Throttled (Dirty Air 1)
Damn Noah and all his cuteness. My throat feels like I swallowed a rock, unable to say much as I watch all of our memories. Why does he have to be such a sappy yet seductive man?
Tears escape my eyes. Noah occasionally rubs them away with his thumb, my skin heating up at his touch.
He stays silent. The whole thing almost feels like too much. Almost being the keyword since I need to lap up this romantic display and enjoy every second. Duh. I’ll replay this video a hundred times—to my children, my grandchildren, my next-door neighbor. Everyone in walking distance.
A clip plays of me screaming for dear life while he drives the atrocious green Bandini car. He stares at me and laughs while one hand turns the steering wheel, our car drifting as I grip onto him like a lifeline. Must have blacked out because I don’t remember that.
A short scene of my Tequila Talks episode plays. Noah answers the question I ask about his dream girl, but he intensely gazes at me while he responds. I stare straight at the tequila bottle and pick at the label instead of meeting his eyes.
I swear my heart has never beat this fast, questioning another cardiac arrest. A swirl of emotions churns inside of me: happiness, excitement, thankfulness. A whole freaking spectrum.
The screen shows a film from a Brazilian fan based on the terrible quality and backdrop. I crack up while walking up the stairs to the Christ statue. Noah trails behind me, alternating between checking out my ass and looking up at the sky like it can answer his prayers. No such luck though because he’s stuck with me.
Sappiness leaks out of me, along with my tears. “Die a Happy Man” plays low in the background over the part where Noah twirls me around the air after winning the World Championship. Our smiles mimic each other. A beautiful mess surrounds us, with champagne splashing everywhere and confetti launchers exploding on the stage.
I love this cocky, self-assured, yet equally selfless and loving man. No other can ever replace him. I never thought it was possible to love someone like this. Unyielding passion and endless appreciation. Like he hangs the moon before dancing with me under it. Noah never letting a day go by where he doesn’t tell or show me how he loves me. A broken masterpiece no longer defined by his past.
Music cuts out to a black screen. I wipe the tears from my face and look over at Noah.
Except he isn’t in his chair anymore.
He looks up at me with the smirk I love, while he’s down on one knee, holding a ring box.
THE END