Flip Side

Part One

water swirls, pooling around their feet and lapping up to lightly kiss around bare ankles. oddly calming, although the water rushes in the gap in the roof at an alarming pace. plopping down in the cold, he sits cross-legged, staring down at the water creeping farther and farther up his leg, eventually up to his knee.

she jumps and screams, trying to escape. standing on a small mountain of rubble, she pounds on the metal covering their only possible escape. pressing upwards, she turns quickly and yells for him to help her, to look for a tool, to just do something. he stays sitting and lightly traced his fingertips through the cool, clear liquid.

they are not friends, why should he help her? he doesn’t care if he dies. he doesn’t care if she dies, either. all he wants to do is sleep.

a deafening grinding noise overhead grabs his attention immediately, his head snapping upwards. she has gotten the thick metal sheet to budge slightly. she gasps, clearly surprised that her efforts paid off. she shoves at it again, this time with more force.

it crunches loudly, before moving out of the way in one quick jerk that almost sends her tumbling down the side of the hill. instantaneously, the size of the cascade doubles. she screams, nails scrabbling at the metal as she frantically attempts to pull it back into place.

after letting her try for a minute, he gets up, knowing if she continues she’ll just end up hurting herself. he doesn’t know why or where this sudden burst of compassion has appeared from, but the thought of her with more blood tricking down her arms makes his heart pang with concern.

climbing up the rubble, he wraps an arm around her waist, before lightly pulling her away from the torrent. she strains weakly against him for a handful of milliseconds, which almost goes unnoticed. she gives up and slumps heavily against his chest, looking down.

he tells her there’s nothing else she can do, and if she carries on the way she has been, all she’s going to do is injure herself. she crumples farther, as if his words confirmed the thoughts she’s been trying so hard to deny.

she’s only barely holding herself up, most of her weight being held off the ground by a single arm. he gently rotates her so she leans face first against his chest. she rests her head on his shoulder, her chin tucked into the crook of his neck. he can feel her ragged breaths on his skin and small beads of liquid rolling down between his shoulder blades, but whether they’re tears or water, he cannot tell.