I reached over, lacing our fingers together, resting them on the center console; the cold leather a slight shock to the growing warmth between our hands.
I looked over at him, a contented smile spread across his lips while his eyes gave me a quick sweep before diverting themselves back to the road. His fingers giving my own a light squeeze, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm and straight to my heart; he had proposed to me only an hour before, in a manner that was entirely him:
"I want you to marry me." His face held no expression, his eyes, however, were glazed over and shining with confidence, already knowing what my answer would be. Straight to the point, no holding back what was on his mind; he had almost always been this way with me. He knew what he wanted.
I continued walking along the railing of the bridge, taking my time, watching my toes pass over the slightly uneven masonry, hopping down when I reached the end. I purposely angled my body away from his and towards the water, teasing him a little for his sure attitude ; the beautiful grove that had instantly become my favorite place to be many years before hand; courtesy of my mother, seemed to move in one graceful motion as a light, crisp breeze blew through the trees.
Our reflections shone brightly on the water, the full moon and the stars painting an otherworldly background for our serene and rippled figures. His form rising several inches above my own; I watched as his hand encompassed mine, as his eyebrows rose, and as he cracked a nervous grin.
I turned to look at him, smiling hugely, throwing myself into his arms, embracing him, melding our bodies together, if only to escape the cold that had settled along the water's edge. That had been answer enough for him.
The wind kicked up before we could even see the clouds; pushing the car past the dotted lines in the center of the road. The night sky was becoming darker, inky, and ominous as the stars disappeared from view. Then came the lightening: angry flashes of light that cracked the sky into pieces, continuing with their outbursts of rage and hostility as thunder tore through the trees that lined the sides of the road.
We came to a stop light, the rain coming down in torrents, pummeling on the car, creating a sound of its own nearly as loud as the thunder. He looked over at me, smiling at me, my favorite smile; his eyes glistening with pure elation. My fingers brushed against his lips as he brought my hand to his face; a bright light illuminated the back of his head, his hair became translucent, his face silhouetted, I could only imagine what his face might have looked like as he read the expression on mine as I realized what the light meant.
The impact rang loud in my ears, more loudly than anything I had heard in my life. My body met roughly with the door, my head slamming into the glass hard enough to shatter it; his fingertips clenching mine was all that I was completely aware of. What I could make out of the horizon switched out with the ground several times before coming to a stop: I could feel the wet pavement beneath my fingers, one half of my face submerged in a puddle, his fingers were limp in mine. I squeezed them, desperate for some comfort, some kind of response; I received no such thing, instead, I was met with darkness; the soundtrack to my state of disbelief being nothing but that of the rain. There was no longer any lightening, no thunder, no wind. Silence.