Iridescent

Four

"You'll meet her, she's very pretty, even though sometimes she's sad for many days at a time. You'll see, when she smiles, you'll love her."

- Pan's Labyrinth

 Lincoln Bach was buzzing.

He couldn't wipe the smile off of his face that made itself at home permanently atop his lips, and he hid his face into his shoulder, smothering himself in the beige leather fabric every time her small smile drifted into his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling from the fact that she was on the very same subway as he was in, and that she was literally a carriage away.

Lincoln suddenly wished that he had gotten into the same carriage as she had, rather that gawk her from across the platform. He had the chance to walk over and stand by her side, maybe even find out her name, yet he didn't and Lincoln was very, very frustrated with himself. 

He had no idea if he would get to see her again; the thought of her getting off at a different stop than he would made him anxious beyond belief, and was very likely above all else. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as the buzzing high from seeing her again slowly but surely began to wear off. 

Lincoln wasn't exactly sure where he was headed. He had no idea as to what stop he was meant to get off on, nor was he sure as to why he found himself walking towards the subway station at such an early hour in the morning.

He hadn't slept a wink that night, and he rubbed at his eyes as a wave of drowsiness washed over him. He sighed.

The subway lurched to a stop as the intercom blared, notifying passengers of the first stop. The doors shuddered open and people began to file out, and Lincoln grew anxious, wondering what stop she would be getting off at and if the first stop was the one.

Out of a purely instantaneous blink of a moment, Lincoln darted from his spot on the subway train, amid twenty to thirty and some odd number of people, and for the exit doors. He brushed past the metal doors as they slid close, and he found himself on the main platform of the subway station of the next city over.

Lincoln breathed out, watching his breath fold into silvery wisps of air before the disappeared into the shadows of the underground tunnel. He glanced around, looking for any sign of the girl but finding none whatsoever. 

Barely anyone had gotten off at that first stop, and Lincoln sighed, beginning his journey to the next station over in hopes of seeing her again. With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his beige jacket, he displayed small smiles to random strangers awaiting for the next train, and he mentally excited himself as he began to prepare himself to have a conversation with the endearing stranger who he had yet to properly speak to.

He recalled her bright smile she had given him in return for his, and he couldn't help but erupt with a tingling sensation of warmth as the thought dawned on him that he had made her smile that way. He wondered what she thought of him and what she reasoned for their second meeting to be.

Too preoccupied with his thoughts, Lincoln realized moments later that he had arrived at the second station. The walls of the station were filled with an array of colors from different brushes of graffiti, and his eyes immediately began to wander around as his ears filled with the groaning hum of the wind that whistled in and out of the dark tunnel.

Lincoln pursed his lips, gathering that it was completely empty. Without stopping, he ventured onwards and allowed himself to drift back into the company of his conscious.

I wonder what her favorite color is, he thought to himself. Blue? Green? Black? Or, what's her favorite food? Favorite snack to mindlessly snack on? Favorite meal in case I ever get to take her out for dinner. Favorite dessert, favorite drink, favorite end to the night?