Chasing Daylight

Skai April 22, 2014

 Pic of Skai

“Imaginations are a gift, a way of figuring out life in a way nobody understands.” –– Skailar

Chapter 1

   I NEVER WANTED TO GET MARRIED. Or at least when I was still so young. It made me feel old. Too old to take action.

   I am ninety nine point nine percent sure I’m dreaming. Three reasons I’m so sure were because one; I’m walking down the aisle of my supposedly wedding with my father by my side. Stefan Ventierros. The father who had abandoned his family thirteen years ago. Who never wrote, called or showed his face to us personally in any way.

   Second; because I’m only seventeen, proving my point to young marriage that makes me cringe.

   And third; the man I’m about to marry is a complete stranger…someone who I can’t recognize for my life. But I’m certain of one thing. He is the most utterly beautiful man to ever exist. Surely. He’s too beautiful to not be a dream. He’s thin and lanky but amazingly muscular. His tousled hair is brilliant natural golden shades with honey-bronze streaks. His skin, impossibly porcelain and fair colored. His lips; perfectly full for his slim jaw line. And his eyes…the most startlingly stunning shade of emerald green I have ever seen. They’re smolderingly heart-stopping. I can’t seem to function one hundred percent right when I look at him. He is utterly, impossibly and most illegally fit to perfection in ways too excruciatingly difficult to explain or ever get used to.

  It’s almost mean…almost disrespectful to be so mesmerizingly gorgeous. He almost blinds me.

   My feet force me forward. My eyes glance to the right…to the left. I see family…friends. Their warm smiles and their eyes on me. Then a forth reason hits me nice and hard. Everyone is wearing white. Stefan, the priest, my family, friends and the godly to-be husband—who was gazing wondrously at me—is all in blinding white.

   My heart races as I reach my place under the arch of white roses. My father kisses my cheek then stands to the side. The man warmly takes my hand in his…not so warmly. His skin is pretty cold.

   “Ladies and gentlemen. We have gathered here today to witness the reunion of Skailar Ventierros and Felix Sanestarro. Groom, please repeat after me. I, Felix Sanestarro,”

   “I, Felix Sanestarro,” his voice comes out of nowhere. It’s like he’s singing. His wind chimed voice is…phenomenal. Silken.

   “Take you, Skailar Ventierros…”

   “Take you, Skailar Ventierros,” he repeats solemnly.

   “To have…and to hold,” this man’s voice is deep and rough. Gravel compared to…Felix Sanestarro? He repeats the solemn words fluently. No one is talking now so the words flow fluently out of my mouth.

   “For better or for worse,”

   “For richer or for poorer…”

   “In sickness and in health…”

   He smiles as his liquid emerald eyes hold my gaze. “To love,”

   “To cherish,” my voice nearly comes out a whisper. “Till death do us apart…”

   “Or…as long as we both shall live,” he murmurs. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the priest smile.

   “You may now seal with a righteous kiss.” he says, his voice softening.  

  The arch that my soon-to-be husband slash total stranger stands under is wrapped in snow-white roses, the same kind my father had given my mother when he asked her to marry him (or so I hear). The dress I’m wearing is made of the finest silk I have ever felt. It’s a traditional white, leaving my back open. In my right hand between my shaking fingers, I hold a bouquet of white roses that, with the sun out, the thunder storm leaving and the rain still pouring, they shine like a thousand imbedded diamonds.

  “I do,” he says. There is not a crease in this man’s marble skin.

  “I do,” I repeat. Then we both lean in closer…and closer…and closer…