Wow, That Sucks

15. Acceptance: the action of consenting to receive something offered.

Hot. I was hot. Burning, boiling, scorching. All around me for as far as the eye could see, a desert stretched. The dunes rolled and roiled in the warm breeze. Above me, the sun beat down, staring like a disapproving guardian. I had half the mind to tell it to fuck off.

I had nothing with me, not even clothing. My skin was already peeling from a sunburn, and I had to squint constantly to see where I was going. Not that it mattered, anyway. Sand burned the bottoms of my feet, and I sank with every step. The air scattered sand, and the heat and granules nearly choked me with every breath.

As I stumbled along, I found refuge in the shadow of a particularly large dune. The reprieve from the sun was heavenly, but I had to keep going. I knew not where I was headed, but I knew I could not stop.

For hours and hours on end, I climbed and slid on the sand. There were no other signs of civilization around me and no landmarks. I couldn't even tell how far I'd gone. The only way I knew I hadn't gotten turned around was the trail I was leaving behind me.

The sun was becoming increasingly unbearable, and right when I was sure I was going to combust, a glimmer appeared on the horizon. I blinked several times and rubbed sand out of my eyes, not willing to believe what I thought I was seeing. As I got closer, I realized my eyes weren't playing tricks on me after all: an oasis was ahead.

In an instant, my energy seemed to return to me. My leg muscles ached as I ran to the small paradise in my sight, but I did not slow down. My salvation was ahead if I could only reach it.

I collapsed on the edge of the pool of crystal clear, cool water and cupped my trembling hands in it to drink. The liquid restored my life to me as I drank, and I hadn't felt so alive in... How long had it been since I was turned?

It was cliche, but around the pool was a tree and several small shrubs. Fruits burst from them, and I greedily plucked them and ate the soft flesh inside the rinds. Mangoes, oranges, papayas, pomegranates, bananas, and cracked-open coconuts were there waiting for me to eat of them, and I did so without reservation.

My fingers were stained from the juice of a pomegranate as I dug the small seeds out of it when I felt a presence behind me. It wasn't a malicious or harmful one, but I became sad nevertheless. Biting my lip, I turned around and faced my hope and fear.

Marco stood with one foot in the water and one on the bank, a hand extended to me. Just like me, he wasn't wearing anything, but his skin wasn't burned like mine. He was smiling as if we were still friends, and I settled my fingers in his. His palm was strong, and his fingers were sure as he pulled me to my feet. His nose grazed my jaw, and I tipped my head back, reveling in the feeling. I could feel his eyelashes as they brushed against my neck, and I ran my hands up his arms.

"Jean," he whispered against my collarbone, and I shivered despite the stifling air. "We're okay here. Nobody can hurt us."

A sob I had no idea I was holding, escaped my lips, and he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. "I missed you, Marco," I cried. "I missed you so fucking much. I want you to talk to me again, and I wish you didn't hate me, and I want you to see me as me again."

His hands trailed up and down my back soothingly. "It's okay," he murmured. "I miss you too, baby, and I wish things were different as well."

As soon as he used that pet name, I gripped his biceps and pulled back. His brows were upturned in the middle, so I used my thumb to smooth them out again. "Why do you hate me so much?"

He bit his lip. "It's so complicated, Jean. I wish you could understand."

"Then why don't you just explain it to me instead of confusing me even more?"