Page 186 of Headstrong Like Us
Once I see him.
Him.He meansFarrow. We’ve been apart since this morning, seems more like an eternity, and it’s hard to even imagine looking into his eyes at this point. Honest to God, I feel like my joints are rusted. Like my body parts don’t work right. And I need him to help me feel light again.
I can almost hear him say,Relax, relax.
I breathe in.
The sky rumbles, and everyone looks up. Gray clouds amassing. “It might not rain,” Jane reassures, slipping back in line as an assistant sews Kinney’s dress.
I don’t think, I just say, “It’s alright if it does.”
Standing here, today, I feel and know that it’s perfect. It’d be imperfectly perfect under any doomsday. As long as he’s with me.
Music begins to play.
Guests fall quiet as an extended version of “Show Me Love” by Hundred Waters flows through the summer air.
I blow out the umpteenth breath.
The procession begins. Sulli leads and Kinney and Xander follow right behind. Jane gives me one quick smile before she’s off. And my dad hooks an arm through mine.
This is really it.
We walk forward, beyond the trellises, and I’m not looking straight ahead at the crystal-blue coast or at the ivy arch. I’m not looking at the lighthouse on the cliffside. I’m not even looking at the rows of standing guests, all dressed in casual white.
I turn my head to the right. Instinctively. Expectantly. I look across the wicker chairs to the other procession line.
And he’s already looking at me.
Farrow smiles thatknowingsmile, one that says,you can’t take your eyes off me, wolf scout.
I try looking forward, but no part of my stubborn soul wants to abandon his gaze.
I can’t.
He realizes, and his chest rises as he walks. Same exact pace as me. Our eyes crash together again, and I’m weightless.
Oxygen floods my lungs. I move freely, joints oiled. My gaze sears raw as the chorus to the song bleeds into the air.
And Farrow tries to glance forward.
He can’t either.
He’s drawn back by a magnetic pull, and he stares at me like I’m the only person on the cliffside. Longingly. With deep affection. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, his hair the same jet-black hue as the day I met him, and he has that cool, casual stride.
I’m smiling.
Christ, everyone is watching us. We’re only watching each other. Each step, I come closer and closer to reaching him.
My dad was joking about carrying me to the altar, but I’m almost a hundred percent relying on him to guide me there. Because I still can’t take my eyes off Farrow.
His teasing smile only stretches wider.
I never want to forget that smile. Not for as long as I live. Bury me in the ground with these memories. Send me to the underworld with his face engrained in my head. I’d be a happy man.
We reach the first row, and we round the seated guests.
Farrow is out of sight for a blink. Hidden behind the line of groomsmen and women, right before they stand on either side of the arch.
