The wind rushed past him in a roar and threatened to tear the clothes from his flesh. His strawberry blonde hair whipped violently in the air as he raised his arms to inhale the breeze. It smelled of clovers and dew, and left a lingering taste in the back of his mouth. The night sky above him was an endless void of stars. They stared down at him in their white wonder, like the halos of a thousand guardian angels. The moon was their everlasting father, a pale orb hanging full and bright in the sky. Grass cut at his ankles with the force of the bellowing gusts, and he thought—somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind—that those would be a bitch to take a shower with afterward.
But God, it was amazing. The smell, the sounds, the sights of this beautiful field of emerald glory. Crickets chirped everywhere around him, and he laughed as he allowed the wind to finally push him over. He felt the cold night dew soak into his white shirt. He didn't care. Spring blue eyes gazed at the massive expanse of sky in pure ecstasy. He turned his head to the side, and found himself staring into a pair of emerald green eyes. Instead of being alarmed he found himself extremely happy. Slowly his hand lifted to touch the porcelain skin the jewels were set inside. The blonde man's fingers were millimeters away from the flesh he desired to caress when it disappeared in a puff of dandelion seeds. The wind swept them up in a merciless grasp and took them away. Disappointment fell across his features as the sound of someone's laughter, too, swept around him and was ferried off by the wind.