Empty: Book 1

26 : Dan. Dan. Dan. Dan

PANA

"Excuse me, have you seen my child? in case she has been here"

Wakened spirit in a half, my eyes unwillingly opened for this unknown woman who engaged to disturb my second moment of natural rest, showing a photograph of a girl I hadn't seen even as a corpse or dead. The woman's looking down to my perspective, thus I discover my disposition still on the sand with Joas who's safely unconscious on my side while above's still dark but smells like a brand new assistance of light. The woman stands still, hoping for a contrast of the answer she doesn't want to hear.

"No," I told and rendered her face crawl with hopelessness, for what more can I say?

The mild sound made Joas awake, "Everything okay?" he gets up to sit, furrowed eyes in anxious curiosity as the woman vanished by a walk right after a polite bow.

"Daughter. Missing" I answered him, voice pealing like somebody when it's him who's hearing.

Concern in his eyes is traveling to observe the surroundings, silently processing the knowledge for quite too long before again speaking, "Let's head back inside," his words alternating a move with his thumb softly stroking my thigh that had been clung to his, the sensation serves as motivation for me not to agree. I want his hand to dig into my limb until my bones turn his.

Divine, is how he looks at me when waiting for a response I have no plan to give him. He only receives a stare admiring him from this grade where he looks much bigger, magnificently dominating my frame of mind I would love to eternally own. My hips are his next prey to pursue, but I'm not moving. I'm still unable to move, I don't even want to move, at least not anymore. Here I long to die in this powdery ground as a perfect floor for our perfect bodies to be buried six feet under by the tides.

"...let's clean up then rest in a real bedroom, can we?" he softly whined, for me to discover the wet sand molding in our bodies that started to make an itch, a hidden message for me to lick it out of his skin, and he'll lick mine, even unsure of its tastiness.

I'd failed to understand what he meant by cleaning until he fetched me into this familiar chamber of aromatic substances, garnished vessels of water organized, bathroom is what he named it. The walls are polished wood divided by glass and cozy lamps present illuminance for me to see this man I'm alone with.

With the caring assistance of his hands, I had my garments wholly removed and let my body be freed to be dipped under the warm water of a large container he called a tub. He's sitting close behind mine as we're soaking in this little pond with no presence of any piece of fabric to antagonist the pure. I'm a safer human folded between his parted thighs, relaxed by the grooving heated water and by him. Unreal is the word for the feeling, helmed by the softness of his hand fascinating my nape with a fragrant foam running down to my back, sliding softly into my shoulder.

I like it.

"Why... why did you taste it? is that truly your dead thing culture?" he questioned a consequence when the act I did on the human matter I found on my private organ was mistakenly revealed by my own ignorant tongue. "...you're a baby, yes, holistically, but must not forget you're a human who could easily absorb some illness by that little mouth. Do you know what pneumonia is?" I'm a noble discovering why many are still stuck in that phase. "...you're lucky that vaginal discharge has health benefits, miss" he added. It's all yours. I need no flavorless ingredient living on my body.

Probably the reason that great nourishments are tasted not fine is for human bodies to lack them. I have no plan to taste it again for the sake of me.

Joas seems to love what he's doing and so am I— watching him do the care I'm supposedly doing on my own while he's starving me more by the healthy veins luring through his long naked arms seducing me a chew, like an offer, "...give me your left hand" he commanded, and I heed, too late to realize I'm busted in fake paralyzation.