The beautiful thing about women is that their clothing and choice of outfits were like works of art. Every detail was always considered, even in the most free-spirited incarnation of peace and love. The prints, the textures, the drape of the fabric over curves in just the right way, falling across the hip, skimming the bust, implying the curve of the natural waist without clinging - the way certain necklines flattered and showed off their favorite jewelry, their exquisite collar bones... yes, Classic had watched the trends, watched women move and pine over their looks and their dresses, but there was nothing more beautiful than a dress that flowed as a woman moved, danced, whispered but did not scream about the graceful shape and curve beneath.
Watching Autumn move in that gossamer and printed dress brought a light to Classic's dark eyes and a smile to his lips. His slow and effortless crooked smile reflected her own serene one, as they moved with one another under the trance of Song, in a haze of what was a glimmer of how it once was.
The club they moved through and the space Classic spun his Autumn through, initially, had probably not exclusively played tunes from the 1960's and 1970's, or any songs since done by artists who thrived in those decades. But the moment Autumn and Classic had slid through the doorway, both tripping through the phantasmagorical delight acid offered, the music playing and blaring through the club had shifted.
No one would have noticed it, initially, the change in mood, or tone, or that the DJ seemed to lose control of what he music he spun. The songs that gripped the minds and hearts of those that danced and drank their night away took on a deep, unforgettable melody - that of Classic Rock, and everything he encompassed. It was as if every passing thought he or Hippie had was unleashed in song after song, so that dialogue between the two became irrelevant - all they needed to know, was what the Song told them.
He would move with her, against her, his hands tracing the shape of the sides of her body, his touch dancing across the small of her back, and, every now and then, he would lean in, and pass her a joint they mutually shared.