Member-only story
The Symphony of Our Madness
A Story Where Eyes Speak Louder Than Words
She looked into my eyes, her hands tenderly cupping my face as if holding a fragile piece of art. “Tell me,” she whispered, “who are you?”
“I am the lover slain by those eyes,” I replied. “The night skies bear witness to my yearning, and the moon, luminous among stars, knows my tale. I am the one who watches you in a crowd, my eyes seeking you out like a moth to a flame.”
“Ah, you’re a poet,” she said, her eyes twinkling like the stars witnessing my solitude.
“Not a poet, but a madman,” I corrected. “Madly in love with your glances, your smiles. I emerged from the fog, perhaps from stillness, just to be with you. To watch those eyes that paint a smile of madness on my lips.”
She chuckled. “And who am I to pull you out of this madness?”
“Ah, you are the enchantress of my eyes, the guardian against all evils. You pulled me from a world of delusions I had inhabited for years, only to find myself enamored by your gaze.”
She looked puzzled yet intrigued. “You speak as if you’ve been in love for lifetimes, yet we’ve just met.”
“Ah, but have we just met? The moment I told you I loved you, didn’t you wish to scream it from the mountaintops so the echo could…
