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Sire and Madame

She rose from the table and hung up the phone, her white dress stained with red and her countenance, though pale, spotted with dirt and dust. Amidst all the trials, she knew she had done well--with help--and her blue eyes sparkled like crystals hidden deeply in a cave, of which one cannot know the beauty until one considers the surrounds, but, upon discovering it, cannot let it go.

Alas! she lifted her gaze and, with a graceful turn, faced him, her dear friend. Somehow, she knew he was there all along but had not previously paid him much notice. Out of the corner of her eye, she had viewed him, yes, how he listened to her every word, but now as he stood in the entranceway to her antique, humble home, waiting to take her out the the car where his mother and two others waited, she realized something had changed. The two locked eyes, if only for an instant or two, and she did not shy away. Even after the glance had passed, the image remained frozen in her mind--this newfound deep respect (even more than before), appreciation, and even admiration--all this she viewed in his eyes. Neither he nor she was certain what happened that day...or, at least, not yet.

At this point, typically, she would look down, break contact, and hide those gorgeous crystals of hers, the mirrors to her soul, but this time, she did not. She did not shy away; she was locked to that moment, to that instant--at last!--something she could not explain. Yet she was not afraid; she did not put up the wall of protection. What would she need it for? This was beneficial, upbuilding, encouraging, and positive, and he had already helped her so much. She unloaded her weapons, saving them for the evils that she would have to face at a later time. Why fight what is good? There exists no reason! Finally, this she discerned, and there was no doubt this was good.

"We should be on our way," he said, looking away. "The others--they await."
"Yes," she spoke, and she averted her gaze, instantly amazed. The dress she wore was yet white, the red gone away, and as she stroked her face, she discovered the dirt had vanished as well. She was ready for the others. She followed him out toward the car, but he stopped her at the doorway.

"You know, I like you better that way, with dirt and stains--that is who you are. You are lovable in every way," he whispered in her ear, and from then on, every time he would look at her, the stains and dirt would come back. A beautiful feeling emerged like a dove from her chest, her heart moved and touched beyond words. He had seen her now; there was no going back. Each time their eyes met, no one else was there; everyone else disappeared. They were in their own world, in their own trance, and could remain there for hours (or so they felt). She knew what was in his heart, what greatness he held, and he the same of she. This sensation held her captivated, yet what she never did forget were his next words to her, which nearly made her cry, coming from such a high, wonderful source: "You are beautiful." Even whispered, they echoed on in her mind.




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