La Sylphide

I feel the familiar buzzing numbness from the drugs spreading over my mind and body again. Or maybe it is her lithe frame pressing against my side. Or the smell of her perfume in between the cigarette stench and old pizza. Or maybe the little pulses of light that escape from her parted lips every time she breathes.

I never could tell.

“That’s ballet.” Mina whispers like the zephyr.

“What’s ballet?" I answer after longer than it should have taken me to.

“The music. Don’t you hear it?”

Of course I don’t. Not with the amount of opiates I have in me. Not with her so close. Not with my heart beating so quickly.

“What you know about ballet?” 

But I know she is the swan in the lake.

“I did ballet.”

"No, you didn't."

The sleeping beauty.

"Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

My Juliet.

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you d—"

She gets up from the couch with surprising agility despite the cocktail of substances in our systems. It feels colder without her, sobering. Warmth erases all else as she smiles before me, the flash almost blinding in the dimly lit room. 

Her first movements are soft, as if trying to recall her graceful past. Her elegant body stretches and bends, feet pressing piano keys and hands compelling quiet violins.

I feel the melody building in my chest with her every step, with my every breath, with our every look. 

And then, on beat and with confidence, she twirls once. Twice. Three times.

Her usual oversized shirt and sweatpants miraculously turn into a shimmering, colourful dress. Her worn sneakers are now ballet shoes, pink and perfect like her lips. Her shiny hair frees itself from its usual ponytail to join her in this intimate performance.

Mina’s hands crescendo, and the violins swell. A frog leaps behind her, and the trees sway with the wind’s rhythm.

The river’s flowing freshwater forms a flurry of fluttering froth around the edges of her frock. The flowers fill the frame with her fragrance. The other faeries find my figure and take me to her form.

I hug her waist and hold her hand, heat hoarding in our breaths’ hums. I hear the hares harmonise in hope. I hope my feelings are hers as well.

Mina’s gleaming eyes meet mine, and in a moment of remarkable mettle, I mouth my matins.

“I love you too.” She responds, with a smile so bright the sun hides behind her wings in shame. 

They are pink and delicate, just like her lips, sweet and tender. Our first kiss is delightful. Perfect. The feeling years of bitter desire and repressed awe turn into once the fae answer your prayers.

The wind whispers our names, the grass tickles our feet and the violins embrace us in our dance. The world plays an orchestra at our wedding, and her laugh is still the most darling sound. 

I vow to love her forever, and she vows the same.

Mina’s wings flutter and my hold on her waist tightens as we begin flying. Colourful birds circle us and join the symphony of your beating hearts.

We fly higher and higher. 

I kiss her again.

I can’t stop kissing her.

She can’t stop laughing.

Her eyes shine so brightly with such strong love that it almost hurts me.