Dance. They danced, gliding across the polished marble floors, their heels clacking, heads turning their way, hands catching each other's waist, their faces millimetres away; people watched in awe, yet they couldn't tear their eyes away from e a c h o t h e r

Her pink dress shimmered in the yellow lights, her diamond earings lustrous, but in that moment, her smile outshone her frivolous clothing. His tie worth millions, his pocket watch gleaming, yet his eyes expressed more than anything else.

Enemies by blood, idiots by passion, and lovers by English language, they danced through the crowd; violin melancholic, their shadows dancing with the lights, chandelier twinkling, and forks and spoons clinking; they danced unaware of their surrounding—-his hands trailing down her cheeks, leaving goosebumps in her wake, her lips near his ears, her voice soothing his heartbeat—they dance, feeling a l i v e

Some cheer, some smirk, some watch with unbridled jealously, as they twirl each other. His hands circling her waist, making small circles against the fabric, her heartbeat threatening to consume her, his lips almost touching her—as they dip in perfect synchronisation—their breathes mingling, their eyes sparkling, their nerves alight—they break apart, slightly out of breath, but full of l i f e

—one dance, one single dance the prophets said, would cause their ruin. They couldn't have been more right, it did cause their ruin, their lives wretched, their parents disowned them, the people tore them apart, for loving the enemy could only cause unmeasurable pain; yet they cherished that dance forever.