Sinners of the Sand (A Mad Max Fury Road FanFic)

💀 < 3 > 💀

At day, you can lit a fire by holding something flammable up at the sun. At night, it's freezing and you'll need time, patience and the security of being far away enough to not have the flames be seen.

I don't know who started the fire, or how for that matter, but he did a good job. The fire is crackling nicely, fed by ripped pieces of cloth of which we have a solid amount. I hide my feet in the sand, nice and cool, while letting the whole setting mesmerise me. The warmth of the flames on my face to sweep me into some sort of hypnosis. People are dancing with wild arm movements and tapping feet, around the fire. Bottle in hand and the white of mother milk on their lips. It's an endless dark night, without stars or clouds, just the full moon. And though it's always tempting to join their worry less dances, *sarcastic cough*, I stay seated on the sand right where I am.

Smirk appears from Rosa's tent, with three brown bottles in hand. Surprisingly enough, he seems to be heading over to me. His hair is unbraided and tied in a ponytail, the fire bringing a glow on his cheeks.

"Hello Sunshine", he greets, handing me one of the bottles.

"Whited?"

"Yup."

I make exaggerated barfing noises to bring over the message I won't ever drink that shit again.

"We're on the Wasteland, Bitter."

"I still have my sense of taste! Vodka is not meant to be mixed with mother milk. It makes it thick."

Smirk roles his eyes and drops the bottle in the sand next to me. "At least come and dance." It takes nothing more than a spicy look up for him to know that's not on the planning either.

The dancers have gone over on singing now. They chant both songs I know and ones I don't, all through one another into a mix of off pace screeching. Some of them are already walking with difficulty, holding their "friends" while continuing singing.

"You better join them. Before they all pass out."

"Why wouldn't they?" Smirk asks, his eyes twinkling while watching the drunks.

"We have a camp to protect."

"And a life to live."

"One I'd like to proceed after this night."

He looks back down to me, raises a bottle to his lips and takes a slug. Before raising it in the air, "We're sinners and we're saints!" I roll my eyes. "We shall live without complaints. For we were shaped as sand, we'll die. We're villains and our heads are high!" Throughout the camp chant, people start joining Smirk passionately. And they keep on bursting it out loud while dancing. Smirk moonwalks away from me, his eyes daring me to do something. Anything. Hit him in the face. Join the group. Anything else than be me and stay on the ground. So I push myself up, give him a sly smile and give him my back walking to Jordan's tent. I am pleased, with the burning sensation of Smirk's eyes on my back.

It's difficult to explain what's between me and Smirk. When he were young, me being six and him eight, he was just a smaller version of who he is now. Brown owl eyes that drew you in, a soft mocha skin, and black hair that grew like ivy. He would throw small rocks or hands of sand at my tent until I came out, all grumpy and disturbed. He would smile the brightest little kid smile, missing several teeth including one front one, and invite me to play. Even with the scarce ways of entertaining yourself around that time, Smirk would always come up with something.