A Love Forbidden by History

In the midst of the 19th century, there lay an island, rich in cultural heritage, bathing in a soft amber glow. While the air shimmered with sparks of hope, it also helplessly carried the aroma of suppression mixed with hints of rebellion. Amongst the constant havoc, a feeling arose, and it held a sublimity so immense, it enforced two individuals to submit and possess devotion to each other, despite their conditions. A fragile romance began to take root. It bloomed in defiance of oppression, and inevitably, it stole my breath away.

What I'm about to tell you is something that visits me every night, a repeated vision that occupies every fiber in my body and has robbed countless hours of my slumber. I have lived it over and over again and return to it without my permission. When my eyes close, they surrender to the darkness, and gently, the breeze starts to linger against my face, stirring the loose curls that have escaped to frame my rosy cheeks, like I have traveled back in time.

As I stare hopelessly at liquid gold pouring at the end of the sea, a longing lingers, laying heavy on my chest, like a part of my soul has been left with a foreigner. I'm sure this does not belong to me, yet the bittersweet ache is born every day, only deeply for him.

He, whose face I cannot recall.
He whose features blur and dissolve into the background as I look up at him, like he was never there.

The melancholy sets in.

Despite my failed attempts, I refuse to give up, and tonight, I willingly ask to be sent back.

My desire to be returned was granted, and I emerged back into the embrace of the forgotten era. The delicate chimes of the bangles surrounded me and gave birth to a heavenly melody that my ears longed to listen to.

And amongst that revealed a girl who glowed like a celestial being. She sat there with ethereal beauty only goddesses had the right to possess. It seemed like the angels themselves descended to carve her face into perfection. She effortlessly claimed hearts that would stop working at a slight glimpse of her face.

Just like always, her warm porcelain skin was draped in violet silk that hugged her curves gracefully, kissed by the glowing gold embroidery. She knelt, devoting herself to the art she was creating on the floors of the holy temple, while her fingers tightly curled around coloured powders and thoughtfully filled patterns which belonged at the sacred gates of heaven.

Immersed in the delicate symphony of the colors, she had no reason to look up; however, a divine intervention from something unknown forced her gaze upon someone.

A man.

A man that would never be hers.

A man society would never allow with her.

Though she didn't even glance at his face, his tailored uniform presented authority and power before he even had the chance to utter any words. His posture asserted dominance.

Dominance his people had over hers.
Dominance he would have over her.

She lowered her stare, defeated, and her eyes gently fell away from him, returning to the artistry beneath her hands. She would not allow them to memorize what her heart had no right to desire.

Yet, his gaze lingered and wrapped around her, refusing to let go. An invisible pull she could not physically escape, so she made a decision. She promised herself only a glimpse of him, enough to satisfy the growing thirst.

But her eyes would turn out to betray her completely.

As her kajal-rimmed obsidian eyes unwillingly lifted up, she caught sight of the most hypnotic pair of hazel eyes that had ever met hers. Filled with pools of melted honey and the warmth of autumn sunlight, when the sun hit them, a rare harmony of amber and earth bred. They pierced right through the walls around her soul and touched it with the affection and comfort no one had been capable of reaching. It spoke the most romantic language without uttering a single word. For a moment, they both remained like that, taking in the euphoric bliss that was rushing through their veins, while even the universe itself had stopped to take in the purity of the feeling that was about to blossom.

Though the distance between both of them remained untouched, it seemed as if their souls had already made love, promising to intertwine for eternity and remain untouched by the prejudice society presents to them in each lifetime. Neither of them knew how long they'd been enslaved by the gravity of each other's presence.

Maybe a minute.
Maybe a second.
Maybe an entire lifetime.

They had no idea, and maybe they didn't want to, because the euphoric connection they were trapped in made them want to lose themselves in each other. That perplexed them beyond words. Why did they feel like they belonged to each other when they hadn't even shared more than a minute together? Why did her silence feel more intimate than the touch of a woman he had spent a whole night with?

Why did their hearts sync to the same rhythm simultaneously?
Why had it ignited a passion so intense?
Why?

A sharp voice called out, and I abruptly woke up. The same dream, vision, whatever this was, visited me again, and this time, I stepped further. I witnessed that riveting stare, and now it was miserably ingrained somewhere in the depths of my heart.

I will always carry the echo of when they spoke to me until, inevitably, I come across them again.