Chapter 3
"There's fireworks tonight in the park.
They're doing an annual bonfire or something.
Do you want to come and watch it with me?" I ask nervously, and then I pause and nearly slap myself in the face.
"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry.
I forgot, I –"
Oliver laughs and I'm glad he can't see that I'm blushing in mortification.
Ialwaysdo this.
Two months spending time with him and I keep forgetting he's blind.
Last week, I'd asked him to come and watch a movie with me.
He'd said yes before I realized how stupid that was.
And even when I'd expressed my horror, he'd laughed it off and said, I'd love to watch a movie with you, Daniel, staring at me with those blue, blue eyes and I'd felt myself turn to mush, embarrassment forgotten.
We'd watched the movie with me whispering everything that was happening in his ear, to the annoyance of everyone in the theatre, but seeing him smile so wide, his blue eyes bright with joy and excitement, I couldn't feel bad about it one bit.
*
"Oh my God, there it is!" Oliver yells, pointing outside the window of the cab.
"Where?" I ask excitedly, glancing in the direction he'd pointed to.
He starts laughing and I feel my cheeks heat in mortification.
"I fucking hate you."
His laughter only doubles, tears leaking out of his eyes as he searches in his jacket pockets for his inhaler.
I think it's both cute and a little frustrating that he always nearly laughs himself into hyperventilating.
"No, you don't," he responds when he gets his breath back.
"No, I don't," I sigh, smiling softly at him while he beams like the wonderful idiot that he is.
*
My sister says that when you listen to someone's favourite music, it says a lot about them.
My eyes are closed, and listening to the music Oliver has created, I feel like I know every inch of his soul.
It's excruciatingly beautiful.
"What do you think?
Yay or nay for my final piece?" he asks from across the room, smiling at me and rocking back and forth with excitement.
I grin back at him, my heart going haywire at the halo of colours behind him as a result of his sitting on the window sill, the sun shining behind him making him look like an angel.
"Definitelyyay," I respond.
He smiles and if he notices that I take the iPod and earphones with me when I leave his house later, he doesn't comment on it.
*
Each time we go out together, after Oliver has dropped Cooper off at his parent's place downtown, Oliver has to hold my elbow.
The first times he'd done it, at the cinema and even during the fireworks, it had been out of necessity.
But this – this is different.
He's got his cheek resting on my shoulder as we walk, both his hands wrapped around my right elbow as I lead us through the throng of bodies in the park, currently filled with a travelling fair.
My stomach is swooping with butterflies and my eyes are positively aching as the longer he holds onto me, not-so-subtlety rubbing his cheek against my shoulder, the brighter and more colourful the world becomes.
The lights are yellow and gold and nearly blinding, the little stalls are a mix of reds and whites and blues, and the grass is a lovely shade of dark green as the sun begins to set.
Oliver insists on playing most of the games, especially the 'throw the hoop over the bottle' ones, and it makes me shake my head even when my feelings are all going haywire.
Once, when he misses the hoops so many times and by so far off – he'd refused my help, as expected – the man behind the counter asks in exasperation, "Jeez, you're like the worst player I've ever had.
Are you blind or something?"
I feel myself tense, but Oliver bursts out laughing as he nods, "Why yes, Iamblind."
The man sputters uncomfortably, and the way I'm glaring so hard at him makes him shrink in on himself as he apologises profusely.
Oliver waves him off, too forgiving, as usual.
The night continues like that, and I've nearly emptied all my pockets when Oliver finally gets a hoop, winning himself a teddy bear that's nearly his height.
"Oh my God, please tell me it's pretty," he asks, voice breathy with excitement as he hugs the huge bundle of fur to his chest, my arm wrapped casually around his hip to steer him through the crowd.
"It's got a blue bow.
It matches your eyes," I tease, nearly stumbling and falling when Oliver suddenly stops walking.
I turn to look at him questioningly, and it takes me a second to realize what I'd just said.
"You can see in colour?" he asks, his voice quiet.
I hadn't wanted to tell him because I didn't want it to change anything.
I didn't want him to like me because of the silly soulmate bull crap.
I'd wanted him to like me forme.
I know that makes me sound hypocritical, after all, it was the colour of his eyes that drew me in, but there it is.
"I think you should take me home," he says when I don't respond, taking my lack of answer as confirmation.
It feels like my heart plummets down to the floor at the lack of emotion in his voice.