Shrew. That's what suited her most perfectly...as if the word was custom made for her. She felt she had the right to be loved by all. And what's wrong with that?
"Nothing," he would say as he looked at her with his two fingers covering a coy smile on his face. He gazed at the full bright moon reigning in the black sky above. He looked back at her fidgeting with her black dress. Her authoritative face was not even an ounce less of the sparkle he saw in the moon above... "The shrew cannot be blamed for her pretension," he heard telling himself and immediately commanded himself to look away.
He dragged his gaze to the moon dancing below on the waves of river that ran under the bridge they were standing on..."And what's wrong with that?" The coquettish question echoed in his mind. It had a strange mix the smell of a lot of arrogance and a pinch of the need to be admired and loved. Was she really the authoritative moon she appeared to be or was she actually the agile she seldom appeared to be? He couldn't decide.