The Weeping Willow

Peeping Tom, the second letter

Peeping Tom, the second letter

* * *

I am most sorry that my previous letter was cut so short, I had to take my niece, Lucille, to her piano lessons. Oh, I wish you were here. Lucille can play beautiful music and I believe that with your exquisite dancing and her wonderful pianoing that the two of you would make a brilliant pair. But I don't even know if you still dance anymore. It's been so long...

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes! The first time you and I met, technically speaking.

I had of course seen you before but never formally met you. I would only come over to your home to be with your brother, only catching fleeting glimpses of you during your family's summer night parties.

So, this was the first time that I was actually able to see you. And you did not seem very happy to see me.

You stalked over to the bedroom door, yanking it open so violently that I nearly fell on my face. "What are you doing here, Peeping Tom?" You sat down, beginning to unlace the ribbon around your ankles.

"It's Kenneth actually." You glared at me, standing up as you discarded your pointe shoes across the room.

"But you were peeping, were you not?" I nearly smirked at this question, for you looked quite humorous when you were annoyed. Your skin knit together between your eyebrows as your eyes flashed at me, your nose crinkled slightly.

"No, and if I was I do sincerely apologize for that was not my intention at all." You stared at me indifferently, turning your back to me as you walked over to the record player, taking the record out.

"Apology accepted," you turned to me, your eyes so clear and blue that they reminded me of the blueness of the ocean in far off islands. An ocean that only appears on postcards. "However, what was your intention," you paused, looking out the small bedroom window. "Kenneth." My heart accelerated when you said my name.

Calm yourself! I told myself, trying to look just as indifferent as you did when actually I was bursting at the seams. "My intentions were to discover where that noise was coming from. Then I found you." I met your eyes, nearly shivering at how they seemed to pierce into my soul.

"I see, well now that you have sucessfully discovered where the 'noise' was coming from, I suppose you best be on your way."

"Way? Way where? None of your other family members are here, it's just us."

"Oh," you scuffed the heel of your foot against the worn white carpeting. "Well, since you walked in on me practicing, and I really must practice, I suppose that I could practice with you here. Either that, or you could just go home." You were already putting on a new record as you rubbed your feet before you slipped them back into the pointe shoes.

"If I can, and it doesn't make you uncomfortable, I would like to watch you dance. Because from what I saw earlier, you dance wonderfully." You blushed a bright red at my compliment, as bright as a cherry. I smiled, sitting on the floor as the record started and you began in fifth position, your face wiped clean of all emotion, pure concentration was there instead.

You danced beautifully, and, if I do say so myself, that first day we met was possibly the best you've ever danced. Of course, that was when you and I were several years younger so anything at the age seemed better then when we were older.

I sometimes wish that I could go back in time to those early years when our lives were carefree and blissful, at sixteen years of age anything was possible to us.

Anything at all.