• “I like this spot,” she said as she pulled wiggled from his arms and hugged him.
    Damian stood up, pulling her with him. Weaving his elegant hand through her dark hair, he spread lilies of the valley. They pulled back her hair to show her pale face and round blue eyes. He then took her arms and pulled them over his shoulders before placing his hands on her waist and helping her to stand and keep perfect balance.
    They danced through the cemetery, passing headstones left and right. Every now and then one of them looked down to make sure they did not dance over a grave, but their feet glided gracefully over the dying grass as Damian led. It was flawless and so natural; at no other time could Amy be so graceful.
    Winding their way down the little man made path, Damian picked up the tempo, and soon their shoes were hardly touching the ground as they moved back and forth and spun in quick sharp circles. At one point, Damian lifted Amy up, swirling her as she grasped his shoulders. Large blue eyes blinked at him, and then he broke out into a smile and her placed her on her feet, never losing the beat of their song.
    Coming by a little bridge, Damian stopped, still holding her close to his chest. She broke out into another smile, lighting up her crystal blue eyes. Under the bridge, a little stream ran over pebbles, creating a calming background noise that mingled with their rapid, heavy, breaths. No animals scattered by them or swooped over head; they were alone besides the dead, but Amy felt as if the were giving her and her beloved space to be truly alone.
    “I feel bad,” she whispered, “that I didn’t know what to get you. It seems so silly.” A lose strand of her cherry wood hair spilled into her face, a dark patch against the creamy moon light skin.
    Damian cupped her face in his calloused hands and kissed her forehead softly. “Don’t worry. All I need is you.”
    Smiling, she took his hand and pulled him all the way back to their little spot underneath the tree beside the statue and gravestone. Her feet came to a soft thudded stop before she sat down on the smooth blanket, once again surrounded by the glow of the candles. Amy sat, her legs crossed under each other as she looked up at Damian’s pallor.
    “You know,” she said looking up past long strands of hair and into Damian’s dark eyes, “he kind of reminds me of you.” Amy pointed a small finger to the statue, her eyes gliding over his scythe and hooded face.
    “Well you’ve never seen me in work clothes before,” he snickered. “Close you’re eyes.” Blinking, he met her blue eyes with a steady gaze.
    Amy raised a fine auburn eyebrow. “What, you carry your uniform around in your pocket?”
    “Magic, remember? It’s all about magic,” Damian said and placed his hands over her eyes, closing her world in darkness.