Silent Wine

The wind blows gently through her hair. The clanking of an empty glass is always a depressing sound. The waiter impatiently asks “Ma’am, have you finally made your choice?”. Her eyes were more than brown and troubled as she looked up. It seems a hard resolution was swallowed for her to answer somberly “Can we try…Dancing Juice? It looks like a fun Sauvignon!”. Her mocking accent is either lack of elegance or trying too hard to demonstrate it. The pleased waiter leaves the woman adjusting her red and black overdressed gown. As the waiter pours her one drink she quickly grabs their wrist firmly to say “leave the bottle.”

Three tables away a blue eyed dark haired fellow has been watching her. After each glass she grows impatient and drinks from the bottle; it’s quite the sight to the other patrons but no one dares corrects her. Confidently, blue eyes walks to her table showing off his bright cuff links as he sits at her table; she’s unimpressed. They don’t speak but rather she orders another bottle. The waiter takes a gamble to bring another glass and pours the gentleman a glass.

As beautiful as his eyes glowed to her she dared not to fall into a trance; she knows this game too well. His eyes sparkle in depths of loneliness and in need of love. At first she drinks silently staring and waiting for him to make the first move. He stares into her eyes that appear dim and lonely. Within each stare a sip is shared and the more intense the looks become. The deeper they dive into the wine; the more the world stands still. Perhaps it’s the intoxication but the world appears blurry around them. What feels like hours passing she sits up to sip water. He seems baffled but accepts the challenge.

Her heavy eyes are slowly lightening up and softening while gazing at him. He seems to have caught her attention. There’s a curiosity floating about in her head craving to hear his voice. He lifts his hand and pours her another glass. He orders a bottle of Indulu to change up the taste and a small platter of smoked steak. They still say nothing. The wines pour one by one and when the food arrives; it looks as if her soul is being fed. Was his only purpose to revive her and leave? Will he tire of her silence and leave? Is this a flamboyant game? Is this love at its truest form? Has too many glasses of wine left her vulnerable? The silent stares morph into silent smiles.

Without warning he stands up and leaves the table. She watches him walk away and even dazzles other women along the way; he’s gone out of sight. She sits back in her chair awaiting his return but the withdrawal eats at her. Time passes by standing still that mentally she can hear the ticking of her digital watch waiting for him. He doesn’t show. The restaurant patrons are watching her slowly and some even in mockery. How long has she been at this restaurant? Time seems too straight for her patience. Leaning over too much will cause her to fall out of her chair but she does it anyway. She slams face first into the carpet. The waiter helps her back to her chair. When their eyes meet the waiter shrugs as if to answer the whereabouts to who she is looking for. She waits and she waits,

As the patrons leave one by one she is all that is left. The lights are dimmed but not as dark as she feels. Her hair sliding by the sorry candle left behind for her by the staff. The bottles racked up for her until she’s ready to move. The loneliness she sunders to grips her at her core and all of her past lives. Suddenly blue eyes sits back at the table. Angry she is at being abandoned but they continue heir slow dance of silence as they drink the night away. What seems like decades in each glass her smile slowly returns. She pours him a drink instead. They laugh. His laugh is like music to her mind. She wonders what does his heartbeat sound like.

Their glasses cheer each other “Salud!”. His voice ruptures her. A sense of foolishness grazes her heart and his thoughts are unknown. There’s a longing to trust and let the walls down. She wants to be vulnerable to only him. He recognizes her heart is on the table and he smiles stoically; it is hard to fathom the conflicting response. She’s not rushing but simply enjoying. They continue to sip in silence exchanging conversations without words. Perhaps it’s the intoxication but the wine feels deeper in her heart. There’s magic sparking light in a deserted dark room.

Their hands touch reaching for the bottle together. He leans in close and her heart stops beating as she holds her breathe; he gently kisses her with tears in his eyes. Are these tears of happiness? Is he about to leave again? As time passes their both beyond buzzed but connecting on a level only old souls recognize in each other. His skin is soft and alluring. He pulls her into his lap and she rests her head to hear his heartbeat. He holds her tight; so tight she can’t breathe. Breathing is optional when she can hear the music his body naturally makes. A slow inhale of this new intoxication brings her higher and higher. As she drifts deeper and deeper into the land of him, she falls out of the chair and hits the floor. When she looks around people see her on the floor alone, soaked in his scent and tears in her eyes; at the loss of her twin flames perfection.