Night comes like a tide, calmly seeping over everything, gently spreading itself around the world, slowly but surely.
My eyes don't close.
Morning comes like a wave, crashing down, alerting the world of its presence through gaseous light and sound, quick and vibrant.
The night was peaceful, albeit my lack of sleep. Ravi fell asleep after an hour, and the silence was all mine to savour, the stars mine to drink in. He didn't wake, not once, not to attack me or to kill me. He simply slept. Just as he had promised.
I breathe deeply.
He looked beautiful as he slept, having turned over at some point in the night to face me, the harshness and tenseness that the world had planted on his face had faded away, leaving something sweet, almost innocent.
He really was just a person. A person who didn't choose his reality. A person who couldn't control what the world threw at him. A person who slept, who dreamt.
I wonder if he dreams of the past like I do.
I can't help but see him as a tie to what the world used to be like, how us as children used to feel; safe, protected, like nothing could touch us. Meeting Ravi almost makes me feel like that's a promise. A hope. A possibility.
Every night for two years, I haven't felt safe, I've felt vulnerable. I haven't felt protected, I've felt alone. I never once felt like I was untouchable, but rather I was an open target, and my time was limited.
He doesn't look like he feels that way... but then again, looks could be awfully deceiving.
Eve used to tell me that we couldn't let the world toughen us too much, that we had to stay in touch with our emotions, otherwise we would lose them forever. She would say vulnerability wasn't a weakness, rather a strength. Looking at Ravi now, I can't help but feel like maybe she was right.
He stirs, sucking in a quick breath as the sunlight hits his eyelids. I've been watching him for the last few hours, taking in his facial features. He has this delicate beauty about him, a defined nose, and generic eyes with thick, dark eyelashes. His lips are small, but full.
He's actually... gorgeous.
His eyes shoot open. He sits up at an impressively quick speed, as he looks around frantically. It's something about constantly being on the move that I recognize all too well; you never remember where you are in the mornings.
His eyes meet mine and widen with fear.
Before they soften.
I watch the realization dawn on him as he remembers our encounter yesterday. He turns to me, and smiles lightly. "Thief." He says, odd relief in his voice.
I laugh from my position, lying in my sleeping bag.
"How did you sleep?" He asks casually as he slowly gets out of his sleeping bag.
"Fine." I lie.And for a moment, I pause. Jesus. Someone just asked me how I slept. It feels like a slap in the face from the past.
As the morning progresses, we pack up our sleeping bags and start walking again, trailing the highway through the woods. I don't leave like I said I would. He doesn't mention it. He's been eying me since we started our trek. When someone stares at you, it makes it a lot harder to stare at them. Finally, I eye him back.
"What?" I demand.
"Nothing."
"You're staring at me."
He looks at me in contemplation for a moment longer, cocking his head to the side. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"
There's no accusation in his voice, no concern, just curiosity.
I almost protest, but I don't. It's the truth, and I don't see how he could feel offended if I was scared. "That obvious?" I chuckle after a moment of hesitation.
He scoffs lightly and shakes his head.
"Hey. If you were in my situation, you probably would have done the same." I protest.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it after a moment, then gives a sideways nod of his head.
YOU ARE READING
A World Buried By Lies
Science FictionThe bombs came first, obliterating more than half the global population and reducing any remnants of society to ashes. No one knows which nation unleashed the first strike, but within a year, the entire world was embroiled in a battle for survival...