Language for Love.

Words were so him. Lachie headed off to the Grand Annual Football Presentation event, taking his place as the hard-bitten journalist, to report on all the latest trophies. His photographer was at his side, these two were the hottest items in seeking any gossip at all about mere humans. It was that time of the season, football players in the finals walked as kings in their town, always needing some glamorous young babe in a fabulous frock at their side.

The hype was developing, as Lachie joined the brilliant flashes of cameras and television interviewers. He wrote for the most popular newspaper in the city, it paid his bills, while he dreamed of greater literacy ambitions. He worked online at home a lot these days, interspersing his writing endeavors with his novel, hoping for that lucky opportunity with a publisher.

The favorite rising star for the football trophy for Best and Fairest was a likely young man named Jordan. Lachie had interviewed him before, and found him to be totally self-absorbed, giving no thought for his football days ahead. Lachie tried to imagine Jordan at the age of fifty, possibly with knee injuries, maybe with the after-effects of all those heavy head knocks. He glanced at the stunning blonde on Jordan's arm, wow! She was tall too, beautiful and well-endowed, naturally. Alexis was the latest model for swimwear in the fashion industry.

Lachie wondered how long she would tolerate Jordan and his party animal japes, which the media were always relating on the front page. The handsome footballer was always seen at the latest trend in designer dance spots, doing some very suggestive motions. Or was he hamming it up for the photographers?

"Easy come, easy go!" Jordan told Lachie as he strutted into the venue, so full of his own opinions of what was only a game in the span of the entire world stage. Lachie had a bit of inside information. As well as his photographer, he had also engaged a couple of cadets, to follow Jordan and Alexis. Lachie sat and observed this celebration of football finals frenzy. He had a job to monitor Jordan, as well as get the scoop that would bring him fame and credits with his editors.

But Lachie could not take his charmed eyes away from gazing covertly at Alexis. He had read about the romantic thunderbolt, striking reasonable, rational males with a desire that was older than time and any artifice. Did their eyes meet across that rather boring evening?

It did not seem really strange to describe that Lachie's brief smile from Alexis had somehow bewitched him. She seemed genuinely kind, but overwhelming for a man that age. She was only nineteen, while Lachie was past 35. He could only admire her from afar, and Jordan, both considered such stars in that very small pond of a glittering evening. Jordan did make quite a production, heading off to the powder room with some footballers , behaving like juvenile toddlers. Lachie nodded to his cadets, still entranced by Alexis, hoping he could introduce himself. He was also not quite sure if she was one of those lively chicks who also regularly went to powder room, with a suspicious plastic bag of white substance. Rumors swirled around the media representatives.

Alexis seemed to sit by herself, as Jordan was playing the field, showing off in front of all those young fillies. The cadets were waiting at the end of that long evening. Evidence about cocaine use had been collected. Fortunately, Alexis was all clear. Lachie went home, still more than attracted. He wrote his copy through the night, in words suitable for his market. He was known for his apt language.

By morning, Lachie was asleep, where his dreams centered around a tall girl in his arm, much fire of kissing and heavy breathing. When he awoke, he decided to take affirmative action. He would offer Alexis an article about her rise to become a potential supermodel. Any excuse, so he fired off an email to the modelling agency, with his profile.

Lachie's article about this latest scandal concerning drugs in football hit the front page of online news, the television news and any newsprint still circulating. The editors refused to back down, as Jordan was suspended for the vital final series, and sent to a luxury drug rehab. It even had its own swimming pool. Lachie had become an overnight nationally renowned writer. He was the face of anti-drugs in sport.

The football league was more than red-faced, the ax that swung at clubs took many a coach and player down a new path. Drug tests had been fudged, the parents of such susceptible young men had to accept their sons had drug habits. Lachie started writing his new book, a profile of this sordid episode on their stage of muddy dreams.

Then, a ping on his email system. It was Alexis, replying to him personally. She had agreed that Lachie could profile her, even complimenting him on his stance against drugs. That week, Lachie and Alexis were doing lunch. She was such a lovely person, her golden smiles filled his days with happiness.

Lachie wondered quietly if soon his nights would also hold bliss and afterglow. He asked Alexis to have dinner one evening, and was stunned when she said yes. He wrote a poem for her, in his unique style, wanting her to find his true language for love. But, while this couple were finishing their main courses, Jordan walked in with some mates of his.

Jordan may have been to drug rehab, but his manners had not improved. He jostled Lachie as he walked by, and said some really rude things about Alexis. Lachie's fists curled, he knew he was being provoked, manipulated by this so-called star. He was struggling with his darker instincts, to engage in a brawl with this loudmouth thug.

But he had nothing to worry about, ultimately. Alexis rose to her feet, tipped her drink over Jordan, and smacked him in face. She glared, saying, "You keep your opinions to yourself. You're nothing but an infantile coward! Say that again, and I'll kick you in your lack of balls, I have a black belt in karate!!!" Jordan shrank away, his pals telling him to pull his head in.

Lachie was more in love than ever before. He has his personal, impressive defender, capable chick. Alexis told him, "This joint has too much garbage. Let's go home to my place."

As the reader has learnt, Alexis was not only stunning, she was also a determined lady. Lachie's imagination and dreams never measured up to reality. After the bliss bombing, he read Alexis his ode.

'"There is a reason for everything,

Let me give you a golden ring,

This desire is gold,

Love never grows cold,

You're part of my heart,

Let's not be apart,

Blazing this fire,

Let's never tire....

Magic lives here,

Let's love, beloved dear."

Lachie never had to worry about Alexis. Their May/Winter love spoke truly beautiful languages for all their days, adding to the world of love and literature. She was his pillar of strength, as they never seemed to tire of their eternal flame, in their own language of true love. Bliss!