Blind // Justin Bieber [under minor editing]

Chapter Twenty Five

The cold air pricked my face as we walked hand in hand along the glazed pavement, Justin’s hands were warmer than mine, so I clutched onto them to receive just a little more warmth. Small, weightless crystals of snow hovered around in the breeze, taking their time to reach the ground. They clung to my coat, giving no signs of melting anytime soon. We were the only ones walking down the street, why on earth people didn’t come outside and admire the frozen city, was beyond me. But then again, I was hesitant when Justin said we would be walking, when clearly it was minus degrees outside and the icy streets were a hazard.

Extraordinarily, Justin was the one leading me down the street, when usually it would be me leaning him. How did he know where he was going? His thoughts were focused on his footsteps; every so often I would hear him mutter a number like ‘120’ or ‘134’. They were only two of the few numbers he would whisper as he took another step. I’d guessed it was his way of keeping track of where we were heading, he must have planned the route out previously. I prevented myself from talking, disturbing his concentration.

 I was so anxious about him taking it into his own hands to lead us, not because I didn’t trust him, or because I thought he was unable to – he obviously was, but because if I couldn’t see when the pavement was safe to walk on or whether it was coated in a layer of ‘black ice’, how would he?

I hated being so apprehensive around Justin, as I knew it made him feel different, so I tried my best to let my worries settle. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate my annoyingly concerned nature, so barred myself from letting my feeling facade.

Snowflakes rested on my eyelashes, weighing down my eyelids. I struggled to keep my eyes open as the wind stung my eyes and caused them to water. But yet, I couldn’t pick out anything I would want to change. Funnily enough. Everything was just so Christmassy – what would you expect, really – and the thought of having a White Christmas was almost heart-warming.

Justin’s warm hands left my hold, and instead wrapped around my waist, hugging my shivering body to his side. His thumb rubbed aimlessly over my skin just above my hip, as he lifted up the back of my jumper slightly. I shivered, partly because his hands were incredibly cold, and partly because of the constant shivers and goose bumps I receive whenever we touch.

Soon enough, a small snow covered structure came into sight. The lights from a passing car reflected –from what I presumed to be- windows. The chilling sound of snow crunching beneath the cars wheels slowly faded as it drove away, and we walked further forward. Justin started heading towards the small structure, and I had no other thing to do but to follow silently behind him. His – now rather warm – hands slithered back from around my waist, and he clutched lightly onto my hand instead. It was like my comfort had left, only to be returned soon after.

The sunlight shone upon the structure, causing a murky, gloomy shadow to cast over the side we were facing. In any other situation I would have found the scene eerie, and spooky, but at that moment I felt excitement, eagerness and slight confusion over why he had taken me here. Maybe to enjoy the view? – it was certainly not a view you would see every day.

Justin’s small whispers of numbers echoed in my head, but at times I blanked out a little, and focused on the rustling of the crisp leaves threatening to fall from the trees cascading over us. As we drew closer, I spotted flickering lights, much like candle flames, as the ginger light shone from within the structure.

A shed? Greenhouse? Unbelievably tiny house?

“It’s a bandstand” Justin confirmed, and his eyes flickered to about where I stood. I blocked my eyes from the oncoming wind with my hand, allowing myself to see the bandstand. The structure was beautiful – truth be told – it was different to any other bandstand as its walls were nothing but clear glass. Its roof and banisters were painted a summery pale pink, with a small green – due to rust – swallow figure at its highest peak. Bandstands were usually open, with no boundaries such as windows or doors.