It felt like looking at yourself from someone else’s eyes. You laughed but it felt more like you were listening to yourself laugh. Your eyes widened and sometimes you winced, watching how the forged blades cut through – or not cut through – the rope and the pig carcass. You were judging yourself, ruminating if your person was suitable for him. You know, of course, that he loves iron and fire, and you guess that in his previous life, he could have been a blacksmith. You love listening to him talk about the sword you won, its tang and its make, its carbon content and its gleam.
You genuinely enjoyed the show about forging weapons, and quite possibly, both of you were actually made for each other too.
(writing practice inspired by unphotographable.com)