Elisabeth

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

'Elisa! Elisa!' Will ran towards the lake. 'Elisa!' He took a deep breath and let his heart calm down from the run. The water was blue and clear, reflecting the cloudless sky. It was surrounded by bushes and trees. The trees were large, and had large, green leaves. Pink, red, orange and yellow flowers were decorating the bushes. They were large, and he was sure not even a queen had ever seen such beautiful flowers. Even though they were large, they still looked very delicate. However, he couldn't help but notice that none of them, not even all of them together, could match Elisa when it came to beauty and delicateness. 

'Is something wrong?' Elisa questioned, fastening the last buttons of her shirt quickly. Her eyes were big and her blonde hair hung wet over her shoulders. It was long, and he just adored her fairy-like presence. She looked so innocent and vulnerable, which was one of the things that kept him from touching her all the time. Her hair was darker now that it was wet, and the shirt clung to her body because she wasn't dry yet. He blushed, as he could make out her figure way too well. He couldn't help but stare.

'No. No. Ehm. Nothing is... ehm. Wrong.' He scrathed his head, trying to divert his attention from her body and focusing on anything but her shirt. She didn't grin, she didn't chuckle. She blushed as well. Which shouldn't have come as a surprise for him, but it did. She was just as uncomfortable as he was. She was innocent, not like all those sluts that wanted him for the money. 'I just figured out a way to get off this island.' He maneged to blurt out, forcing himself to stop stuttering. What had seemed so normal and comfortable with all those other girls, was incredibly awkward and shameful with Elisa. 

Elisa gasped. 'Are you... are you serious?' She asked. 'Don't you dare mess with me William Micheals!' She added quickly. 

'Mitchell.' Elisa frowned.

'Mitchell?' She questioned, not understanding what he was telling her at all. 'Is that the official name for operation Get Back?' He chuckled.

'No, it's my last name. It's not Micheals, it's Mitchell.' He rolled his eyes. 'I actually thought you were smart after today's lessons on maths and english.' Teased Will.

'People can be fooled easily.' She said softly, looking very interested at her nails all of a sudden. He knew what she was talking about. Beau had fooled her. He had performed an act, probably not even a good one, and she fell for it. He had been playing a heart-breaking game, and she didn't notice that he was the one rolling the dice, over and over again. He balled his fists. Beau was lucky he had been able to get away. He wouldn't have survived Will. 

'Will?' She grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly. Will felt the tingles of her touch all the way till his toes. He had been daydreaming about killing Beau, forgetting she was still in front of him. 

'I. Ehm. I'm sorry.' He shook his head and she released his shoulders. He wanted to put her hands back but resisted. She lifted her eyebrows, as if to ask what he wanted to tell her. 'We can build a raft.' He said, responding to her silent question. She let out a sigh.

'I have tried, Will. Nothing can get us away.' 

'We can try again. If it won't work, you get your way and we search for other alternatives.' She noticed what he said; "search for other alternatives". And it was calming. It was good to know that he wasn't planning on staying. It gave her hope. 

'Alright. Let's do this.' She gave in. He smiled as they walked towards the house. 

~*~

'I've got this, this, and... this as well.' Elisa said, carrying large tons onto the beach. She had saved all the things that might ever be useful to her. This was the kind of situation she needed it for. She remembered the storm that took Will to the island, and pointed at one of the plastic, blue barrels. 'This one is from your storm.' He smiled at her. She was so... prepared. For everything. If he would have been her, he would not have all those barrels. He would not know all those things on the cliff nor would he have started a garden. He would have been already dead, thinking of the few days he was alone. And he was seventeen. He didn't even want to think about what he would have done when he was six. And how it would have ended.