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─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Air.
Lungs filled to the complete maximum, heart thumping in her chest as the warm blood ran freely through her body, yet her throat grew tight as the girl wheezed and gasped for air, stopping dead in her tracks as a body collided into hers.
"Ophelia. We need to keep moving." John B Routledge's hoarse and panicked filled voice alerted Ophelia's ringing ears, though her worn out converse remained glued to the sickening hot pavement of the Nassau streets.
"You need to keep moving." Ophelia hushed lowly, her vision blurred as she spoke. "I'm not a wanted fugitive. I've been kidnapped against my own will." And then a hand tugged at hers, and Ophelia began moving once again.
The crowded streets were busy with locals and tourists, much reminding her of the Outer Banks - where she once called home, was now an ocean away as she was tugged through the Bahamas with only one thing on her mind.
"Sarah, are you sure about this?" Almost in utter denial, Sarah Cameron nodded furiously, her eyes wandering over to the dark haired girl who strayed far behind. "It's the safest place we can be." The Fairmont Hotel.
Despite not knowing her way around a foreign country, and the ringing in her ears causing her brain to nearly explode, Ophelia knew one thing. She had to find a phone, and get a hold of Rafe. It was all she had left.
Slipping past the pair, who hadn't seemed to be bothered by Ophelia's presence, cascaded up the hotel stairs, running into a hotel maid with a genuine smile plastered across her face. The complete and exact opposite of Ophelia's stone cold expression, one that's lined with fear and lingering tear stains.
"Hey. Good day." Ophelia's lips trembled, nodding softly at the women who turned her back towards Ophelia, giving her the clearing she needed. Bloodshot eyes dancing over the trolly, a once manicured and tanned arm reached out for the women's phone, only to be torn away by the hand of another, masking the tender markings littering the girls tainted skin.
"Sorry, Ophelia." John B hushed lightly, one hand wrapped firmly around the phone, the other holding it's place on Ophelia's upper back. "As much as I'm trying to like you, I still don't trust you. I don't trust Rafe."
Ophelia trusted Rafe. In fact, she didn't trust anyone else - especially John B or Sarah Cameron. At least, not anymore.
The sky was lit perfectly, the bright blue ambiance slowly washing over with hues of pinks and orange. The couple stood off in the distance, looking undeniably happy, which only made Ophelia sick.
