British Exchange Agent

Chapter 35

I woke up to the smell of burning. It penetrated my lungs. Smothered the air. Clouded my head.

Bright light hit my eyes as they opened, causing me to wince. I went to sit up, but was met with searing pain instead. My hand burned. My arms ached. My whole body ached.

I slowly forced my muscles to move, pulling myself up into a sitting position. I bent over slightly, grasping onto my head as the world seemed to spin for a few minutes. Staying in that position until the world gradually came to a stop, I gasped in shallow breaths of air.

A truckload of information was pouring into my mind as I dwelled in the sand, my skin seemingly black with dirt. Smoke. Ash. Letting out a strangled breath, I lifted my head up gently to look around. Where was Cyrus?

My eyes drifted around me. I was underneath a tree, on the beach. The refreshing, crystal-clear sea lapped the beach gently. Melodically. The sound of water cascaded over me, and I let out a low sigh.

The only thing interrupting the harmony of nature was the coarse, brutal smell of fire. The clouds of smoke surrounding the beach a good few hundred meters down. I twisted my head to the left, and a crouched figure came into view.

They had strong, broad shoulders, hunched over slightly. Their eyes were fixated on the pile of flames down the beach, their large, rough hands clasped together.

As I cautiously stood up, making my way towards him, I noticed his taut jaw. His tense muscles. His creased forehead. Intense, black eyes.

"Cyrus?"

At the sound of my croaking voice - barely louder than a whisper - his head snapped towards me, his whole body melting in relief.

"Kayla." He choked out, his eyes fixed on mine. He jumped up, and in seconds, my body was being crushed into his. Despite the heat of my skin, I relaxed into his warm arms.

I wasn't really sure why. Maybe it was the relief of being alive. Having somebody else. Or maybe I just craved the human contact. I'd probably regret it later.

"Kayla." Cyrus breathed again, tugging me out of my thoughts. "I thought..." He took in a ragged breath, his chest rumbling against mine. "I thought you were in a coma."

I let out a juddering chuckle, the sound feeling out of place. Out of time.

"I can't die yet." I informed him, my voice croaking out as my lips tugged up slightly. "I've got too much to do."

A choked laugh escaped his chest, the sound making me my heart pound. It wasn't until I reluctantly pulled away that I realised a few tears were running down his ashen cheeks. I tilted my head, my eyes fixed on his as he stared back at me, eyes a storm of emotion. I brought up a hand to gently wipe them away.

"Why do you care so much?" I whispered, the words escaping before I could lock them in. My hand froze, and I went to draw it back, before a rough hand grasped my wrist, halting me. The hand drifted down to mine, before clasping it. I swallowed.

"I don't know." He whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't feel things...like...this."

I wrapped my fingers around his, my eyes aching with his penetrating gaze.

"We're a pair of misfits." I croaked with a wry smile.

"Yeah, we are. Society's outcasts." Cyrus said, his voice low, his lips gently whirled up. My smile grew slightly.