End of Smiles

-He remembers her eyes, as if they were windows to her soul, more than that, as if they were her soul. Who’s to say that the soul lingers in the heart, in between pulsations, is it not more fitting to believe that it remains in the eyes, where it cannot be seen but can be felt. He felt her soul that night, and perhaps, that is why all he remembers now, are her eyes. It was there, amidst the flood of tears. And to see her cry was like watching his own tears fall, a reflection.
She wrote letters to him. Even now, he has a stack, held together with a worn rubber band; her letters. A little piece of her, in each jumble of words and encouraged smiles. She smiled once too. He remembers. The dimples would burrow in her cheeks and her invisible soul would glisten in her eyes. There were many smiles then. It was one of her hobbies, smiling. She once told him as much, as they sat across from each other, both smiling at the leisure of the day, they were both still in school then.
It was then, when she smiled, that they danced together for the first time, and several times after that, for the last. It was different for him, dancing with her. It was a dance he had never known the steps to, one that existed only in the world between their eyes. Rhythm didn’t exist in those moments, it wasn’t a consideration, and movement was simply the result of their souls reaching for each other. From one end of the dance floor to the other, they continually attempted this embrace.
It was after all the dancing and all the smiles; he knew her. As they sat in the darkness of night, he could see the glistening of her eyes disappear, the tears forming and falling, the quivering of her lip. She spoke to him, as if speaking to herself. The stars had fallen from the sky since he had last seen her smile and their last dance had ended with the fall of the first. And though she never said it, he could see it in her eyes; this would be the last time they’d be together, and there could be no smiles.