floating | ✓

23| hug

“If you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.”

- Blue-eyed devil

23| hug

“Let’s ride on the ferris wheel.” I tug on Oliver’s wrist. Oliver says nothing in reply. We start towards the ferris wheel, and I swing our joined hands as we walk.

Oliver slows down as we get closer to the ride. I have to drag him. “What’s your problem? It’s a ferris wheel, come on!”

“That’s exactly the problem,” I hear him mumble underneath his breath.

I roll my eyes at him.

“I remember the first time we came to the carnival. I was really little, maybe four or five. We were about to ride on the ferris wheel, and Sam was trying to scare the heck out of me,” I say.

“I was shaking when Dad was trying to get me in the seat. I refused and cried,” I say. “I got into the seat, with my eyes closed, my heart on my throat, and hiding my face in my dad’s chest. Sam was smirking.”

“That sounds like something my brother would do,” Oliver mumbles in a low voice.

“As the wheel went up, I peered outside, and I was not really scared anymore. I really liked watching the sunset, being in the sky. Ever since, the ferris wheel has been my favourite.”

I glance back at Oliver and find him gazing at my face. He slowly looks away.

“Come on,” I say and wrap my fingers around his. Silently, Oliver follows me.

As we show our tickets, a cart stops in front of us.  I open the cart door and pull Oliver in with me.

Oliver takes the seat opposite of mine. I offer him a smile. He looks at me like he’s accusing me of murder.

Why do I like this guy?

Soon the wheel starts to move. The cart gradually goes up. My heart flutters a bit as I see the ground beneath us.

Oliver is sitting there looking down at his feet like he is anticipating something terrible to happen.

“Why are you looking down? Look out,” I say. I lean back in my seat and feel the gentle brush of the wind on my skin.

Oliver doesn’t look comfortable. His face is hard and his hands are tight in fists. I raise one of my eyebrows. Oliver looks up at me.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, leaning forward and our cart rocks a little.

Oliver’s eyes go wide, “Can I sit with you?” Before I can reply to him, he almost jumps from his seat to mine.

“Okay, I guess,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

Oliver takes a deep breath in and says, “Nothing.”

“Okay. I believe you,” I say and shake my head.

I look outside and realize we are almost two stories high. I feel Oliver squeeze my knee.

I turn to him and see his eyes are closed. “Oliver?”

“Is it over?” he asks, opening one eye a little bit.

As I realize what’s wrong, I burst out laughing. “You are afraid of heights!”