Wonderwall (3,850 words)

73 6 12
                                    

Genre: Romance

Summary:

A man named Connor searches for the woman he loves, hoping their special evening isn't ruined, and he reflects on why she is so important to him.

The ring felt like a weight in his pocket, pulling down his every step. Even though he could feel it hitting his hip with each turn he made, Connor's attention was elsewhere. He was looking through the crowd of the fair, but he couldn't see her anywhere. They were supposed to meet at the pier at the edge of the grounds. However, Emma hadn't shown. Figuring she had been caught in the jovial crowd, Connor had pushed through countless groups in search of her. He hadn't any luck, but his hopes still remained high.

As he pushed his way through a group of teenagers and a cloud of scented vapor, he caught sight of a couple. The woman's eyes crinkled at the edges, just like Emelina's, and the man had his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. In the process, the dark-complected man dropped his popping pink cotton candy on the ground, but he didn't seem to mind it all that much.

Connor's thin lips pulled back in a smile. Without realizing it, he stuck his hand into his coat pocket, and his gloved fingers wrapped around the rectangular box. He had wanted the night to be a surprise, even up to the point when he pulled out the box. The cliche of getting down on one knee and popping the question wasn't his style. It was too obvious, and he wanted to take Emelina's breath away.

He pulled his eyes away from the couple, searching once more for his beloved. For countless minutes, he searched the fairgrounds, which wasn't too large. After all, it was held on one block of pavement. Discouraged, Connor left the grounds, passing a father who held his daughter as they received tickets from the lady in the booth. The wind was stronger beyond the fair, the air colder, but Connor didn't mind. He had grown up somewhere with winds far colder. In fact, the cold air reminded of home, and it filled him with growing excitement. He was hoping that Emma would want to visit his homeland frequently.

Leaving the towering, fluorescent ferris wheel and the rest of the rides far behind, Connor entered the streets of the city. As he walked the sounds of carnival music faded, drowned out by the whistling of the wind. The lights were blinding on the streets. It seemed everywhere he looked, he got distracted by some store name spelled out in elaborate curling letters beaming in bright purples, blues, and reds. Some of the light shone green, others orange, but most were purple. Visitors often referred to the strip as the Purple Paradise, where bright colors and vibrant stars collided. Connor could never figure out why the stars were so bright here. It didn't make much sense, but somehow, all the lights only seemed to draw more attention to them.

He allowed himself to be lost in the constellations for what seemed like minutes. One of Emma's favorite things to do was stargaze, and she had yet to fail at impressing him. She could rattle off each name of every star in the sky without a doubt in her mind, and the way her face would brighten took Connor's breath away every time. Her charcoal eyes seemed darkest in those times, reflecting the stars, and providing their own twinkle. He couldn't explain the beauty of her eyes with his words. They were like a black hole, unexplored, mysterious, and all at the same time they were a force to be reckoned with as well as beautiful.

Someone bumped into his shoulder, muttering an apology as they walked by, and Connor remembered his search for Emma. He continued to walk. When he'd see no sign of her, he would look to the sidewalks beneath his combat boots. Every step he took antagonized him. She should have been at the pier, he should have been able to take her hand and dance with her to the carnival music there, and they should have been able to go on one single ride, the ferris wheel. Connor closed his eyes, thinking of the moment.

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