When Clyde Parker, the wayward son and the rotten-apple of the Parker family-tree, storms his way back into Avery Fields, he sets out a flurry of butterfly effect in Dawn Marshal's life.
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SHE WAS CERTAIN OF two things: i. Clyde Parker was a lunatic. ii. They were dying.
Gravity-according to Newton's law of motion, is a force that attracts any physical body possessing a mass towards the center of the earth.
However, time stopped as they fell and they hung midway in the horizon as if gravity ceased to exist in the first place. If this was time for Dawn Marshal, the interstate decathlon champion to defy Isaac Newton, it was certainly too late.
But then it happened too quick, their hold on the world released and they were falling again. Her heart escalated to her throat, almost on the verge of jumping out.
She tried to grasp into a branch on her way downhill but it slipped right off her sweaty palms and broke off. She screamed, flung her limbs scratching Clyde's pretty face. With her mind in a frenzy, the air stinging her eyes and her hair strewn all over the place, she felt like a headless chicken.
"Will you shut the fuck up!" Clyde shouted over the wind, peeved. She thought, if they weren't already dying, she would've strangled him with her bare arms that were lynched around his shoulders like a Koala hanging onto its branch.
"Hold tight!" She heard lastly of Clyde.
"I wasn't thinking of letting go," she buried her face in his chest. The ground was appearing closer; she could feel the weight of the air pushing her down.
Instinctively, she shut her eyes, all those memories flashing through her eyes, it was like flicking through an old photo album. All those memories, be it good or bad-she wasn't willing to let go of them just yet. "We are falling!" And as far as last words go, hers went terribly.
"No, we are flying!" He exclaimed. The wind hammered at them, the air resistance plucking them upwards and she could feel him smiling through his voice. Slowly with a beating heart, she opened her eyes. A bright yellow parachute floated overhead almost stealing a piece of the sky.
She glanced at him noticing the harness slinging by his shoulders. She felt stupid.
"Jerk! I could've had died of a heart attack" Her knuckles rested on his rock-hard abs making no visible impact, he didn't even flinch.
"Fiesty, aren't you?" he chuckled lowly and pulled her closer bridging the littlest of the distance between them.
His cold hands rested on the bare skin of her waist where the tank top had risen a little. She bit her lip, a reflex that made him suck in a breath. Her cheeks flared red. Was she embarrassed? Blushing because he had the same impact on her? He couldn't tell.
But perhaps things didn't always have to make sense, sometimes it was okay to let go of the anchor that had been holding him for so long and just live in the moment. Maybe all this all this while he had been asking the wrong questions and maybe he had found the answers he had been seeking in form of fiery brown eyes and a tantalizing mind.
