Mi Morena

And so my love
From my window I can see
A beautiful vision
And when the music plays
Your body rises like a bird of grace

-Josh Groban, "Mi Morena"

It was easy enough to climb the building, to feel each muscle work in tandem to help him reach the top. His feet found footholds where most would see none. The boots made no sound as he made each step to climb the church. Soon, the roof was in sight, and he was there as well. Under the steeple, the moonlight refused to light his features. The shadow was he, and he was the shadow.

His fingers dug into the roofing as he leaned out, eyes watching the skyline of his domain. Each peak, each valley was familiar to him. It was, after all, his place to be. However, aside from analyzing where he ruled supreme, there was another reason for his midnight surveillance. It was here, in the dark of the steeple, which provided the best view.

Down on a balcony of a house was an open window, curtains billowing out. His own house, in fact. He wasn't looking at it because of that, though. No. Instead, on cue, a person came out. She was too young to be called a woman, and too blessed to be a girl. The boy settled for lady instead. She was dressed in her night robe, the silken fabric clinging to her feminine body.

The boy tried to blend further into the shadows as his eyes watched. She leaned on the rail, looking out across the cityscape. Her long hair was tied into a bun. He smiled at her. It was, in this moment, he felt happier. The lady frowned, and looked around, glancing up and down before heading back inside. In the warm summer air, she left the door open, the balcony a perfect hiding spot.

He jumped from his spot, running along the roofs, jumping as each cavernous divide came his way. He turned along buildings, a thief in the night until he'd come full circle – now he was looking where he had been. On top of the room, he could hear faint music coming from the lady's room. He crept down the ivy and hid behind the door, listening.

She was humming to the soft lullaby song. He blinked.

Soon, she came back out. This time, though, her body was moving with the music. There was a soft glow from the room, lit by the moon. As she exited, he saw each beam strike her, illuminating the light cloth around her. The loose sleeves billowed as she spun to the music. With the light on her, wings formed on her arms.

There was a blush that began to form on her cheeks, though he had no idea why. He was safely hidden behind the door, silently watching between the panes, view slightly obscured by the curtains.

The song took a new turn. To him it was barely distinguishable, but he could tell she thought differently. Tears began to build at her eyes as she tapped and spun with the song. The silken robe clung to her, the lace trim catching the candlelight. His eyes watched each movement, heart soon finding each beat, hammering away in secrecy.

The sun had long gone. The night was his, the night he shared with her. In the full moon, it was hard to find the stars, but they were above, and as she closed her eyes to sway and move with the lost notes, he thought of his metaphor.

Stars were no problem. She was the stars to his night sky.

He sunk deeper into the shadows. As the song ended and she dropped her arms, he watched. As the last notes faded into silence, he watched. And soon her dance of grace and beauty was gone, leaving him behind a door, a silent watcher. She headed back inside, pulling the doors shut behind her.

He let his breath escape. She hadn't seen him. If she had, she would have said something. As he jumped onto the ivy to sneak back into his room, he missed the blue eyes that peered through the curtain; he missed the small, shy smile that lit up his lady's face.

She would sleep that night humming the tune of her dance, heart full of pride.


I hope you liked it. :] There is not enough love for these two.

Reviews are much appreciated.