Fool's Gold // Illinois (ahwm) x OC ✔️

8. Flames of the Past

The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the deserted island. Illinois and I found ourselves stranded, surrounded by the musical sounds of waves crashing against the shore. The air was filled with the salty tang of the sea, and a gentle breeze rustled through the palm leaves.

As the daylight faded, the stars emerged one by one, twinkling overhead, untouched by the events that had unfolded earlier.  We began collecting driftwood scattered along the beach to create a makeshift bonfire, the sand beneath my fingers felt cool and slightly damp. Illinois worked alongside me in silence, the crackling of the dry branches breaking the quiet of the evening.

Once the bonfire was ablaze, its warm glow danced against the darkening sky. The flames flickered and cast shadows on the sand, creating a comforting circle of light in the growing darkness. The sizzle of the fire echoed with the distant waves, creating a soothing symphony.

As I prodded the flames with a stick, attempting to coax the fire into embracing the unlit wooden pieces, Illinois joined in by bringing more fuel for later, placing it within arm's reach. In my crouched position, I found myself fixated on the dancing flames, their mesmerizing swirls captivating my attention and letting my mind wander.

The silence between Illinois and me hung awkwardly, with sporadic comments about the weather or the progress of the fire, and occasionally interrupted by quiet sighs. I try to ignore it all, eyes slowly blinking at the dazzling fire.

Honesty held a sacred place in my heart. While Illinois might not be intimately acquainted with that facet of my character, my inclination toward isolation had deep roots. It all traced back to a pivotal mistake in placing my trust in someone during my early days as a thief for hire.

Initially, she had appeared nice and trustworthy, but minor lies turned into bigger ones. Before long, I found myself trapped beneath the crumbling debris of a lost Mayan city, betrayed and left behind as she ran with the stolen gold. The swirling flames rekindled memories of her fiery orange hair and the heat reminded me of my searing anger that accompanied the realization of falling prey to her deceit, me being a seemingly reliable partner...until no longer needed, tolerable.

While I had cautiously extended trust to Illinois, the lingering fear, that concealed truth, loomed in the background, stirring old anxieties and memories I had hoped to bury and whatever happened before he met me has made me wary, not wanting to fall for it again.

When Illinois directed those words at me – "You could at least say something to the man who saved your life today, you know?" – I didn't take it lightly. Defensive, despite the situation not warranting such a reaction, I retorted, "You could go and follow Lorenzo and leave me behind; it wouldn't be hard for the likes of you anyway," muttering as I rose from my position.

Illinois crossed his arms over his chest, his beige blouse slightly unbuttoned. He wasn't standing too far away and I was determined to meet his gaze eye to eye and project an air of confidence despite my inner turmoil, I straightened my posture. "Likes of me?" he repeated, a scoff accompanying the question.

Silent, I maintained my stance, feeling the subtle sheen of sweat on my palms but choosing to ignore it. Illinois slowly approached, frustration illuminated on his face by the amber glow of the fire. "At least I have a goal for what I'm doing," he asserted, his voice laced with irritation. "I studied this because of my father. You're just a two-bit thief risking it all for a piece of treasure because you have nothing better to do," he huffed, his face hovering close enough for a confrontation, the rim of his hat nearly grazing the top of my forehead. The tension crackled between us, fueled by the dancing flames

I attempted to steady my breathing, but irritation festered within me at his belittling words. The surroundings seemed to blur as my eyes darted between his, grappling with disbelief over his presumptuous statements. "You don't know me," I uttered in a hushed voice, opting not to raise my tone as I tightly clenched my fists at my sides.