From the Ashes

[31] Turning In

“Great win, Rome,” Sage says, smiling under his paint as he claps Roman on the back from where he sits down on a chair I pulled up for him. He chuckles, and Mazie hands me a clean towel to wipe the sweat-smeared paint from Roman’s face. I thank her as Roman and Sage talk about the match. I take of the headband, the fabric damp from the sweat on his brow, and tuck it into the back pocket of my white jean shorts.

“Unfortunately, my match will be next week, Maze and I checked the brackets.”

“All that pretty paint for nothing,” Roman croons. I bend to push his sweaty hair aside from his eyes, and dab at the running paint on his brow.

“You scared the shit out of me, I thought that huge kid was going to take your head off with your lazy dodges,” I say as I continue to clean his face. He gives a soft laugh as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me down to sit on his lap as I work. I stiffen at first, wanting to protest, but it’s definitely a lot more comfortable on my back than leaning over.

“I know what I’m doing, darlin’,” he chuckles, one arm wrapped snugly around my back to grasp my hip on the farther side, the other resting comfortably across my lap. He laces the fingers of both hands at my hip as I tell him to close his eyes so I can wipe the paint and sweat from around them.

We all start to talk about Bennen’s quick match earlier today, and we discuss what kind of warrior Sage might get next week. I use pretty much all of the previously clean towel to get most of the paint off of Roman’s face, and Mazie helps Sage with his since he won’t be fighting tonight. We all sit and talk for a while, Roman casually keeping me on his lap even after I’m finished cleaning him up. But I’m not complaining. He thoroughly impressed me with his match tonight.

“Yo, I’m being eaten alive by the mosquitos,” I say flatly, rubbing my arms and pulling my legs up slightly in Roman’s lap. He grunts, moving one hand to rub my bare legs.

“By the thermometer that is your skin, it’s getting pretty chilly tonight, too,” he chuckles. I nod vigorously.

“What time is it, anyone know?” Sage asks. Roman and I shrug, but Mazie pulls out her phone.

“11:38, gents. And lady,” Mazie gives a cheesy grin, and Sage peers at Mazie’s phone.

“I always forget mine exists here.”

“We have a booster at our cabin, you guys are welcome to come down any time and make use of it,” she giggles. Sage looks down at Roman and I.

“You’re a peach, Maize. Well, we better head back, then,” Sage says, and we all say goodbye to Mazie. I sprint to Roman’s truck, scuttling in and slamming the doors to huddle in the middle of the seat. It takes the boys a few moments to catch up, and they start making fun of my haste.

“I’m freezing cold!” I say in my defense, grabbing one arm on each of them and huddling beneath.

“Well, duh, you’re like a stick. No meat to keep you warm,” Roman says, sliding his arm out of my grasp to shift gears on the truck. He replaces it behind my back to pull me close to him on the seat.

“Shut the fuck up!” I curse, shivering. “It’s just a cool summer night!” They laugh at me, and I hunker down against Roman’s furnace-like body. We bump along down the road toward the cabins, and I help the boys check to make sure all of the paint is off of their faces before we return. Any that we just can’t scrape off looks like dirt, anyway. Mine comes off just fine.

When we get to the cabins, all of the kids have been put to bed, and only a few adults sit around a campfire, socially drinking and chatting. We’re greeted by a pair of barking dogs as we slam the truck doors and head up to the upper cabin. A sprinkling of rain causes the adults to head in just as we reach the porch.

After taking a shower in the upstairs bathroom, Roman and Sage saying that they’d go downstairs to take theirs, I sit at the vanity in my room, blow drying my hair. Upon entering my room, I had discovered with horror that the air conditioning had been turned off because of the cool evening weather, and my window was wide open. The wooden floor of my room was like ice when I had padded across it in my bare feet. Reluctantly shutting off the blow dryer, I give a shiver once the hot air is gone.

“Why is it so damn cold...” I mutter to myself as I shuffle over to my bed, clutching my elbows. The sheets are freezing at first as well, and it’s a painful 5 minutes of huddling into the tiniest ball and waiting for my cocoon to warm up. Once I’m warmed up a bit, I switch the lamp on the bedside table off. The room plunges into darkness, and I squirm deep into my covers.

I sigh as I realize I forgot to ask Roman about the... thing he’s hiding on the back of his right shoulder. He said he’d tell me later... But from the glances I saw, it looked like some kind of birthmark. He must be self-conscious about it, or something. Now that I remembered it, my curiosity is bugging the shit out of me.

Shifting under my covers, I give a grunt as I hope to remember tomorrow, and curl up against the permeating chill of the rainy night. Wishing I had more blankets, I drift in and out of sleep miserably. I only notice that I had fallen into a deeper sleep when movement on my bed wakes me up.

“What is it?” I mumble through my drowsy haze, sitting up in the cold darkness.

“It’s Roman.”