SILVERCHAIR imagines [requests OPEN]

stranded (part two)

Passionate acts with Ben were never fleeting and his stamina hadn't faltered at all. My body ached pleasantly the next morning. He had cocooned my sleeping self with two of his heaviest sweaters. Though most of the days on the island burned our shoulders, the nights turned icy at times, with the chilly air from the misty sea creeping deep into our bones.

When I finally opened my eyes I saw that his body was facing mine and his arms were surrounding my waist for warmth. I wriggled out of his sweaters as carefully as I could and draped them over him after I slid out of his embrace.

A sweetness surrounded my heart as I looked down at him. He looked like a little boy. I bet he was dreaming about surfing and playing video games. I even caught his mouth curving into a grin at one point, and I sighed and imagined how things used to be between us. Maybe he passed a level in his dream game and he was gloating, giving me a kiss on my cheek before gluing his eyes back onto the screen in front of him.

All I know is, he unlocked another level within me just hours ago. And then he unlocked another. Insatiable. My little drummer boy.

I stretched my arms above my head. I slid back into my shorts. They were sandy but at least they were dry now. I found a t-shirt of his thrown in the corner and put that on before stepping out of the tent. I made sure he was still asleep before I walked away. He needed his rest after a night like that.

It was lonely out there on the beach when no one else was next to you. I knew Ben was asleep in our tent. I knew Daniel was somewhere on that island. Far, but not too far to manage before the sun would blaze up high in the middle of the sky above. Chris was most likely gathering our food. He preferred to stay busy and kept all conversations with the others very short. That's how he dealt with all of this, and even though I wished he would open up to me more, I let him go about his business uninterrupted.

He didn't want anyone to help prepare meals with him anymore. He just left them in their designated spots and ate alone. I missed the nights he would make a fire and we would all sit around it. Our mouths were stuffed with tropical fruit and the catch of the day. We didn't have much of a variety there, but he made every meal special. It really helped us make it through the hardest of days. Returning to the firepit every night for dinner was something I looked forward to.

I could hear some music blasting in the distance. Only one person had a radio on the island and he was very protective of it. I took my time walking in the direction of the throbbing bass because its owner probably didn't want company anyway.

There he was bobbing his curly, sun-dusted head of hair up and down to some random dance tune. It wasn't his favorite sort of music, but he was grateful for any music at all. We used to pass the radio around, taking turns. Then one day no one felt like asking him for it, so no one did and the group's radio became Chris's radio. He prepared the meals and kept us all fed asking for nothing in return. He could keep the music.

Chris turned down the volume and spun around. He shot up from the sand and looked at me. I must have looked horrible. My face sunburnt. My hair a knotty mess. My clothing wrinkled and dirty. We had all grown accustomed to our new way of life, but I still felt shameful about my appearance. Somehow the more muscular and rugged and manlier they became over that year on the island, I felt I just grew redder, thinner and more unattractive as each day passed.

My heartbeat quickened and I was about to run away back to my tent. Chris advanced toward me, though, and shut the radio off.

"I heard what you did. Daniel told me what happened," Chris's velvety brown eyes shifted from surprise to worry as he looked me over. "Were we really all that bad?"

I let out a small laugh. He was trying to ease the tension in the air. So typical of him. I just hadn't felt it in so long.

Since he made an effort to walk closer to me, I also made an effort and lessened the space between us. I wrung my fingers in my hand and tried to find the right words.

"Daniel and Ben were at each other's throats. I just couldn't take it anymore. I love them both so much. I didn't want to be the reason for their undoing. I--", again I had to choose my words carefully, but something about Chris made me feel as if I could trust him the most. "It was either I get off this island or..... jump off the cliff."

Tears seared my eyes. I had never told anyone my thoughts. And Chris knew them now. He was the only one that knew my darkest thoughts now.

"No," he quickly made his way over to me and lowered his head so it was square with mine. "Never have those feelings again without telling me first. Daniel and Ben are like brothers to me, but they're too much in their own emotions. One of them should've noticed and cared about how it must've all felt for you."

At that moment, a strong wind soared around us. His curls flew about in the breeze and brushed against his shoulders. They were darkly tanned. He never wore a shirt. Even when it was cold at night. I always wondered how warm he would feel if I were to reach my hand out and touch him. The kind of warmth that maybe would course straight through me, too. Heal me to my core.

I didn't know what to say. Whenever he spoke he meant every word. Had he known there was something I was hiding before I hatched my plan to leave? Had he spied me making my raft? Why didn't he stop me? I frowned and looked down at my bare feet.

He cleared his throat and chuckled. "I wished I had gone with you."

He answered my question without me even saying anything.

"Anywhere with you would've been more of a paradise than what we've all made here," he confessed.

I was about to ask him so many more questions when I heard a growl echo through the air. The gnarly and ghastly sound sprinted between Chris's little patch he had set up as his kitchen area and the shore down the sandy slope that I had climbed to get to him.

My heart jumped in my chest. I felt exposed again. Unsafe. Chris's hand protectively covered my abdomen. It was a reflex, and as soon as he noticed what he had done he took his hand away.

"It's not an animal. It's them," I hissed.

"Not again," Chris swallowed his breath and joined me as we ran down the slope to the shore below.

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xo, 
Leanne