His hands trembled, faltered, was unable to hold on. He closed his eyes, willing his heart to return to his chest, wishing that he could return to that one moment…

She was gorgeous and pure; the way the pearly white dress hugged every curve of her body, accentuating every goddess-like quality she possessed. And the way she felt against him, secured tightly against his chest, his hand placed on the small of her back, her favorite spot…

It was only the pair of them, dancing on shiny marble floors fit for Kings, embraced in the closest hold they could possibly muster.

“I love you,” whispered a ghost from behind his ear.

He shivered, letting a lone tear escape and fall down his ice cold cheek.

He let the crumpled dark photograph fall from his fingers, and watched as it fluttered to the floor.

What he would give to return to that one moment, one last time…