of pain and passion, the haunting notes vibrating through the air, sparking the dance of desire and despair. The two were alone in the music, fighting, loving, wanting, but deprived of. Such a tango could not end without a heart being broken, as it was to the Onlooker. Dark eyes watched the red of her dress swirl around, revealing cold pale legs beneath, as the man dressed in black was hypnotized by her seductive spell. His hand caressed her jaw line as the music slowed for just a moment. A twirl of fire and they danced once more, the Onlooker wishing, waiting, wanting.
The man in black did not know that the woman in red had been with others before him. Yet, the Onlooker knew, and the secret threatened to spill forth from such a lonely being. One little word, and the dance between the man and the woman would end. One lovely little word, the bane of all women of the night, and the passionate spark would fade. Oh how much the Onlooker wanted to say, but the secret could not pass their lips without remorse.
Though, they did not have to say a single word. The music swelled in burning rage, leaving behind the fiery passion it once had. The lips of the woman moved, but no words could be heard over the breaking of the man's heart. He knew, he had seen how the others around them looked at her, with lust, and heard how they spoke of her over the sounds of their love. She had not loved him, just used him, to gain social status. She would have ridden on his coattails to a life of luxury, while still wandering the streets of red passion at night.
He passed her off to the nearest man and fled the scene as the music died away. The Onlooker followed, needing to mend the broken heart. They had stepped outside, the air thick with humidity, threatening rain. The music flowed out into the night air, a waltz of dead passion waking the broken hearted from their slumber. No words could be said that would ease his pain. But, actions spoke louder than words, and the Onlooker wrapped their arms around the man in black and whispered away the sorrows as the moon moved across the sky. Cold was the silver entity, a mirror of the love that now ceased to exist.
The night lasted for days, the sun never rising between. The echoes of the dance would not leave his mind, not until the ballad of renewed love began to play. The Onlooker danced hidden, alone, above the false passions below. Now the man in black had become an Onlooker, to the quiet want of the original one. Slowly, the man joined the Onlooker. A startled note rang out as their hands met, a spark of imitation from the fire once felt. They danced together, as the night ended
The sun began to rise again.
Please let me know what you think!