The Middle

It wasn't a coincidence. Their eyes meeting through a crowd of people, unable to look away, unable to move closer.

At that distance, they knew that moment had combined their hearts. Now, they could only figure how to go from there.

And the other person's name, of course.

It was a few steps, each taken slowly but with purpose. This moment in time would not and could not be rushed. They were not star-crossed lovers, rushing in the night to meet. This was a reunion, of old souls and soft hearts.

It was almost a dance.

In that moment, in that time, in their eyes, the world had changed. The two loved and lived together from that moment on.

A decade later, they traveled, discovering new things and new ways to love the other. Thus it was tragic, like life tends to be, when one fell and died in what could only be an unforunate accident.

The other sobbed and pleaded with any higher power that would listen, and as the two made eye contact for the last time, they remembered.

Remembered this wasn't the first life that they loved and lost. It was a cycle that kept repeating, only for one to die and the other to live with the memories of it all.

It was a curse.

That could be the only thing that described the situation they were in.

A situation where they were forced apart right after remembering their loves together.

One would never remember and the other would always remember at the last second... when a dying smile, just one last time, was given to the other.

After recalling every life they spent together, every good memory, every bad, one of them would then have to spend the rest of their life without the other.

This was never meant to be a blessing.

And in this death, the story begins in the middle. Life is not capable of so easily starting or ending. It could be said the birth of a person is the start, but truthfully it is not. Their beginning started with their parents and then their births and continuing on until the first.

This isn't the beginning nor will it have a true end. This is just the middle.

~~~~~

Balls weren't meant to be enjoyable, of that Rose never doubted. On the day of a ball, she would be waken before the roosters. Then she would spend the next 10 hours bathing in scented oils, picking out dresses and jewelry even though everything was already decided at least ten days beforehand, and not to mention the time it took to put everything on...

No one enjoyed balls, unless they were of the masochistic sort.

That was the only thought running Rose's head as she made her way to the ballroom. Correction, as her mother pulled her, tugged her really, to the doors with the noise raising slowly in sound.

"Remember, Primrose, a marriage partner is must outcome. Youth will not last, and you almost are past the age of marriage." Her mother hissed at her, fretting over her in her own, misguided way. Giving one last glance over Rose's attire for the night, she gave a barely approving nod and pushed her through the doors.

It was a blast of sensations at once, with the wooden door pushing against her, the bright colors of everyone around her, and the fake laughter and the off-key piano mixing together. Rose only had a moment to pull herself together. A deep breathe, then she moved with a purpose.

Towards the food area.

Instantly, her mother pulled her elbow, a polite smile already aimed at everyone around them. With a harsh tug unsuspecting of the small woman, her mother forced Rose through the crowd, pausing to make small talk with people who were either of marriagable age or people who had children of marriage blessing age.

It was during one of these talks that something finally caught Rose's attention. A hooded figure rushing out of the doors, almost casually but too early for it to be anything other than an escape.

As that person pushed the door away from the ball and away from Rose, they looked back and made eye contact. It seemed like time had stopped.

Almost hypnotized, Primrose glided away from her mother who reached to pull her back but was blocked by someone moving in the crowd. Carefully, Rose stepped towards that figure, who had paused in their action with their hands still on the doors and now was slowly closing them back. Soon the figure moved to meet Rose in the middle.

"Hello, I am Rose," She breathed out in awe, hands holding on to the other's, "I think we have met before."

The person tilted their head back, just enough that their face could be shown, a smile playing on their lips, "I'm Alex, and I think we have met before too."