The Romantic

She smiled and shook her head before taking a drink from her bottled water, but not once turning away her gaze. “Want to get out of here?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, and they returned to Santa Lucia.

As they had done for the previous five years, they sat in the garden under the moon. They discussed their styles of prose, and artistry, because they both wrote poetry and shared a propensity for sketching. They talked about their inspiration, their dreams, and how dancing was exercise for the soul.

Over the years, their friends had left for El Norte. The American border merely a few hours away had lured many in search for work. Though their parents had refused to let them attempt the perilous journey, they loved everything about America: the music, the movies, the books and the sports.

Neither could believe how much they had in common. They felt a familiar comfort in each other’s presence. It was as if they had known each other all their lives and shared every breath and every heartbeat to keep pace with one another.

Every morning Hadriel woke and looked forward to seeing Sophia. And when Sophia saw him through her bedroom window, she raced with enthusiasm in her heart to greet him at the front gates.

There was an irresistible force that made them inseparable. Even on Sundays when she attended church with her family. So profound was their bond that Hadriel set aside his differences with God to be close to her.