Installed in the screening room, Tristan and I sat stiffly, awaiting for the projection to start. And when the light switched off, his hand immediately found mine. Digging under the layers of my skirt, we hid our love to the world while we watched our movie. I realised, then, how different it was from a spectator's perspective. The emotions were so incredibly dependant on the cuts and montage. The music, too, created a whole different mood. Director's choices that could imprint the story just as much as our acting.
Witnessing my own death in Tristan's arms was an eye opener. I knew him to be brilliant at expression silent emotions, but now that I knew this scene had triggered the realisation of his affection for me, I could see it in the tense lines of his face. His frantic movements, the
