Roger and Liz

Two lovable con-artists, Roger and Liz, adventuring American high society together in the early 1920's.  Seen at the races, the clubs and courses, they enamored all of their friends and stole from each of them- their money, their trust and in return gave to them the taste of love and adventure that these two chemically radiated whenever they were together.

 "Oh Roger," Liz exclaims, her hands placed palm-flat against the silk of his wide lapeled vest.  He looks at her with interest, the hint of money slipping from beneath her bra to frame her lovely figure in greens and whites.  She'd stuffed the dollars she'd shifted from Sarah's red and pearl embroidered purse (all of it!) against her chest, next to her heart, and his hand were upon the small of her back, guiding her closer to press tightly against him.  Their hearts were racing from the thrill of the game, the thrill of being caught up in this chicanery together, every risky moment bonding them even more.

He loved her more than he had loved anything else, and that is why he always kept a bit of a layer between them sexually.

They flirted heavily with each other and he eased his hands over her body, smoothly caressed her hair, her cheeks, but could not get a rise when she nuzzled her face against his pant-clad lap.

She wondered if he loved money more than he loved her, or the sense of adventure they had together - but that was not the case.  He loved her much more than he dare admit, for to admit it would give her compete mastery over him. 

Sweet and beautiful and charming as she was, he did not know if he could afford to lose himself with her - to lose himself would be to lose everything, for he was all he ever had.  Everything else came and went on a dime - money, clothes, people, places...

But he could not dare himself the risk of losing himself to her, no matter how deep were the pools of promise in her eyes and the sweet sincerity of her heart - he knew she was his.  He knew it with every fiber of his being.  But did he trust himself enough to keep her?

Keep her from every harm, every pain, every dirty, rotten thing he'd encountered on this ferris wheel ride?  It made his head spin to think of the responsibility his heart would be burdened with if he allowed her to come into it.

So, instead, she was his dance partner, and they danced many times together, in and out of different scenes, different cities, charming the lot of them in each scenario because they could, because everyone could feel the chemistry between them and were enamored by it.

They always attracted attention when they were together.  It was a heady trap they'd set, and they themselves were the chief rats caught in the middle of their own dynamic drama.  They chased and eluded each other as much as they chased and eluded their patsy friends.  They loved to play the game.

Until one day, when she asked to change the rules, until she asked him to give more than he was willing to give.

And he left... left her to find her own way because he knew she needed to be loved, and he did not know if he wanted to be responsible for that.

Neither were able to find satisfaction in their separation.  Both of them had broken hearts.

Maybe they would find each other again in another time, another life - and try once more to make it work.  Maybe, one day, they'd play the game to win.