Lifeboat

24. Caution

Dante's shoulders hunched, his head hung down as he fixed his eyes on the floor. He sat back on his behind and pulled his knees up in front of himself. Hugging them closely, he began to rock gently, raising and lowering his black soled feet. Each time they made contact with a delicate slap on the smooth surface, it sent a shiver up my spine.

I sighed and stretched my body, cat-like over my crossed legs. The ache at the base of my back eased somewhat with the movement. We were taking too long. If we didn't move soon there was a chance we could be restrained and drugged again. I didn't wish to lose more days that way.

My stretching fingers grazed the floor within a whisper of Dante's toes. Some of his toenails had turned black, others had cracked and worn down with the strain of so much walking.

He'd never once complained about the time he'd spent on the road. However long that had been. He never really complained about anything.

This unloading of his thoughts came as a wake up call to me. The world had become a much more complicated place in the space of a few moments.

Or could it be that I finally permitted the world to affect me?

His big toe twitched erratically. It flicked independently from the rest of his toes. A rebel without a cause. The sight of it brought a smile to my face. He stopped rocking.

"Is there something funny?"

His sharp tone caught me off guard. I stuttered a reply, grabbing at the first words to enter my mind.
"I would suppose not. Is there something else you'd like me to sit here and suffer listening to or can we leave?"

He brought his head up to look at me. I didn't like the way he replied.
"What a surprise."

I straightened up and he mirrored my action. Now, face to face we froze. The reflection of the orange light caused flecks of amber to spark in his eyes. I could also see my own image, black hair, long and thick. Black eyes. Black lips. My skin, the colour of terracotta under the light. I hardly recognised myself.

Dante cleared his throat, the intensity of the moment passed. His jawline softened as he unclenched his teeth causing the twisted sensation in my stomach began to subside.

"I have to be honest with you, Poll."

"About what?"

He ran his tongue over his dry, cracked lips.
"I'm undecided as to whether or not I can trust you."

I took hold of my ankles, my legs cool to the touch of my sweating palms. Remaining locked to his gaze, I searched for any sign of humour in his eyes.

Is this a joke?

He continued speaking softly, his expression unchanged.
"Why do you know this place? Why are you with me? How did you happen to come across me at the castle? What's even more disturbing is why I have never thought about this until now."

He lowered his head and my heart sank.
"I gave you my complete confidence, undermining the warnings from Marco. Why was that?" He brought his head back up and stared deep into my eyes. "What is it about you that makes such a fool of me?"

Prickles of tears threatened to engulf my eyes. I swallowed and fought them back. My voice came out weak and dry.
"I can't tell you that. I don't know. I only know that you can trust me. I will get us out of here and I never had any hidden agenda behind finding you. It was fate. And I'm so..."
My voice broke and the tears flooded free. My heart thumped. The blood pounded in my ears. I could feel my cheeks turning red.
"I'm so happy I found you. I wouldn't have survived without you. I'm not sure if I can now."

My body racked with pent up emotions finally released. I couldn't stop crying. My nose began to stream, my head ached with the pressure of blood surging through my veins. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried this way. If I ever had.

This sorry state continued for far too long. I dug my nails into my ankles in an attempt to bring myself back to order.

Stop it! Just stop being such a baby. He's never going to respect you again. He's never going to trust you again.

My inner thoughts did nothing to alleviate the pain which stabbed me on the inside. I'd lost him for good. I was certain.

The pressure from Dante's hand on my left upper arm sank warmly through my thin sleeve. My sobs lightened, my breathing eased. Another patch of heat lay on my right knee. His hand spread joy and hope through my bare skin.

He does care.

I knew he cared.

Swiping the sleeve of my right arm across my nose, I glanced up through sore, blurry eyes to check his face.

He smiled.

I took a deep breath and weakly returned his smile.

"You're a mess." He grinned, any sign of his previous coldness had passed. "And I don't mean only at this point. You, Poll Tander, are a complete mess. How did I end up with you? What on earth am I supposed to do with you?"

"You can start..." I snivelled back, using my tunic as a tissue. "You can start by being a little bit nicer to me and believing in me. I have no idea how I know what I'm doing, but I do know the way out."

Dante ever so slightly lifted the pressure off his hands. I peered cautiously into his eyes, searching again for the truth behind his actions.
"And you can help me up. I think my legs have gone to sleep."

Dante's face lit up as he burst out in laughter. His infectious joy relieved my anxiety, a giggle escaped me. Before I knew it, I was laughing along with him. This time tears of happiness seeped their way out, cooling the sting of the former bitter ones.

Catching his breath, Dante grasped both my arms, his eyes watery and bright.
"You're going to have to get me up as well. I haven't felt my feet for the last ten minutes."

We laughed again, our frivolity coming to an end in heavy sighs and shy glances.
"Come on," he grinned. "Let's push ourselves up on each other. Ready?"

Taking a hold of his arms, I prepared myself for the effort. With a grimace and grunt I used his weight to lever myself up on my feet. Instant pins and needles caused me to hop from one heavy foot to the other.

Only once the blood had returned to its usual flow throughout my lower body, did I realise that Dante was still holding me.