Barn Dancing

Her black hair swan around her shoulders and waist, she looked like she was dancing without moving. The sun swallowed her as it rose from behind the big barn-looking house. I say "barn-looking cause you could see the panels of wood that were used to build it and it was painted that really awful cliché red color that all barns are supposedly painted. I had to shut my eyes once the sun had risen more than halfway over the house. It killed me not to look at her.
"Dance with me Freddy. She said in that kind of whisper that's not really a whisper. I think actors call it a stage whisper, but she was no actress. If you had asked me before I would have said that all women were actors, not one was ever honest even with herself. But after I met Eve I believed, not only in genuine women but in honest people as well. My eyes were still closed when she grabbed my hand and pulled me up so that I was pressed against her. I couldn't tell if I was moving her or is she was moving me, but as fluid as water I found my arms around her and hers around me. We began to sway our bodies understood each other. We always seemed to understand the same thought at the right moment, almost as if we had existed somewhere else in time and now we were simply repeating all the things we had already done.
"What music are we dancing to?" I asked, half as a joke. There was no music but I hardly cared, any excuse to hold her was good enough for me.
"The heartbeat." She said, then she pressed her chest against mine and whispered, this time in a real whisper, "which is yours? Can you tell?"
I couldn't. It felt like a single heartbeat pounding between us.
"Tell me something." Her voice sounded like the ocean, hushed and soothing. She always made me feel so safe. I could only pray that I did the same for her. But it killed me that I could never think of anything to say, when she asked like that. At any given moment there were a million things I wanted to say to her but the second she asked me to speak I lost my voice. How can the same person who inspires you render you speechless at every turn?
"I'm going to kill you." I always find it fun to make a joke when one doesn't make sense. But her, she always seemed serious even when she wasn't.
"Ok" she replied, "just remembers to kill yourself after. I don't even want to not live without you."
"I love you." I didn't need to say it, and those words that once held so much weight that I was afraid to say them out loud now felt to small, completely falling short of everything I want to say. But it was true, it was always true. I kissed her then and took a deep breath. I wanted to keep her, some part of her, any part of her, forever. I wanted to inhale some of her so that I could carry her around with me always, no matter what happened tomorrow or six years from now I would always have that piece. But nothing in life works like that.
"I will keep you." She said. How did she do that? She could always do that. She would just say what I was thinking right when I was thinking it just when I had given up hope of being able to articulate it justifiably.
"How?" I asked, I really didn't want an answer. I knew that if she gave an answer I would begin to pick it apart using logic that had no place in this moment.
"I just will." I didn't know what she meant; I couldn't explain it to you. But I felt it like faith. And in that moment I decided to keep her to. I just will.