Phoenix Fire: From Witin the Flames

Conner Clark

He closes the door with his foot, his hands over my mouth stopping me from screaming, and an arm around my waist, stopping me from moving. He leans in close to my ears and whispers so quiet so quite so quite, I felt I could trust him... but I don’t.

“Shh, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you... I’m gonna remove my hand just... don’t scream, OK?” he removes his hand from my mouth and his arm from around my waist. I stumble forward, away from him and press myself against the wall opposite him, he flicks on the light... Conner! And for the first time I take in all of his... appearance.

He is tall, about 6 foot 1; with a medium strong build; fire red hair... literally, his hair could be the flame that snakes up my arms. His green stone eyes on fire, burning with something I could not identify. Strong jaw, high cheek bones, broad shoulders, tan completion... he was gorgeous dangerous. He wore the enemies uniform... he was Warner’s soldier.

Heart pounding, breathing fast, and a need to run... but a need to stay... he reaches forward, my eyes widen with fear; I turn my head to the side, squeezing my eyes shut. I hear the shower door open, hot water pouring out at full blast; the steam swallowing us up, fogging the glass of the mirrors as I open my eyes. I look back to Conner, he was still blocking the door... the only way out, only way out, way out... but he was still a good distance away that allowed me to give him some respect for.

The hiss of the shower bounces off the wall echoing in the small space, until the sound of water covers our breathing and my elaborate panting of fear. I had come in for a shower; he must be trying to keep up appearances. My body shivers from the steam, water or moisture seems to be the only thing that can make me cold. I look into the guard’s eyes, so beautiful, so strong, so green, so magnificent... so familiar...

I know him I know him I know him! I remember him... it is him! But does he remember me... or... himself? I stare into those fiery green eyes of his, like I had done so many times before; he stares into my own strange coloured eyes. I push away from the wall, timid but strong, curious but worried, wondering if it was really him, if he remembered. He did not move as I circled him examining him then circled back to his front to stare into those emeralds on fire, again.

“831” he whispers and tears spring into my eyes. He remembers he remembers he remembers! My bottom lip quivers, I bite it, but it slips free from my teeth. I clench my teeth together, my lips parting a bit. My nose tingled and my hands tremble, I clench them into fists to try to stop them from shaking.

Tears began slipping from my eyes and scale down my cheeks, making their escape after being trapped for so long. He reaches out pausing only for a second as if to check it was okay, I didn’t move, I did not try to stop him, he proceeds wiping my cheek clean of the tears and rubs my cheek with his thumb, a small smile on his face.

 I take a careful step forward and he drops his hand back to his side as I reach out to touch him, 1, 2 palms on his chest. I had to check, I had to check he was real, that I was not imaging him, that I wasn’t hallucinating anymore... He flinches, from pain.... I think.

No, he was real, he was here, I wasn’t imagining him anymore; I could feel the fabric of his uniform clinging to his muscular body, his warm body. He was so real. I’m not crazy not crazy not crazy not crazy anymore. He was real, so real so real, I could feel him beneath my fingers. I never thought I wanted something as so much as I wanted him.