The Sunglasses

I pluck the sunglasses from around his rarely seen green eyes and pop them over my blue ones, the world instantly darkening.

‘No wonder you’re always so down. You never see the sun.’

He makes an attempt to snatch them back, but instead grabs my arm and pulls me towards him before I have time to run to the other side of the garden. He slides his hand down to my wrist and I twirl out, then in once more, interlocking my fingers with his free hand so we’re almost in ballroom positions. His grip starts to loosen so I twist my arm up and around his neck, catching curly locks of the deepest shade of brown beneath my nails. We waltz around the flower beds, the only dance we remember from the movies, when he guides me into a second spin and stops me before I finish the circle. He is holding me at my waist, gently running his right hand up the length of my body. My breath catches in my throat and I start to let my eyes close when I feel his fingers curling against the rim of the glasses, and before I know it, the garden lights up once more, each colour heightened, a direct contrast from the dull world seen through darkened lenses.

I finish the twirl. ‘Hey-‘

But he is kissing me.

And the world lights up even brighter.