Anomaly; Stranded The Series (bxb)

Chapter 8: Divide

The silence between them was like a wall, thick and impenetrable. It didn't happen all at once. It crept in slowly, like the cold that seeps into your bones on a winter night—first uncomfortable, then suffocating. Neither Eli nor Jonah acknowledged it at first, both pretending that the previous night's storm hadn't happened, that the words hadn't been spoken, that nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Eli woke up that morning with his mind still spinning from Jonah's confession. I've been in love with you for years. The words replayed in his head over and over again, making his chest tighten with each echo. The weight of them was suffocating, and yet, Eli couldn't bring himself to deal with it. He couldn't even begin to process it.

So, he did what he always did when things got too real—he buried it.

By the time the sun had climbed high enough to burn off the last of the storm clouds, Eli was already knee-deep in work. The shelter was a mess, barely holding up against the elements, and if the storm last night had been any indication, they'd need something more solid. Something they could actually rely on.

It was easier to focus on that.

Jonah, on the other hand, had barely said two words. Eli had felt his presence lingering nearby, a kind of restless energy that simmered in the background, but Jonah didn't speak. He didn't offer to help, didn't even seem interested in what Eli was doing. He just... withdrew.

And maybe that was for the best.

Eli wasn't sure how to be around him right now—how to exist in this weird limbo they'd found themselves in. Every time Jonah looked at him, it was like there was something unsaid between them, some invisible line that Eli didn't know how to cross. He could feel Jonah's frustration building, could sense the way he was waiting for Eli to do or say something, but Eli had no idea what that something was.

So, they drifted.

The island felt different now.

It wasn't just the literal isolation that gnawed at Eli's insides—it was the emotional isolation. The way the space between him and Jonah had widened into a chasm so deep Eli wasn't sure how to bridge it. He could still see Jonah out of the corner of his eye, sitting by the shore with his knees pulled to his chest, staring out at the endless stretch of water. But it was like looking at someone through a fogged-up window—he was there, but distant, unreachable.

Eli focused on the task in front of him, driving a piece of wood into the ground with more force than necessary. His muscles ached from the physical labor, but the pain was welcome. It was something tangible, something he could control. Unlike the mess in his head.

He glanced up, expecting to see Jonah still sitting by the shore, but he wasn't there.

For a second, panic gripped Eli's chest, his mind racing through worst-case scenarios. What if Jonah had done something stupid? What if he'd wandered off into the jungle, angry and reckless, and something had happened to him? Eli cursed under his breath and dropped the piece of wood he was holding, scanning the shoreline until he caught sight of Jonah further down the beach, walking alone, his head bowed against the wind.

He's fine. Eli told himself, even though the worry still churned in his gut. Jonah was probably just doing what Eli had been doing—trying to figure shit out in his own way.

But that didn't make it easier. It didn't make the distance between them any less suffocating.

By midday, the sun was relentless. It beat down on Eli's back, turning the air thick and sticky. His clothes clung to his skin, damp with sweat and the humidity that seemed to hang like a permanent cloud over the island. Even the wind had died down.