Ghost Towns

Seventeen

When Rye's eyes flickered open the next morning, all she wanted to do was to fall back into dreamland. She was just so comfortable - the rain had slowed to a slow, steady, drizzle, and the rhythm lulled her. And she was warm. She tried to move and immediately found that she could not.

All thoughts of sleep disappeared then. Rye had no idea how she ended up curled on the floor against Jax's chest, with his arm draped across her waist. She was further unnerved by the fact that it was so nice.

She angled her head slightly, looking up at Jax. He was still asleep, his face relaxed and settled. He looked so peaceful and she was loathe to disturb him, but the mortification of being caught like this sent her blushing violently.

Unfortunately, Rye's attempt at subtlety was in vain, as Jax's eyelids flipped open the second she attempted to squeeze out from under his arm.

For one very long moment, he only stared, as if he were trying to remember how this had happened. He stared. At her, at his arm around her, and at the cave around them.

Abruptly, he let go, and Rye scrambled back. But not before noticing the bit of pink crawling out of his collar.

They say on opposite sides of the little hollow, which only put a little space between them anyway. Neither of them was willing to meet the others eyes, and so a dense silence fell over them both. There was a newfound awkwardness that Rye had never before felt in Jax's presence, and it was not because she disliked him or thought him a strager. Neither of those things were true anymore. On the contrary, Rye was quickly realizing how far deep she was in something she hadn't realized that she had waded into in the first place.

She stole a glance at him, as he watched the rain. The dark, slightly curled hair and his grey eyes were familiar now, but simultaneously new, as if she were seeing him for the very first time. How had she not noticed the plane of his cheeks before, the slope of his now-slightly-crooked nose? Or the breadth of his shoulders, or the fine shadow under his jaw? How could anyone miss that? Rye chastised herself silently for not noticing these very important things the first time she saw him.

They ate half of their remaining sandwich each and talked about mundane things. Neither of them wanted to sit in silence, but were struck by a sudden and unexpected streak of embarrassment.

"I think the rain will stop soon," Jax said, glancing out the sky through the gap in the stone. He had a talent for predicting these things. "We could be home by tonight if we don't stop for too long."

She followed his eyes to the forest, "I think so too," she agreed. It was already calming to a drizzle.

So they waited, in the not at all stifling but still very present atmospheres of each other, still not able to meet gazes.

As abruptly as it had appeared, the sense of awkwardness disappeared as soon as they were back in the forest. When the rain had stopped and showed no sign of starting up again, Jax crawled out of the space they had entered through. Rye followed him soon after, blinking against the brightness of the world outside. It was only then that she realized how claustrophobic the cave walls were, and how much she missed the sight of trees around her. She smiled gently to herself. The forest called her, even when she was in it.

Jax had a similar look on his face, clearly happy to be back out in the open air. He reached out and took Rye's hand, ignoring the awkwardness that had plagued them all morning. As they began their walking again, though, Rye's smile faltered. The feeling that had driven her through the forest in the first place went up fizzling in sparks.

They marched on, at a slower pace than usual. The ground was wet, muddy, and altogether miserable to walk upon, and though the rain had stopped, the cold left behind had not. Rye was slowly tiring out, but the thought of stopping and having to spend a night in the wet forest floor kept her moving alongside Jax. She was most looking forward to something warm to eat and a dry bed to sleep in. Jax too, was determined to make it back to Maria and Hugh's before nightfall. He seemed to be alert, and though Rye couldn't sense them like he could, she knew that it was because they were close to Onyx territory. Another reason not to be out after dark.

Perhaps it was because they were going at such a fast pace that they didn't notice the ball of fur before it was nipping at their ankles.

Jax was muttering something in annoyance, but Rye was too overcome with joy to care.

"Goldie!" She shrieked, too loudly for a forest where even the birds were fearful of wolves.

She scooped the miserable cat up into her arms, without a thought for her clothes getting all muddy.

"What little hole did you hide out in?" She laughed, kissing the cat sloppily between the ears. Goldie was surprisingly dry, though his paws were dirty.

"Jax it's Goldie!" Rye exclaimed, "I can't imagine how he found us," the poor cat meowed in irritation. He always did hate being carried. But Rye was not about to let him go so soon.

Hesitantly, Jax reached out to touch him, relaxing when Goldie merely hissed at him and did not attack.

"He must be cold. And hungry," Jax said, a small smile hovering beneath his lips, "I guess we could spare a little bit of time to let him warm up,"

Rye grinned, and shot him a grateful look. He hadn't even questioned for a moment whether they were bringing the mean little creature with them.

The ground was wet, so Jax hoisted himself into the low hanging branch of a thick tree instead. Carefully, Rye sat down beside him, on the side bent enough that it was nearly touching the ground. She nestled the cat in her lap and pulled her skirts up to the knee, wrapping Goldie in all the excess fabric. He relaxed, then, as Jax fished out a bit of meat from somewhere deep in his pocket.

"He's lucky I had just one more peice," he laughed, petting Goldie again on the head. The cat purred this time and Jax and Rye both laughed. Apparently, Jax was no longer an enemy to the cat.

The clouds began to thin, and so the sun peeked out onto the world. Ever so slowly, things grew warm again, and Goldie hopped out of Rye's lap to lay in a sunbeam. Rye and Jax watched on, talking softly, falling easily into the comfortable spell of each other's presence.

She couldn't stop looking at him. It was as if her eyes had been pinned open now, and she had to check back every few minutes to verify that he was really there and really just as beautiful as the moment before. The sun came out in all it's glory, falling across his face just the way it had all those days ago in the clearing where he lay in the grass. Rye could not look away anymore. I see you now.

Whatever Jax had been saying died on his lips. He was staring back at her, as if he was remembering the same moment, as if he could read her thoughts. And despite the earlier awkwardness that had come with the sudden realization that both of them were spiralling into something that drew them together like gravity, Rye did not want her thoughts to hide anymore.

And yet... there always existed an element of fear. The consequence of losing someone was worse the more that you actually liked them.

"Rye, do you remember when I asked you if you believe in soulmates?" Jax said, very quietly, though to Rye it rang as clear and bold as bells on Sunday morning.

"Yes," she replied, her breath catching in her throat.

He took her hand from where it rested in her lap and intertwined their fingers together. Rye could have sworn that she felt every single ridge of his fingerprints, sparking across her skin all at once. There had always been something about touch between them, only now it was amplified by the incredible weight of this moment.

He clutched their tangled hands to his chest, and Rye felt the erratic, uneven, beat of his heart against his warm skin. Was he nervous? Come to think of it, Rye was quite nervous herself.

"I remember," she whispered, a plea for him to continue. The closest thing to encouragement she could give without being pushy. For once, it mattered that he tell her whatever he was going to say of his own desire. And not because of Rye's unquenchable curiosity.

He took a deep breath, "wolves have soulmates...of a kind." He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning towards her so that his forehead came to rest against her temple. "And I think you're mine. I think you're my mate."

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A/N i literally don't know what i'm doing. this is not my pride and joy btw it's more like me exercising my writing arm. i literally write this on the bus in the morning and in the evening