Their dance was like a poem, a painting, an enthralling love story, passionate and pulsating. Gradually, everyone was immersed in the romantic atmosphere they created, their hearts intensely moved, filled with indescribable emotion.
The man was robust and graceful, gentle and romantic like a medieval knight, while the woman was proud, elegant, and coldly magnificent like a queen. Their dance was like a poem, a fairy tale.
As Mr. Tawil watched, he became completely immersed in his memories. Suddenly, he felt someone holding his hand. Looking down, he saw his wife with her head bowed, her body gently trembling.
Shock struck him; he quickly crouched down and faced his wife, only to find her face wet with tears.
She tightened her grip on his hand, lifted her head and looked at him; her gaze was the same as it had always been, even though they had both aged and their youth had faded.