Rome stepped out of the shadows once he was certain they were alone. There she was, standing by the fountain, her gown flowing around her, the moonlight casting a silver hue around her dark hair and making her skin glow in a soft light. She had spoken as if she were ordinary, perhaps even ugly, but even with the mask on her face, he could tell that Ella was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
They’d spoken to each other several times over the phone; he almost felt as if he knew her. Yet, as he approached, the ordinary words that would’ve normally flowed from his mouth, a flirtatious quib or light banter, escaped him. How could he possibly converse with Ella in the same fashion he would an ordinary girl at a bar? She was an angel, while they were nothing but mere mortals who couldn’t
