stranded || tayjoe

chapter fourteen

Taylor's feet rested beneath Joe's, being kept warm through the chill breeze that weaved through the air. "You have a droplet of juice on your cheek," Joe noted as he sat adjacent to her.

Averting her gaze from the moon she wiped her cheek, mumbling, "Thanks."

Battling between wanting to be polite and being curious, Joe asked a question that had been nagging at him, "So do you think your family will come back? To the island?"

Taylor wanted to lie and say that yes, of course they would. But she knew they wouldn't. Ever since Marjorie passed away they had packed up everything on the island and never looked back. That was about twenty years ago. "I don't think so," She replied softly.

"Oh," Joe replied, disappointment evident in his voice. Their whole time on the island they at least had a sliver of hope that someone would come back. Now the chances felt even slimmer.

"Sorry," Taylor apologized feebly.

Joe instantly shook his head, "You don't have to apologize for anything."

She sighed, "I know, I just hate the fact that chances are we'll be stuck here for the rest of our fucking lives. We're this close to being saved, we literally have a personal connection to the island, yet somehow the connection drags us further away from being rescued. It almost feels like it's my family's fault."

"It's not," Joe assured her. "If they had an inkling that we were here, I'm sure they'd be here in an instant."

"I guess," Taylor picked at her nail. Desperate for a change in subject she went to the first thing she could think of, "What about your family? How are they?"

Joe hesitated, "They're good."

Only then did Taylor remember what he said about his brothers. Her face flushed, embarrassed for even touching on the subject. Trying to play it off, she moved on, "How are your parents?"

"Good," Joe said simply, picking at the edge of his nail.

One could cut the tension with a knife. Sometimes they wanted to do just that. "Cool," Taylor breathed out awkwardly. Soon after they both made their way to bed since the family topic threw off the rest of their evening. They still slept in separate spaces. Taylor on the sleeping bag and Joe on the sand. They were at an unusual balance with each other. During the fight they thought they were most definitely 'broken up' from whatever they said. Then after they just never discussed it more. Neither of them knew how to bring it up. They weren't uncomfortable with being close together, but they hadn't had a full kiss since the fight, nor had they slept that close to each other. That was until tonight.

"Excited for your birthday?" Joe asked from across the room. "Just two days away."

"On one hand yeah," Taylor scrunched up her nose. "But on the other hand, I hate the thought of getting older."

"You're only turning twenty-six," Joe reminded her. "You still have a lot left to go."

"Hopefully." The pessimistic word hung in the air between them.

Joe rubbed his neck, "Well, are you excited for Christmas?"

"Of course," Taylor returned to her cheery tone. "Are we doing something like a gift thing? Or not really. To be honest I don't know what I could get you."

He shrugged, "We can just keep it simple and do no gifts. We'll just enjoy the time." She nodded through the darkness, adjusting her position on the sleeping bag. The space between them felt like a large canyon. One that Joe desperately wanted to cross. "Weather's getting a bit chillier," he noted. Taylor mumbled a 'yeah' in response. "Are you cold at all? I could see if there's something you could use as an extra blanket."