Shattered Horizon

20 Liam

I woke up tangled in Bo's warmth, the possessiveness in my grip surprising even me. But then, the memory of that electrifying kiss flooded back. It had been a revelation â€" a world where the past ceased to exist, a world where all that mattered was the feel of him beside me.
Love. I thought I'd understood it, watching Liz and Henry. The way their gazes intertwined, the unspoken promises in their touch, it had seemed invincible. Now, the raw ache of her loss, mirroring the gaping hole Bo's departure had ripped in my life, clarified everything. He wasn't dead, but the pain of losing him had been just as real.
One resolution burned fiercely in my chest. I would never let anything tear him away again.
He stirred, stretching languidly. The scent of dirt and wildflowers, a reminder of yesterday's somber duty, clung to him. I reluctantly released him, stealing another kiss before he could protest. "Good morning to you too," he mumbled, a sleepy smile gracing his lips.
As I rose to get dressed, a powerful urge took hold. He reached out, pulling me back down onto the bed. Our eyes locked,a silent conversation passing between us. In that shared look, I felt a depth of understanding, a tenderness that transcended words. It was a promise, a vow spoken in hearts, not mouths.
Then, a scratching at the door shattered the intimacy. He met my gaze with a soft smile, then rose to answer the insistent whines.
Bo's voice drifted downstairs as I freshened up, a welcome distraction after the lingering ache of the previous day. Iris's warm hug when I joined them was a balm to my wounded spirit. Then, Bo mentioned the envelopes. A knot of reluctance tightened in my gut.
Joanna, so full of life one day and then...gone. Memories flickered - her quiet laughter, the way her gaze softened when she saw Bo and me together. A wave of regret washed over me. Why hadn't I appreciated those moments more?
Iris's tears were a jarring contrast to my own frozen sorrow. I retreated upstairs, putting the unopened envelope in my bag.Bo hadn't mentioned whether he'd read his...another thing we'd have to navigate in this newfound closeness.
The day passed in a blur of chores and shared memories. As night fell, a question burned in my mind. "What's next?" Bo asked, breaking the silence.
"Atlanta," Iris answered, her voice firm.
"For your families," I echoed, the words tasting hollow. Everyone went silent, "I'm sorry" I say as tears start to build up, i push them back down, and I don't feel the necklace around my neck,
"You okay?" Bo asked
"My...my necklace," I choked out the words, then fled upstairs, tearing the room apart. The familiar weight of it was an anchor I clung to, a tangible link to my past.
Bo's touch on my shoulder, his whispered plea to breathe â€" it shattered the panic but did little to ease the deeper fear. I was adrift. We rejoined Iris, and my shame-faced apology felt like another layer of weakness. Yet, her knowing look and Bo's gentle squeeze of my hand were a lifeline. Iris confessed that she'd moved the necklace to the bathroom shelf, a small act of kindness that stung as much as it soothed.
As we discussed Atlanta, a chilling realization dawned on me. It wasn't the necklace I was afraid of losing, but the part of myself it represented
"We leave tomorrow," I declared, the words hanging heavy in the air.
"Why?" Iris shot back. "Joanna said we could stay, Liam â€" it's almost winter!"
Bo echoed her concern. "She's right. Out there..."
"Doesn't matter. We can't stay. Nothing left here." My voice cracks slightly, but I fight to keep it steady. "Joanna would want us to keep moving. You guys… you need to get back to your people."
Bo's hand on my leg feels warm, almost too warm. He squeezes, the gesture more comforting than he probably realizes. "We're not leaving you once we reach Atlanta," he says, his voice low. "You know that, right?"
"I know." A flicker of a smile tugs at my lips, but it fades quickly. "I know, Bo."
The weight of the impending journey pressed down on me as we packed. Each item chosen felt like a decision, a commitment to the unknown. Bo and Iris were downstairs, the murmur of their voices a comforting contrast to the storm brewing inside me.
A month and a half. That's how long it would take to reach Atlanta on foot. My car, a distant memory, could have gotten us there in a week, maybe less. But gas? A luxury we couldn't afford in this ravaged world.
Iris's voice echoed in my mind â€" the logic of waiting for winter to pass. But could I bear the delay? The thought of my family, lost and alone, spurred me on. Safety. That's what I craved for them, for all of us.
A steaming shower chased away the road dust and the chill that clung to my bones. But the cold seeped back in as I contemplated the journey. Maybe hiding here, hunkering down, was the wiser choice.
Towel wrapped around me, I entered my room, the familiar sting of vulnerability rising as Bo walked in. Just in time. I reached for a shirt, the fabric a barrier against the sudden intimacy.
His hand stopped me. His fingers grazed the raised scars that marred my chest, a map of past battles. My muscles tensed,bracing for the pity, the curiosity I'd grown accustomed to.
Instead, his lips brushed each scar, a soft reverence in his touch. He didn't need to know their stories, only that they were a part of me. A warmth bloomed in my chest, chasing away the chill of doubt.
His touch lingered on my face, then his lips met mine. The words tumbled out, a confession whispered against my skin. "I love you, Liam."
The answer echoed back, a vow spoken in hearts, not just mouths. His arms wrapped around me, a safe haven in the storm.
"Leave the shirt off," he murmured. It was a simple request, yet it held a deeper meaning. Vulnerability, not as a burden,but as a bridge between us.
We climbed into bed, the weight of the journey momentarily forgotten. Explorations, tentative and thrilling, mapped the landscape of our bodies. There was no urgency, just a growing sense of belonging. We held on, two souls adrift clinging to each other, finding solace in the shared warmth. In that embrace, fear gave way to a fragile hope, a promise whispered in the darkness â€" we were safe, together.