Use the following prompt in your story.
"The cigarette rested between his pink lips, his pale blue eyes strictly focused on her."
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This is supposed to be the happiest place on earth, but I'd let it all burn. Wendy looked around her in disdain, noting the tremendous number of mouse ears people were sporting as they shuffled through the park. Sure, she had loved the whole 'Disney' thing as a child, but she'd grown out of it. Unfortunately, it was time for her family's annual holiday, and seeing as her sister had just started her own Disney phase, her parents had decided to drag them all along to Disneyland.
“Honey, stop frowning,” her mother murmured beside her, and she gave the older woman a raised eyebrow.
“You haven't exactly given me a reason not to, mum,” Wendy muttered back, gaining herself a dirty look in response. She couldn't have cared any less, to be quite honest. Her mother had been a part of the Disney childhood as well, hence the names of her children – Wendy, Ariel and Oliver. It seemed the woman had never grown out of that childhood stage.
With a sigh, Wendy brushed her hair out of her eyes and squinted at the signs pointing her around. She saw one that mentioned food, which instantly made her stomach grumble. She poked her father's shoulder with one finger, tearing his attention away from little gurgling Oliver in his stroller.
“Dad, I'm starved. Can I get something to eat and meet you guys at the carousel later?” She was hoping to get away from this madness, and it worked – her father gave her the nod of approval and looked back to Oliver, allowing Wendy to scurry off into the crowd, away from the watchful gaze of her mother.
She wandered the brightly coloured streets, occasionally stopping to give looks of digust and annoyance to certain tourists taking selfies in the middle of the pathway, or every so often, watching a child harass their favourite actors. There was a moment where she spotted the fake Wendy skipping towards her, trailing a line of adoring girls in dresses and pigtails. The real Wendy averted her eyes and ducked into a small alcove, hoping to avoid her namesake.
She was watching the actress pass by when she heard a small voice in her ear, “You aren't supposed to be in here.”
The voice made her jump and spin, hitting the owner in the face. She shrunk back slowly, holding her hand and her eyes wide with horror, “Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you.”
“It's fine, just shut up for a minute,” he responded. He removed his hand from his face, where it had been gingerly pressing against his reddening cheek, and she almost squeaked as she took in his features.
Oh man, I'm screwed.
He was beautiful. His short black hair curled wildly around his ears, the fringe falling over his eyebrows. A cigarette rested between his pink lips, his pale blue eyes strictly focused on her. His cheek was forming a red mark where she had accidentally hit him, and she physically cringed at the sight, reaching unconsciously to press it gently with her fingertips. His eyes fluttered closed at her touch, but even as she realized what she was doing, neither of them moved away.
“I'm sorry for hitting you,” she said softly, and he bowed his head slightly, a grin forming on his gorgeous lips.
“Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have scared you. But really, you aren't supposed to be in here.”
Wendy removed her hand and placed it on her hips haughtily. “And somehow, I don't think you're meant to have that in this park, either.” She gestured towards the slowly burning cigarette in his mouth. “There's a few non-smoking signs hanging around, not to mention security.”
The boy laughed. “Fuck the security, love. They can't do shit to me.”
“Then why are you hiding in here?”
That shut him up. Which Wendy was quite sad about, because he had a lilt to his voice that almost made him sound like he was from London.
“What's your name, anyway? It's certainly not Prince Charming.”
“You can still call me that. Or Eric, if you prefer.”
“Eric? Really? Did you parents name you after a movie about a singing mermaid?”
“Oh, you're hilarious. Yes, they did. Why do you think I'm here? And what, you think yours is any better, Cinderella?”
“Actually, it's Wendy.”
“Ah! There we go. Wendy? Really? Did your parents name you after a movie about a flying child?” he mocked, the cigarette tilting dangerously on his lips. Wendy huffed, pulling her hoodie tighter across the front of her body and turning away.
“If that's how you're going to act, then I have better places to be than here.” She moved to leave, but his hand reached out and held her arm fast. The movement jerked her back into his arms, where she paused out of shock before scrambling away. Eric blinked at her slowly.
“Look, just stay with me a bit? You're pretty cool. That isn't something I can say about many people that come to this place.” Wendy thought on it for a second, watching him blankly. A flicker of hurt crossed his face at her hesitation. He shook his head, removing the cigarette from his mouth and throwing it to the ground, stomping it out. “You know what? Forget it.”
This time, Wendy was the one who reached for him, clutching at the sleeve of his jacket like it was a lifeline. He looked down on her with a calculating glance.
“Stay?”
Eric nodded his consent and moved back into the alcove, sliding down to a seated position. He looked up at Wendy, asking a silent question. She smiled and slid down next to him, their knees overlapping in the small space.
“Why do you avoid the actors?” Wendy wasn't expecting that one, so she paused. She knew what he meant. It was just a loaded question.
“I don't like being reminded of my childhood,” she responded after a moment. She didn't look at him, but she could feel the burn of his gaze on the side of her head. “I haven't got great memories of the time I loved Disney anymore. They've all been ruined.”
“You should make some new memories, then,” Eric told her. She turned and frowned at him, but he seemed serious about it. “Do something awesome to create a new outlook on the whole thing, and fuck your past. You only have the present, so what's the point dwelling on what has already gone by?”
Wendy could feel a few small, hot tears welling up in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, but found she couldn't. One of them rolled down her cheek, making Eric swallow his next words.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.”
She shook her head, moving her hand to grasp at his, entwining their fingers together.
“It's okay. These are good tears. You've just told me what I needed to hear eight years ago. And you know what? You're right. I do need to make new memories,” she glanced around them, “The best place to start is the heart of Disney, right? This is called the happiest place on earth for a reason. Why don't we make it that way?”
With that, Eric leaned in and captured her lips with his. They were warm and soft, much unlike the way they looked. Wendy smiled into the kiss.
This is supposed to be the happiest place on earth. I now know why.
