THE BLAME

Longing passion

Her bellow did its part in releasing the built-up tension and agony she had been heaving along. She felt better afterward, a bit more peaceful. She had found shelter underneath a towering tree, providing her with coverage from what appeared to be a cold front. She sprawled her hoodie on the ground, sitting upon it to not sit on a wet surface.

Unable to identify whether or not it was her longing causing her to hear what she thought couldn't be through the thick forestation, she had ignored it at first. As the second call of her name came through, she decided it couldn't be her mind, as her inner voice wasn't a deep one.

She stood up carefully from her hunched over position where she had hugged her legs, picked up her hoodie, and listened with a focused ear. The same voice yelled her name once more, louder and clearer this time. She knew his voice, she could never forget it. She put her pain aside, grabbed hold onto the nearest tree branch, cleared her throat from the lack of water, and mustered her entire being into the call.

"Asher?"

"Mirah!"

Hope danced in her eyes as the tears prickled, knowing that someone had come for her. She forgot about her pain almost entirely, with Asher's calls to guide her. She'd stop now and then, deciding where he would be from where the sound came from bearing in mind of all the creatures moving and natural noises.  

She stood still for a long moment, listening. She took that moment to ask Asher where he was, and he replied shortly after with a very audible "Here!". She lunged herself from branch to branch, hugging the tree trunks for support and not caring about the extra amount of scratches she'd be getting after. She needed him, only him then and there. He had come for her.

She could finally hear the crunch of leaves under a body mass, assuming that he was nearby by then.

"Mirah!" His call was close, very close. "Here I am," she replied in a normal tone.

Asher stopped short, realizing how close she was now. He took a stride forward, leaned in all directions to try and find her. He could faintly make out a bodily shape in the distance, looking as though they're hanging onto a tree. Squinting his eyes through the mist that had already begun forming again, he waited for any movement of the shape. Nothing.

"Keep talking," he insisted, "and stay where you are. Make some movements if you can!"

She did as he asked, keeping stationary against the tree she'd be clinging onto and wavering her arm about. She soon spotted movement ascending her, a body ducking underneath large obstacles and arms holding on to support for guidance. She started to bounce lightly, only bending her knees, going frantic but never losing sight of him.

The leaves from the bushes which had been blocking his view finally allowed for an opening through which he could spot her movements. When he did, he lunged forward even quicker, swiping all the obstacles away from him. His eyes became watery, and his heart was overwhelmed; he could clearly see her cuts and bruises blossoming on her uncovered limbs and her ankle clearly injured. Nevertheless, his eyes trailed only to her beautiful face, where tears started streaming down her cheeks and her red flushed cheeks being his drive to envelop her in his arms.

"Asher," she cried with her face pressed against his chest and her arms taking hold of his torso. Gently yet longingly, he caressed her hair, combing the knots out while his chin rested on top of her head.

"You're safe now, my love," he assured her, meaning it. He'd not let anybody harm a single strand of hair on her head if she'd be with him, stay with him. She had gone still, sobbing underneath his touch when he pulled away a bit to look at her face. Skin red as roses, covered in dirt and dust, wet from salty tears and he smiled. He smiled because she is his laughter. After all, she is his reason. He had gone far too long without her in his arms, and this had overwhelmed him too much, leaving him the urge to kiss her fiercely with passion and love.

With his rough and hurt hands, his gentle soft fingertips wiped her tears away. The way his hands cupped her cheeks had calmed her down, enough for her to regain her posture and look him in the eyes. His gaze fell to her soft lips, untouched by bruises and dirt, and his own. She took notice only blindly and copied him by glancing at his lips.

He edged closer, ever longing for her, breathing heavily. He placed his forehead against hers, their lips barely touching at all. Her eyes had been closed for a while, enjoying the sense of security she feels when with him, especially held by him. He took that as his cue and permission granted to lean in further, tangling his fingers through her hair. The moment his lips touched hers, was the moment he'd never forget. As though a batch of fireworks went off, he became eager for much more. His right hand traveled along the base of her neck, down the curve of her back, pressing her closer to his chest as much as possible while his left remained behind her head.

Even though the shock of the kiss sent shivers down her spine, her arms had no trouble finding his neck and wrapping them around him. Immediately the kiss deepened, the one needing the other intimately. When they finally had to break apart for a gasp of air, a bolt of pain shot Mirah through her leg, causing her to collapse into Asher's arms.

"What's wrong?" worried filled his voice once again, still overwhelmed by a passionate kiss shared with the person he wants to kiss for the rest of his life. It took her a moment to reply, lips numb.

"I sprained my ankle," she managed, "this morning when I started walking, I accidentally fell-no wait, my foot got stuck in a ditch. Then later when I went through this thorny tunnel, I injured it a bit further by accident."

Her large bright green eyes met the honey pool brown ones of his, as she looked up at him. He kissed her once more, full on the lips, unable to resist the urge.

"What happened last night, Mirah?"

Mirah's heart could've melted right off the bat when he voiced her name, but she told him anyway as they sat down for a while in each other's arms.

"You mean to tell me that you volunteered to stay behind as a beacon," he recapped while he waved his arms around, "in the middle of the night, might I add, waiting -alone- for someone to return." Mirah nodded all the way, a stoic expression on her face, hearing it for the first time from someone else's mouth.

"I guess that sounds a bit bizarre," she mentioned.

"'Bizarre' doesn't begin to describe the situation here," he said in utter disbelief, "why would the pointer not be in the place it's supposed to? The crossroad... there was a pointer when I had gone with my group on the night walk," he continued to think aloud.

"You lot went before us," she added, "so...would someone-"

They shared the same face of confusion and betrayal, not knowing who could have been behind it all. Asher shook his head, trying to puzzle things together. Looking back to Mirah, he asked whether she was hungry or not.

"Oh! I practically forgot that I was starving!" At this exclamation, he handed her the apple he'd been carrying as well as the bottled water he had with him.

They began their journey back to camp, where proper medicals and first aiders could assist in their injuries. Mirah clambered onto Asher's back as per his insisting despite her stubborn protests. Fortunately, Asher is strong and firm where Mirah is a bit of a contrast to him.