Love patterns

“I wish she would soon come,” said the elf while he impatiently tore grass up from the forest floor. They had agreed to meet near the smallest lake in the largest forest while the sun was highest in the sky, and he had arrived at least an hour too early.

For him she was Alpha and Omega. He smiled dreamily at the thought of her long, curved eyelashes which blinked so exquisitely seductive that it almost seemed deliberate. It didn’t matter she was acting coy in this way, rather the contrary.

She was adorable and so endearing that he found it difficult to sit still when they were together. He watched her incessantly, alternating from all possible sides, and his mind was completely focused on her. He had to roam her “by chance” and feel her delicate scent again, again and again. There was no end to it.

They used to dance cheering up and down and back and forth on sunbeams. Today there was not a breath of wind, the sky was almost blue, as there were many spots where the last clouds were evaporating. It would be a waste of time not to enjoy such a beautiful day when the sun’s rays were reflected in the leaves, and shimmering and glittering in their shiny wings, so one could almost come to think of lit sparklers.

A young couple who took a walk in the woods, for the air’s, the digestive and the dog’s fault, as they put it, caught sight of them, and the girl exclaimed:

“Nah, look at these beautiful dragonflies. How they sparkles. It looks like they weave love patterns in the air.