Alba Darcy was one of those rare human beings, who was ruled entirely from within herself by her delicious desires. She emanated a luscious ambience that was perceived by the doubtful as a curious disillusion. Her soft romantic readiness made her every word glisten with a subtle hope and her eyes sparkled in a reassuring way. To hold her glance was a satisfying moment in which every second but the present was made irrelevant. Her laugh tumbled from her lips, each note like a mellifluous kiss that resonated in the air and echoed silently. Should she have the lust to, Alba could break a heart in a single beat but she longed for nothing less. She was a girl whose heart was strong in it's surrender but wistfully weak in it's self-defence. And this, if any, is the single most profoundly humble and dangerous virtue to possess. However, the fact that one can only discover this particular ethic in it's present state, made the deluge of Alba's spirit even more inevitable. It was simple. Alba would only discover the caliber of her paroxysm when she was seduced to release her heart. And it saddens me to apprise you that Alba Darcy released herself to a boy, a boy who, being only human, intertwined Alba's intent loyalty with his own scarred heart.
But, I am getting ahead of myself. For the progression, climax and aftermath of love are all equally consequential. So, I will start at the beginning. When the twinkle of innocence in Alba's eyes still burned bright, still smoldered with a passion, still flared with an intense despondency for tomorrow. That was yesterday.
To be continued...
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