*roll of gunshots*

A few armed men surround the shore

pointing their guns at a young female

whose face was half covered with a

Bohemian scarf. The woman had her gun

aiming at them, when he appeared.

The sky roared with anger, thunder clasped in the further skies. The young captain and the female don looked into each other. The hollow space in their hearts felt complete. Their eyes shot questions at each other. It was clearly

evident they knew each other. 'Is it her? ls

it really her?' they whispered.

'She still wears her black kohl. And even

today her eyes, her look, makes my heart

skip a beat. How does she do this? How

does she--'

'He hasn't changed a bit. That same

perfume. That same watch. And that look.

How does he manage to captivate my

soul every time? How does he--'

Both reposition their guns and aims at

their target and* gunshots*.