08-18-2018, 06:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-19-2018, 08:17 AM by Natalie Grey.)
Given the tone of the conversation she had overheard on the balcony, she doubted that were true. If Jay avoided warning his family of his imminent arrival, it was probably for reasons in the same vein as her own. It carved a small, humourless smile from her expression for sins shared. She knew nothing of how he'd ended up with the Legion, but doubted good things pushed him from the arms of his home. And it changed a man, the life he led. As much as he must love his family, it did not mean he relished the awkwardness of reunion.
The rush from the terminal had fortified her for a while, but exhaustion began it's ferocious gnaw once they left the tarmac. She half dozed a while, fighting to concentrate on her book and its familiar soothe, before sleep sank her lids low. The paperback fell loose in her lap as her breathing softened into dreams tangled like thorns, though less potent than those lured forth in the deep dark of night. She fell into a world of churned sand on an empty beach; of dozens of small footprints, their owners vanished. They will be our future, Azu proclaimed proudly.
Sickness dragged her stomach.
Sometimes when she spun round to catch his ghost the beach morphed to jungle leaves slick with blood and noises in the trees, but this time there was only a figure distant on the beach. He flickered like a mirage, broken on his knees, shifting great fistfuls of sand with clawed hands. Heel to throat in black. The deeper he dug, the deeper he sank.
She took a step forward, but it was like the lens stretched the yawning distance of a light-forsaken chasm. She took another anyway, until fingers entwined her own from behind. She knew that hand better than her own. The callouses and scars. His breath stirred the dark hair at her ear; the deep vibration of his voice a promise, as though about to speak.
So achingly real.
Real enough that it roused her.
Natalie blinked groggily as consciousness seeped back in. Overhead the intercom declared the final checks for landing soon. She frowned, a small murmur of discomfort leaving her throat as she ran a hand over her face. Her cheek pressed against Jay's shoulder, her neck stiff. Beyond, through the window, a flat tapestry of farmland replaced what had been mountainous the last time she looked.
Jensen read quietly. Jay frowned at nothing. Her limbs protested against the long hours caged as she straightened, clipping her seatbelt back on for descent.
There were no long queues at the airport, minuscule even compared to the dereliction of JFK. A few scant hours decent sleep fortified the burn of her curiosity for new surroundings. Her gaze trailed as they passed through, though there was little to see -- least of all this early in the morning. She toyed with her wallet while arrangements for the last leg of the journey were made, then excused herself to call her mother while the paperwork for the SUV hire was filled in.
The rush from the terminal had fortified her for a while, but exhaustion began it's ferocious gnaw once they left the tarmac. She half dozed a while, fighting to concentrate on her book and its familiar soothe, before sleep sank her lids low. The paperback fell loose in her lap as her breathing softened into dreams tangled like thorns, though less potent than those lured forth in the deep dark of night. She fell into a world of churned sand on an empty beach; of dozens of small footprints, their owners vanished. They will be our future, Azu proclaimed proudly.
Sickness dragged her stomach.
Sometimes when she spun round to catch his ghost the beach morphed to jungle leaves slick with blood and noises in the trees, but this time there was only a figure distant on the beach. He flickered like a mirage, broken on his knees, shifting great fistfuls of sand with clawed hands. Heel to throat in black. The deeper he dug, the deeper he sank.
She took a step forward, but it was like the lens stretched the yawning distance of a light-forsaken chasm. She took another anyway, until fingers entwined her own from behind. She knew that hand better than her own. The callouses and scars. His breath stirred the dark hair at her ear; the deep vibration of his voice a promise, as though about to speak.
So achingly real.
Real enough that it roused her.
Natalie blinked groggily as consciousness seeped back in. Overhead the intercom declared the final checks for landing soon. She frowned, a small murmur of discomfort leaving her throat as she ran a hand over her face. Her cheek pressed against Jay's shoulder, her neck stiff. Beyond, through the window, a flat tapestry of farmland replaced what had been mountainous the last time she looked.
Jensen read quietly. Jay frowned at nothing. Her limbs protested against the long hours caged as she straightened, clipping her seatbelt back on for descent.
There were no long queues at the airport, minuscule even compared to the dereliction of JFK. A few scant hours decent sleep fortified the burn of her curiosity for new surroundings. Her gaze trailed as they passed through, though there was little to see -- least of all this early in the morning. She toyed with her wallet while arrangements for the last leg of the journey were made, then excused herself to call her mother while the paperwork for the SUV hire was filled in.