ONE

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

When I first see him, it’s as if time stands still. The seconds no longer tick by, and the world falls into oblivion. The crowds surrounding me fade away into nothing, and all I can see is him. All I can focus on is him.

His crystal-blue eyes are the windows to his soul, displaying raw emotion so openly that I forget to breathe. The unmarred truth in a single glance shatters all my delusions. I can feel a connection deep inside me, and it shocks me to the core. My throat aches as if I’m about to cry, and my heart feels as if it is expanding in my chest, filling it with a hope that I’ve never felt before.

For an instant in time, we are completely connected. We are finally aware that this world we live in is a façade, a fantasy. The feeling he instills in me is the only real thing I’ve ever felt. Reality only exists for us in this moment. Everything else in my life is just a ridiculous dream or nightmare.

It’s as if I’ve been walking around with my eyes closed for a lifetime. Then I opened them, and the only thing I can see that is real is him.

The screams and cries around me fade away as people push and shove into me, a brush of a feather compared to the impact of the look he is giving me. I suppose my eyes are saying the same thing to him, or maybe I just look like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

For the first time in my life, I don’t care what I look like. I’m not Sarah Clark, the office temp with curly brown hair anymore. I’m not the Sarah Clark who has Celtic-green eyes that seem to attract the worst in people. I’m not the Sarah Clark who is late for Pilates at the central YMCA and whose boobs are too small or who doesn’t have a big enough ass. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel beautiful and connected to something greater than just my body parts.

I need to reach him. I know if we can just meet, if we weren’t separated by a sea of people, we would discover the thing that most people would die for. The kind of love that people give their life for…

I know it’s crazy. I don’t even know who he is. But that look—God, I could write a thousand sonnets over that look. There’s a natural sadness in his eyes as if he’s lost something precious, and he’s still searching for it. But when he sees me, those eyes could light up a universe of darkness with bright hope. Is that why I’m blindly drawn to him in this way?

I’m not bright or loud. People rarely notice me. I meld into the scenery or the shadows more often than I’m ever seen. But he sees me now, and it feels as if I’ve been reborn.

I see his lips part in surprise as if he’s realizing the same things I am, at the same time. I want to kiss those lips, just once before I die.

My own lips are already parted in surprise. I’m probably gawping at him right now, but I can’t help it. It’s a shock to find him, to know all of these things in an instant without even saying a word.

In a split-second, my entire outlook on life has changed. The impact of just being near him is a shock to me. It’s shaken me to the core, and now nothing in my life seems real anymore. The idea of never meeting him causes a physical pain in my chest. Am I going crazy?

Behind me, someone grabs my arm and pulls me back. I still can’t look away from him. Maybe I am crazy, but I just want this moment to last forever. It’s special, real. It isn’t mundane or fake. It’s pure and true. God, I just want to feel like this for the rest of my life. Please don’t let my entire existence have been bland and false. Give me just this one moment in a perfect reality. Give me one moment with him, and I’ll experience euphoria for a lifetime…

As I’m dragged back, away from the barriers by strong hands, I see him frown. His lips tighten into a line as he stands up as if he is coming to get me. My heart leaps in my chest. I want him to come for me, to take me away from all this bullshit. I want him to save me. I didn’t even know that I needed rescuing until I saw him.

My view of him is blocked as one of the many security guards steps across my line of sight, holding him back and obscuring my glimpse of pure rapture.

That pain in my chest is expanding still, disappointment, gut-wrenching sorrow that makes no sense because I shouldn’t be feeling this way over a stranger. What the hell is wrong with me?

I expel a shaky sigh as I turn away. I’ve got to be realistic about this. Maybe I’m just bat-shit crazy, some kind of stalker or something. I don’t know. A million doubts fill my mind, but they have no grounding because every essence of my being wants him. I don’t know if this is sane, but that’s not going to make a difference. This feeling has already overwhelmed me. Rational thought and common sense have no place here.

I finally notice who is dragging me away. It’s a police officer pulling me safely away from the droves of adoring fans, who seem intent on crushing the objects of their desire rather than honoring them. I wonder if they feel the same way I do. Am I just an adoring fan too? No it can’t be that. I don’t even know who he is.

Why does my heart ache? Why can’t I stop remembering the look in his eyes? Will my dreams be haunted by that look? I don’t know what this is, but I have to find out. I need to find out.

I try to pull my arm out of the policeman’s grip, but he just tightens his hold and scowls at me. Helpless as I’m dragged away, I look back over my shoulder to try to see the man with the blue eyes one more time.

My heart skips a beat. He’s storming toward me, his eyes so determined, his mouth a grim line as he strides through the crowds to get to me. It’s as if no one can touch him. They reach out for him as he passes, but he just brushes by, towering over them like a warrior on a mission with his leather jacket flying behind him as he heads toward me.

I can’t even catch my breath. Watching him steals it away.

“Let her go. She’s with me.” His voice is deep, and the tone seems to reverberate through me. His words are spoken with a smooth British accent that echoes in my ears like an enchanting melody.

The police officer frowns at me.

I nod.

Yes, I’m with him. I’ll always be with him.

My arm is released. Then the officer is gone, lost in the milling crowds.

The streets are going crazy around us as the volatile fans all rush at the barriers, trying to claw their way through other people to get to the horrified actors who are cowering on the stage.

I feel his arm around my waist and his breath on my cheek. “We need to get out of here.” He shouts over the din of a million screaming girls.

I nod, and then I run beside him as he guides me across the street, pulling me into a deserted alley and away from the madding crowds. The passage is narrow and cramped. We can only fit down it one person at a time. The sound of his footsteps behind me sends shivers of excitement shooting down my spine. He’s here. He’s with me.

I slow down, panting for my lost breath as I glance back to make sure I’ve run far enough. I stop and turn to face him. My intention is to speak to him, to try to explain. But the reality is that I don’t know what to say. Even if I did, any words I think of will just get caught in my throat when I look at him again. How do I explain anything that I’m feeling right now? I can’t even look at him without my body responding to him. I can’t stop staring at him as if he’s a god. I’m awestruck, lovestruck, I don’t know what this is, but I know that it’s the most important moment in my life.

I’m his. All I know is that I belong with him.

That look appears in his haunting eyes again, the one that turns my knees to jelly and makes me wonder if I’ve been living a lie my entire life until now. I reach out to touch his face, his beautiful, perfect face. I don’t know if it’s perfect for anyone else, but it’s perfect to me. His eyes, his cheekbones, the shape of his nose, all sculpted as if they were made for me.

I study him, unable to look away and wanting to record every detail in my memory for eternity. There’s a natural downturn in his smile as if he’s been disappointed his whole life too. He’s got a small chickenpox scar on his chin, which indents beneath the shadow of dark stubble. His eyelashes are longer than mine, dark points decorating his big blue eyes.

But it’s more than just how he looks. He’s the other half of me, and I can feel it. We’re connected on some kind of spiritual level that feels like a mystical bond. I know him. I can feel what he feels. Now that he is so close, the need to touch him is so strong, too strong.

He leans closer. I can feel the heat coming off his skin, and his breath warming my cheek. I inhale his scent, alluring aftershave and something masculine that causes my skin to burn with desire.

I need to make some sense out of this. I try to hide the fact that a part of me knows this is fucking insane by clearing my throat as my face flushes with embarrassment. “Look, I know we don’t know each other—”

“I feel as if I’ve known you my entire life.” His deep voice silences me before his lips brush over mine in a soft kiss.

I try not to melt into his kiss, I do. But, God help me, I’m only human. I know he feels the same pull I do, as if the universe is bringing us both together because that was how we were meant to be all along. He’s the part of me that has been missing all these years, and I want to cry for all those times I felt his absence. God, I want to cry for all the moments he wasn’t in my life. Because now that he is, I know he was supposed to be here all along. I can feel it deep inside me. I can’t fight this. I don’t want to fight this.

I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, and I pull him closer, trailing my fingers up the back of his neck and kissing him back. “You’re the only real thing I know.” I whisper in his ear.

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