Eye Contact: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.
The breeze was picking up in the rose scented courtyard as the storm slowly rolled in. Other than rustling leaves and thunder rattling in the distance the only sounds that could be heard were two pairs of feet, both walking slowly and cautiously, both unaware of the other. The light filtering down through the ancient oak trees made a speckled pattern on the deep red dress dancing across the legs that belonged to one of the two strangers. Her heels, just barely louder than silence, navigated the cobble stones one by one, as her mind focused on the only thing that mattered: her target. Though she knew little about him, she did know he would be standing just inside the balcony doors of the second floor. He would be wearing a black suit and a black top hat adorned with a single red feather. The red feather that had been haunting her dreams for weeks. Though she couldn't say what about the image stuck with her so and caused such a feeling of anxiety, she knew that as usual, she would get the job done, regardless of the meaningless reservations she was having of late. She hadn't backed down from a job yet and she certainly wasn't going to start now.
On the other end of the courtyard, completely unaware of the silk clad killer making her way to the exact spot in which he was headed, the second of the two strangers moved with just as much grace and perhaps a bit more ease, moving closer and closer to his target. Though he knew little about his mark, he did know the window in which she would be standing and the vision she would make in a red dress, deep as wine, with hair as black as night. He rarely took jobs placed on women however, he was told this one was a special case; a siren that left nothing but devastation in her wake. He ignored the uneasiness in the pit of his gut and wiped the sweat from his brow. Jobs never made him sweat, he was trained, emotionless and cold blooded, always calculating. Why now was his body betraying him?
The first rain drop landed swiftly on the petal of a blood red rose, and a shaft of light streaked down from the heavens, parting the skies in two and illuminating the twilight hours as though it were much earlier in the day than it was. The two assassins breathed heavily as they moved closer and closer to their mark. From their positions both could see the open window, white curtains billowing out through the empty chasm. Empty? No man in a feathered top hat? No woman in a silk red dress? Quicker and quicker they moved, almost there, a few steps now. Two guns raised, four hands shaking. Just three steps. One step now. He cleared the last rose bush, as she stepped into view and then there they were, two marks set as one. It took only a heartbeat to recognize their mark.
Why was he here? Why was she here?
Her bright blues met his bright greens and an eternity passed in the blink of their eyes. What could have happened had they met on the street, at a different time and in a different place? Would he have stopped to ask her name, would she have given him her real one? It didn't matter now. There was little hesitation and no turning back as two shots were fired, disrupting the storm. And in that one vast courtyard, on an ordinary evening, one life would end and one would be forever changed. The shadow of the living assassin left quickly in the direction from which they had come. And the only sign that anything out of the ordinary had occurred was the single cool, traitorous tear that was wiped quickly away with the brush of a hand.
Photo by Dif89