On the Top of the Ferris Wheel
Skye has never thought that she would ever come to see this: Grant Ward genuinely surprising her not once, but twice in the span of seventy-two hours.
First by asking her out.
Then by choosing a freaking amusement park as the location of their date.
A honest to god, completely old school amusement park, complete with a creepy haunted house and a giant Ferris wheel and vendors selling funnel cake and cotton candy from little stalls with striped awnings.
She loved the date from the moment it started – and it didn't hurt either that he was being freakishly perfect.
He was game for technically everything. She wanted to take a ride on the roller coaster? Okay, no problem. Try out the haunted house? Sure (he didn't even mock her when she got startled and suddenly grabbed his hand, only held her close until they got out). Have hot-dogs and funnel cake for dinner? Why not? (Also, he actually laughed when she started playing with her food, trying to stuff some into his mouth.)
And he bought her balloons. He brought her freaking, floating, helium filled balloons in silly, cheery colors, with vibrantly colored ribbons tied to them. She almost teared up then – nobody had ever bought her balloons before. (She almost kissed him then; just almost.)
The evening, and with it their date was drawing close to the end; there was only one thing to do before going home back to the Bus, one thing they deliberately left to the end: the Ferris wheel.
The sun had already set, and the street lamps in the park and out on the streets were turned on; tiny specks of light, thousands and thousands of far-away fireflies, at least that's what they seemed to be from the height. They were almost to the top now, her balloons tied to her wrist as she gripped the railing. They sat in silence, looking ahead instead of at each other – and she suddenly felt an urge to laugh, because it struck her how much this was like the first date of the teenagers.
Inexperience, even some blushing, the clichéd place and activities, but the complete feeling of elation, as if it was The. Best. Day. Of. Her. Life, and the giddiness, oh, the giddiness… And now this: not daring to look at the other in fear of doing something embarrassing – like kissing, although it was what they both wanted.
A tiny chuckle just escaped from between her lips in the end.
"What?" Grant turned towards her in an instant. "Are you okay?"
She couldn't keep herself from chuckling again.
"Sure," she said, then continued, deciding to go for being coy. "I was just thinking about how you want to kiss me."
"Sorry?" He leaned back a little. She couldn't have been completely sure in the poor lighting, but it almost seemed like he blushed – like a little boy, with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
"It's okay," she teased, but still not moving towards him. "It's a perfectly 'first date' thing to do – kissing, thinking about kissing… I would honestly feel violated if you didn't want to kiss me. I mean, this whole date would feel kind of unfinished without it."
His body language slowly got more relaxed as she spoke. He leaned closer, a small smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.
"So do you want to kiss me?" he asked, his tone matching hers.
She smirked – he was getting the hang of it.
"Well, I would actually prefer if you initiated it, y'know, being traditional and all," she explained, moving closer to him and licking her lips as in invitation. "But if you don't move soon, I'm afraid I'll have to take things into my own hands." To illustrate this, she raised her hands from the railing.
"We wouldn't want that," he said with something akin to the mixture of amusement and desire flashing in his eyes; then he grabbed her wrists and pulled her close, one hand slipping into her hair as he kissed her – right on the top of the Ferris wheel.
As clichéd as it is, it was her best first kiss.