#wra a

It always begins the same.

“Tell me about your tattoos,”  He says, handsome across the candelabra between them, charming with his smile.  She watches how his golden tooth catches with the candle’s light and realizes that rarely does anyone think to ask her this.

“You first,” counters she, sly and slippery.  She’s not going to return the favour, but he doesn’t know that.

He answers in a way he thinks will endear her to him, and as if on queue, she laughs; a delightful sound.  From then on, one drink turns to many, the sun sets and the stars rise high into the sky.  When they leave the tavern, it’s together.

Tipsy flirtations lead to hungry hands and luring lips— they taste each other beneath the moonlight and surf licks at their ankles.  In the distance, the cathedral bells ring on the hour.

It’s subtle, how she teases him into the water.  Deeper and deeper and deeper until suddenly, they disappear.

It always ends the same.