xxxiii.i

During the halftime intermission in yesterday's Steelers/Ravens game, I went down to my dorm's dining hall to eat some food and ruminate on my team's generous lead. After selecting some grub, I picked out a table by a window, which I stared out of as I ate, alone.
As I ate, I gradually became aware of the conversation of the people at the next table over. I don't think I could have made most of their words out if I had tried, which I didn't, but as I sat and munched my baked shrimp, I caught occasional snippets from their conversation--about friends, weather, religion. On the last topic the conversation stayed for some time, and my curiosity ate at me, so, reaching for my milk, I chanced a casual glance up at the source of the idle chatter.
Two people sat at the table there, one young man and one young lady, not too much older than myself, but radiating a quiet wisdom as they sat, bathed in the light from the midday sun streaming through the window. Each rested an elbow on the table, a hand on the chin, a warm smile on the face. As two elbows sat side by side there, two trays of uneaten food sat side by side as well, her long black hair falling by one, and a pair of winter coats by the other.
The two young lovers sat at this small table in the great dining center of Connor Hall as if frozen in time, eyes locked, words issuing forth from their lips with the gentlest of breath, as though the slightest force might undo the spell woven betwixt them. But for them, no such force existed, and as I rose to dispose of my tray, I looked back at the twain once more and realized that in their eyes was beauty unlike any I have ever seen, a fragile, yet adamantine beauty that issued forth from within--their hearts and souls, and something more beside, laid bare for all to marvel at.
I deposited my tray and left the hall in silence.