Title: Dance Until We're Dead Status: Complete Characters: Samantha, (You) Rating: SFW Classification: One-Shot Author: SurprisinglyDeer Summary: Life would never have been worth living without her. As I sat there with a drink in my hand, I could not help but glimpse at her now and then. Across the room, where I sat at a lonely table, sat a spunky and young pterodactyl woman. Around the same age as me, if I had to guess, but I never was the type that could easily guess these sorts of things. I never paid much attention to those around me, especially in a romantic sense, but something about her is so alluring. Her heavenly blonde hair is braided as it lays on her shoulder, a shoulder covered by a brown leather jacket. As she turns around, I can see that she is wearing aviators Were they knockoffs? I sure as shit didn't know anyone that wore proper aviators. I'd be afraid to go out in public with them on, afraid that someone would snatch them from my face or that I'd accidentally step on them. Although I cannot see her eyes, I can feel a burning sensation as I am stared back. Through her sunglasses, she is staring at me and I am staring right back at her. That burning sensation forms on my face as it begins to turn a light red. Thoughts race through my head as I watch her put down some change, down her glass of whiskey, and then she began to make her way over to me. Foot by foot, she is coming closer, and I don't know what to do. I am frozen, but I don't know why I am frozen. Is it fear? Does she scare me? As she inches closer and closer, all I can feel is fear. She scares the shit out of me and I can't help it. Why? Is it because I stared at her? Fuck, is she going to tell me off? I should probably leave. Before I can even place my hands on the table to push myself up, she has made her way over to me. A light blush adorns her face, although that was likely due to the alcohol. She comes to a slow stop, one hand resting on the table as the other lifts her aviators right off of her face. If I was standing right now, I would've been swept off my feet by her beauty. Her wonderfully green eyes stare back into my dull, brown ones. My jaw drops ever so slightly as a smug grin adorns the side of her mouth as she begins to speak. "Y'know, I see 'lotsa folk starin' at me, but you're the first who doesn't look away when I look back", she said as her voice threatened to knock me unconscious. She had decided to speak with me? I'm nobody special. One of the only few humans around as the acceptance of our folk hasn't exactly come into full swing. I can understand why as we haven't exactly been the kindest to our dinosaur friends. "Y-You do..?", I stutter out like a nervous high school boy. I can't stop shaking, yet thankfully it isn't something that she can see. Well, I hope so. "Huh? I just said so, so yeah! You're the only person who seems to have the balls to keep on starin', so naturally...I'm a little curious..", she said as she pulled out a seat at the round table and sat across from me. Oh fuck, she sat down with me? "O-Oh..", I stammer as I shift the drink in my hand. "'Oh?' That is all you have to say? I thought you were more confident than that!", she commented while leaning back in her chair. There was this aura that surrounded her that was infectious but terrifying. I had never felt like this towards anyone, not even any of the few lady friends that I had, so what was her secret? "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at you..", I admitted while shifting uncomfortably in my seat, nervously looking down at my now warm drink. Great, watered-down whiskey. "You..k-kinda stand out.." All falls silent for a moment as the world around me is deafened, my eardrums only picking up whatever her reaction was. I began to worry about what I said, anxiety welting up within me. Had I said something wrong? Had I been too truthful? Women loved a stoic man, knew what they wanted, and was the one initiating the conversation. So why, why was she approaching me? I was supposed to be the one approaching her! "Hmm, I guess I do. Only other women in here are looser than a rubber goose or are already hitched to some biker..." Did she just say that she was single? "..but I know what you're thinkin'. I'm single, you're probably single too. Maybe you are, maybe you aren't, but I want to ask you something.." A knot begins to tighten in my stomach as that same fear begins to erupt from within. Is she going to tell me to screw off? Is she going to grab a bottle and smash it over my head, calling me a "pervert" for staring? As I am lost in thought, and as she is waiting for a reaction, my eardrums are able to pick up on something. The radio that sits on the counter has been switched from country music to some of the newer stuff. The radio host is finishing recapping the last song by the time the woman asks me the question. "Care for a dance?" Then, the man announces the next song as its catchy beat begins to engulf the bar. The tune even makes some of the scruffier-looking men perk up, but it was at this time that I realized I was staring. Staring right into those eyes, yet again. "I-I..." "So a yes, then! Get yer' ass up!", the woman said as she shifted off her jacket. A light blue tank top was revealed underneath, the straps of a black bra poking through the thin straps of the top. She reached out her hand, forcefully taking hold of mine. I hadn't even taken the time to finish my whiskey as she hoists me up from my seat. I now know why this woman scares the shit out of me: she is strong, so strong. Her grip is nothing like a woman's but like that of a proper working man. I'm almost ashamed to admit that this lady damn near crushed my hand. As I am drug out to the floor, her strong grasp takes both of my hands. The song begins to play as her body soon shakes about, resembling what some might call a "dance." I can't help but stand there in awe, unmoving, as her confident face stares back at mine. Her eyes seem to beckon me to move my body as I try my best to dance along with her. For those four long minutes, I am in bliss. The lyrics drown out everything around us as it is just me and her within this world. I am happy. You're out of touch I'm out of time But I'm out of my head when you're not around ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "You're burning it!" A panicked gaze adorns my face as I do my best to move the spatula along the pan, trying my best to keep the egg from searing against the cast iron. I never was much of a cook as neither my father knew how to cook and my mother never thought to teach me. It was just assumed that I'd always have a wife around to cook for me, but right now, this wife of mine was doing her best to teach me how to cook a damned egg. "I-I'm not burning it! See!?", I exclaim as I flip the egg over to reveal the bottom of it. It is around this time that the yolk of the egg bursts, releasing its yellow goodness onto the pan. Once again, I have failed to make a proper egg. "..well, maybe not yet, but you're gonna! Give it to me, we're scrambling them now.", an angelic voice told me as she shoved me out of the way and took hold of the pan. I nearly bust my ass on the tile floor of the apartment's kitchen. As usual, she could mop the floor with me. She was one of the few women that took a job in construction, while my flimsy ass worked in an office, and it certainly showed who the breadwinner of this household was. Well, apartmenthold. We weren't quite up to buying a house just yet. "I can make scrambled eggs!", I protested even though I knew damn well that I couldn't. Well, I could, but making them in the microwave didn't count. All I could do was sigh in defeat as my shoulders shrugged, a defeated "yes ma'am, you can.." coming from me as she moved the spatula around the pan. Five years had passed since that fateful night in the bar. We danced and danced together up until the closing of the bar, during which we were kicked out and forced to dance in the parking lot. It would be a lie if I had said that it had been the happiest day of my life. No, that honor was taken by the day I kissed her on that altar. I was scared shitless during our whole wedding. Her father scared the shit out of me even more than she did. The first time she brought me over, he sat on the front porch with a rifle in his hand. He told me about his rifle, how it used the ammunition that the military used, and that he had plenty in it for whenever someone hurt his daughter. He didn't even need to use that rifle to scare the shit out of me. His arms alone could rip my scrawny ass in half. Even though he still scared the shit out of me, I couldn't help but notice his happy tears during our wedding. He and his wife cried with joy almost the entire time, up from when he walked her down the aisle and only ending whenever the whole ordeal had finally come to an end. I had never seen him show anything more than his stoic self up until that point, so it was a welcome surprise. He turned right back around and threatened to bury me underneath the house if he ever learned that I hurt his daughter. I burst into tears and pleaded with him that night. Thankfully, I've yet to hurt her. I hope I never do. I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger, my free hand moving to slowly feel it. Every time I saw it, it reminded me of her, and it filled me with nothing more than pure bliss. This ring was what bonded us, even if it was superficial nonsense. Our feelings for each other would never be brought into question, but the ring was a nice reminder about our status. "Hey hun, mind turning on the radio and fetching me some biscuits from the refrigerator?", she asked while bringing me out of my trance. I stood there like an idiot for a moment, my mind working overtime to figure out what she had said, but her expectant gaze helped me to catch up. "Oh, right! On it!", I said as I quickly turned my happy ass around, making my way over to the refrigerator. It was little more than a few steps away as I opened it, reaching inside to take hold of the tube of pre-packaged biscuits before I shut the door and turned to the cheap little radio we had in the kitchen. I moved to turn it on, my hand switching from the power button to the volume knob as I turned it up. It was already tuned into our regular station, which was now taken over by a new host that was catching the world up on the news. "Hun, biscuits!" "I got them!", I said as I hurried on over back to her. I handed her the tube now, watching as she moved the scrambled egg off to the side to make room for a new pan. After a little bit of preparation, the biscuits were ready to be cooked. It was all so simple, yet it was beyond me. How she could turn these cheap biscuits into a hearty breakfast was beyond me, but I never complained. If store-bought biscuits were this good, then no telling how good her homemade ones were. As stood there, a smile on her focused face, I could help but just stare at her like the night that I first saw her. Everything was starting to feel strangely familiar, minus the alcohol and the smell of sweaty bikers, and I began to figure out why. My ears tuned into the radio as a song started up, both me and her knowing just what was playing. You're out of touch I'm out of time But I'm out of my head when you're not around I watched as her rear began to swing from side to side. Not in a lewd way, despite how much I loved it, but in an excited and groovy manner. It was infectious as I couldn't help but slowly wrap my hands around her stomach, pulling her closer as she began to boogy. Her hands left the pan as she turned to face us, our world beginning to feel a little less small as we began to dance around the apartment. A kiss was shared here in there, the word "dweeb" was exchanged quite a few times, and those four minutes brought back the nostalgia that I didn't know was possible. Only five years had passed, how could I already wish for the old days? These days were the best I had ever lived and I was far too young to be feeling this way, but here I was. The song was beginning to come to an end now and my hand wrapped around her stomach. We were both caught in a giggle fit as the beat began to fade further and further from the radio, the tune slowly being replaced by the radio host. She was still grooving about, but something was beginning to seep into my mind. I rubbed her stomach, my fingers feeling the familiar strength within, and something was new. Something was poking out. Something was slowly growing inside of her. What was...? BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! "Oh shit, the biscuits!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The two of us watched as our daughter and son went out on their first day of high school, our hands raised in a wave as their eager eyes stared at us from the back of the bus. The years hadn't been the kindest to us, but we had two wonderful children to look after, and that was okay. As the school bus made a right turn in the distance, the two of us were left alone in our home. Yes, our home. We had been able to save up enough for a mortgage on this beautiful home and now we were truly living the dream. The front door to our house soon came to a close as I was brought out of my thoughts, a soft breath escaping my breath. "Hey, hun'? Samantha? Hun'bunch?", I asked my wife who had begun to make her way toward the bathroom. Oh, now probably wasn't the best time. "Hmm? Yes?" "I-It can wait! Go clog the toilet for me, will ya'?" "Eugh, you're disgusting!", she said was a faux gag while eagerly making her way over to the door. The sound of the door latching was heard after the door shut, leaving me alone now. Alone with my thoughts, it seemed. That was alright, this was something that I needed to think about anyways. I made my way over to our couch, my body dropping like a sack of potatoes as I sit down on it. My head rests on the back of the couch, my eyes now looking up toward our tall ceiling, and I can't help but feel a sense of dread. Something has been welting up within me for a while now, something that I have been so deathly afraid to tell her. Nobody knew but I and it utterly shattered my being. I'm so scared, scared even more than the first day that I met her, and I can't help but break into a cold sweat. My now clammy hands clasp together, my fingers feeling our wedding ring. I trust her with my life. Hell, I'd trust her with even more if I knew what I could give. There wasn't anyone else around that could make me feel the same way as her. No other woman, or man for that matter, had ever caught my eye. Any lewd thoughts that I ever had were with her, any dreams I had were with her by my side, and all my failures were with her by my side. We had a bond so strong that not even a chainsaw could cut it. No bullet, knife, axe, or sword could cut through what we had. With that being said, I couldn't help but feel that this was what was going to be the thing to sever us. This was serious and I was scared. The sound of the toilet flushing brought me out of my thoughts. I heard the door open now as the smell of strawberries began to emanate from the bathroom. If I didn't know any better, I would think that it was natural, but it was just the smell of our air freshener. Too many foreign food nights had caused us to permanently plug in an air freshener. It was probably something we should have in there anyways. "Whew, thankfully you ain't gotta do nothin'! All went down just fine!", she said as she walked around the couch and sat down right beside me. I couldn't help but cringe a little bit at the comment. We had grown so close together and we could share anything, but it was the little crude jokes like that which made me question how close we are. I didn't need to know that but thank you hunbun. "Well, that is good..", I say a little too solemnly, a reaction being brought out of the love of my life by my unusual tone. She leaned forward now, looking at me. "..what's wrong?", she asked me with a small pang of fear in her voice, which scared me even more. She was never scared, she was my rock. Yet, as she asked me that question, I couldn't help but fall silent. My clammy hands stayed together as I looked away from my beloved wife, scared of what to say and unsure of how to tell it properly. She began to catch onto my hesitation, her hand slowly moving to rest on my pajama-covered pants. I still needed to get ready for work. "You can tell me, love. What is it?", she asked as a hint of begging built up in her voice. I'd do anything for her, even if it meant breaking our bond, and I couldn't break her heart by not telling her now. We had built up too much trust, too much love. If it was going to all come crashing down, then I might as well get it over with. With a shaky breath, I reached my hand out for hers and clasped down on it. She didn't seem to mind my clammy hands. "I...w-went to the doctor's the other day. I-I had an..accident at work and I had to get a checkup.." I said, guilt building up as I admitted to something that I kept from her "..and they ran some tests. I...I was lucky that they decided to do those tests, because..b-because.." By now, my whole body was shaking. Tears were beginning to welt up in my eyes as I feared beratement, feared her anger. I'm so afraid that she is ready to call it quits there before I can even tell her what is wrong, but as my tear-covered eyes look up at her, all I can see is a worried and expectant face. I had to push on. "..t-they said..t-that I have..some sort of..disease. My..my muscle tissue is being eaten up and...there is..n-nothing they can do..", I finally admitted before I break down into an ugly sob. The buildup had been with the tears and the payoff was snot flowing from my nose as tears began to drop down onto the couch. I can't help it, I'm so scared. I suffer for a good few seconds before I feel a hand wrapping around my head. I close my eyes as I fear her getting ready to beat the shit out of me, but I am met with surprise as she slowly pulls the side of my head down. As my head is lowered, I am beginning to get a familiar feeling as I know right where I am going, and soon I feel the softness of her thighs as my head comes to rest. Age hasn't been the kindest to her. She isn't as strong as she used to be and she has become a much more petite woman, but she is still perfect in all the areas where it counts: everywhere. Even as her form shifted, my love for her never shifted away. Her strong stomach shifted to a comfortable one, her hands went from back-breaking to soothing, and her gaze ever-loving. I'm so afraid of losing her, yet as I wail and cry upon her lap, I hear the unexpected. "I'm..I'm here for you..", she said as I hear a soft sniffle from her. Isn't she angry? Why doesn't she hate me for keeping this from her? She has every right to! The husband is supposed to take care of the wife, not the other way around! "B-But..I..I won't be able to take care of you.." "Is that what you are worried about, dweeb? Hun, nothing will ever keep me from loving you. We'll get through this, I promise. I could be sick in bed and I would still fix your breakfast if it meant that you'd start feeling better." My ugly sobs start all over again as that vivid image pierces my frail heart. The image of a pale and sick pterodactyl cooking biscuits and gravy in an attempt to make me feel better. It is an image enough to bring about even more heartache than before. I turn around on the couch, my face now facing her stomach as I do my best to wrap my arms around her. Please, please don't ever let it come to that. I want to take care of her for as long as I can. "I know you do, but let me take care of you too.." It seems I muttered. Sounds like a familiar trope, doesn't it? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A sharp pain escapes my knee as I stand from the swinging bench on our front porch. I've lived so much longer than I thought I would. The disease within my muscles is progressing so slowly that it is nothing more than a mild nuisance these days, which is a relief. Still, my knees had gone bad long ago, and that two-story home was beginning to get to me. I and the wife had agreed to move, our daughter taking over the house as she soon expected a second child on the way. She had met a handsome man throughout her years in high school and, despite my initial doubts, he turned out to be a great young man. I did my best to not scare him, as I only wanted to warn him about treating my daughter right, but he was still scared shitless of me anyways. He could beat my ass, but he would never have the balls to fight back against me and my cane. It was a funny image to come into my mind. An old man beating their daughter's husband with a cane. It was enough to elicit a cough from me, much of my laughing these days seems to end up in that. I stare out at the setting sun now, nothing but flat plains before me, distant farms doing little to ruin the view. I and Samantha had moved out into the quiet countryside, a perfect single-story house being situated out here. It was only two steps up into the house, which was much less than what we had inside our previous home. A small sigh escaped me as I looked back on the memories we made in that house and the apartment before it. The times we made breakfast together, figured out ways to pay our bills together, and danced together. That last part was difficult to think about. It had been so many years since I had danced with my wife. Age had not been kind to her. Reaching forward, I'd grab my cane as it rested against the porch's railing. I used the cane from support as I began to turn my body towards our front door, a sad sight being seen within my peripheral vision. I did my best to not look at it, but I couldn't help it. That wheelchair ramp was a constant reminder of what old age meant for us. I opened the screen door before opening our main door, my sorry ass slowly hobbling into the quiet house. Over the years, things had begun to get a little disorganized and dirty. Dust coated the least used surfaces and organization had been thrown out the window entirely. It was a mess, but a somewhat organized mess. I was the only one that was able to figure out where everything was these days. I hobbled my way between the kitchen and the living room, my eyes looking over at the small number of dishes in the sink. I've had to start cooking for myself these past few years and it was difficult, to say the least. Samantha had never been able to teach me how to cook in my younger years and one couldn't teach an old dog new tricks. My failing vision barely made out the burnt food sticking to the pans in the sink. I didn't have the strength to wash away that sort of stuff anymore, so I usually just threw them out and asked Fang's husband to bring me some new cookware. He always obliged, but sad eyes dawned on his face every time he came over. He knew what I refused to believe. Past the kitchen, I entered the hallway of our home of a single bed and bath. A small pain shot up my knee as I walked past the bathroom, but I sneered through it as I slowly hobbled my way over to the bedroom door. Pang, fear, guilt. These were the things that I felt as I stood before the door, my eyes staring down at the knob. It was like this every time I entered, but I knew that I couldn't just stand there. Every time, I had to psyche myself up and push on through the pain. I had to do it for Samantha. After letting out a small sigh, I turned the doorknob and pushed my way into our bedroom. The temperature was much different in this part of the house, much warmer, and it was the only way that I was able to keep Samantha from getting cold chills. I stopped in the doorway as I looked at the bed, half of it taken up by her. My beloved wife who was no longer there. All that lay there was a being that looked like her and sounded like her. I worked up the strength, if only barely, to hobble on over to her now. The sheets and comforter covered her body, the only visible part of her body being her face; her poor tired face. Age had not been kind to her as wrinkles adorned her face, yet she was still as beautiful as the day I met her. Her face showed little in the way of emotion as she couldn't even remember how to think properly anymore. I had cried many nights over it, but by now, I had become normalized to it. How could this be normal? I wasn't entirely sure, but it scared the shit out of me and I wish I could cry. I wish I could cry and pretend that this wasn't normal, but I couldn't lie to myself like this. This was what the cruelness of growing old together brought. It was so scary. Even as these thoughts passed my mind, I couldn't deviate from what needed to be done. I slowly moved to take hold of the comforter and sheets that covered her body, not before I put my cane to the side before and slowly moved them off of her. A white bathrobe adorned her body, which aided in keeping her warm while also helping make cleanup easier. Sometimes, she made messes, and this was the best way for me to access cleanup. All those years of unclogging the toilet after foreign food nights had prepared me for this, at least. After removing the covers from her, I'd move to carefully take hold of her frail shoulders. As I began slowly lifting her, I was reminded that I was now the strong one, and it hurt me so much. So much about my wife had changed and, although I still loved her dearly, so much about herself was gone. I wish that the husk that had taken over her body would leave and bring my wife back, but I knew that it was hopeless in wishing for that. It was time for medicine. Carefully, I moved her delicate legs over to the side of the bed as I sat her up fully. I had to carefully kick her wheelchair out of the way to make room. She had forgotten to walk at this point, necessitating the need for it and the ramp outside. Oh, how I missed... Medicine, yes! I needed to give her the medicine. I reached over towards the nightstand, taking hold of a pill bottle. I struggled to open it for a moment but finally got it open after cursing it out. I shakily shook a singular pill from the container before putting the lid back on, my hand now taking hold of a glass of water on the same table. I couldn't stop shaking as I slowly brought the pill up to her mouth, the tip of it pushing against her lips as she dully stared right back at me. It took all of my strength to not break down as I tried to force the pill into her mouth, but it simply wouldn't budge. My shoulders sagged. "Hun, you need to take the pill.." I said, knowing damn well that she couldn't understand me, but talking to her always helped me. Maybe she could understand me and just not reciprocate it? I hoped. I hoped that my words did not fall on deaf ears. She needed to take her medication, though, and I was left a little dumbfounded as to what to do. Then my eyes gazed over to the radio that sat on the nightstand, the doctor's words beginning to ring in my ears. "Sometimes, music can help bring back some lucidity..." It was worth a shot, wasn't it? At the very least, I'd get to listen to some tunes. So, carefully putting the pill in the same hand I held the drink, I'd reach to turn on the radio and then turn the volume up. It had been a long time since I had turned on the radio, but the frequency was the same that we always used. The ending of a song was playing before the radioman began to talk, the man sadly not the same one that they heard before burning their biscuits on their fateful day. Maybe the radioman would help her? Remind her of the past and bring back enough function to swallow the pill. All I could do was hope as I lifted the pill to her mouth, but sadness began to fall over me as her mouth didn't even budge. She was still nothing more than a husk. "Please, Sammy...just take the pill.." Then, a familiar tune. One that I hadn't heard in so long and was announced by the radioman as a "vintage classic". I knew that beat from anywhere. It was the same song that I and Samantha danced to on our first night together. So many memories began to flash through my mind as true nostalgia began to hit me now, tears beginning to slowly move down my face as I remembered the good times that we had. I missed those days so much. I delved into the reaches of my mind, remembering all the good times that we had, but a suckling upon my finger soon brought me out of my trance. I looked over at my wife, who had taken the pill into her mouth and my finger along with it. The excitement began to build inside of me. "Y-Yes, there you go! Good, good. Drink!", I said excitedly as I removed my finger from her mouth. I'd carefully tilt her head up, putting the cup against her lips. She began to drink. She began to drink! If I had a tail, it would be wagging like mad right now. She remembered how to take her pill! As she emptied the glass of its contents, I put it back on the nightstand before my attention was fully brought back to her. Her eyes stared into mine as the song continued to play. The familiar lyrics were beginning now and I could feel myself inching closer. As the main part of the song began to play, my lips slowly lowered to hers as I kissed her. No, we kissed. She reciprocated my kiss. You're out of touch I'm out of time But I'm out of my head when you're not around Her arms slowly wrapped around me as our kissing continued. I could feel her weight in my arms as she began to push herself up from the bed, surprise overtaking my mind as I almost forgot to hug her back. I supported her weak legs as I hold her tight to my body, our kissing coming to a close as we slowly begin to sway side to side together. Her dull eyes were full of emotion now as we slowly danced together, contrasting the funky beat of the 80s song, but I was so happy. She looked so happy too as memories began to flow back into her head, things beginning to click in her mind. "Hun...", she said with a hoarse voice. My heart skipped a beat as it had been so long since I had heard her wonderful voice, even if it was nothing like it used to be. I was reminded of why I was still here for her, even if she wasn't mentally here most of the time. I loved this scary woman with all my heart and I would do anything for her, just as she would do for me. I'm reminded of the day I confessed my fears to her and how she said she'd "I could be sick in bed and I would still fix your breakfast if it meant that you'd start feeling better." I'm beginning to understand why she said that. Here I was, getting down in my back and my knees, doing the best that I could for her in an attempt to make her better. I knew that it wasn't working, I knew that eventually, she'd be not of this world anymore, and all I would be left with are memories. It was these memories that I cherished, but it was the present that I cherished the most. "I love you so much...", I said in a hushed whisper, leaning down to lightly kiss her on the mouth for a mere moment. "I love you too, dweeb.." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ That was the last time we danced together and, subsequently, the last day that we were both in this world. When the time came for her to finally be put to rest, I laid down in the bed with her and joined her. My body was tired and life was not worth living if she wasn't there with me. It was like the higher powers above knew what we wanted as he rested together, the both of us in each other's grasp as we were taken into the clouds. The funeral was somber, yet our family knew that it was inevitable. I was so thankful that Lucy was able to take it without breaking down too badly. Life had too much heartache to cry over those who had lived their life and were ready to move on. Besides, there was no need to be sad over us. The two of us were up in the clouds now, dancing the days away. Her strength and youth have returned as her grasp continues to scare the shit out of me, but I care little. This was the woman that I married, that I danced with, and it is the woman that I will spend eternity with. Forever, we dance together as we look down upon the world that slowly forgets about us. We watch as our daughter's children have kids and our family line slowly dwindles until there is nobody left to remember us. Lucy joins us, her husband joins us, and soon the entire family is here. It is a happy reunion as we all dance together and reminisce. We look forward to every day brought upon us. Every day, my wife is within my grasp and I am happy. My mind often goes back to that day we first met and I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I had looked away. What would have happened if I had left that bar before she had been able to make her way over to me? Every time, I am whisked away from that thought as Samantha brings me back to dance. There is no need to think about that. I lived my life and she lived hers. Together, we now eternally dance. [POST-NOTES] I understand that the mid part of the story feels like filler, but I wasn't entirely sure what to put there. Hopefully, it doesn't bother you too much!