01-29-2023, 06:19 PM
Her hand closed around his palm. The fingers danced between his. Where they closed selfishly tight. Music and the memory of her swaying so slowly suddenly blazed his head. Almost like she didn’t even realize what she was doing. He could grasp her wrist and pull her free from the burden of duty and guilt of survival and into arms that would take it all away if he could. What life she lived before all this started? The family left behind. The Red Cross carried her to the needs of a country full of need. But why there? Was Sierra Leone chosen for her or did some design land her in the same part of the world that landed him? The farthest back he knew about Natalie was a fire once escaped. The facts were bullets in a file though. What did she love? What filled those icy eyes with passion and strength? He suddenly felt like he didn’t really know anything about her except that he knew everything about her. What about the song drifting their heads called her away?
Because she settled against his chest like she was home. A place where Jay sheltered in the shadows waiting above. The brush along his neck broke something free and he fell from the rafters down to where she was just to curl his head to her cheek and feel her breathing. He gripped her tight.
One night in Freetown, in the hours before the extraction mission deployed, he stared at a picture of the woman their squad was sent to retrieve. The file was short on information beyond the basics. And he remembered wondering what she was like. Fast forward and here she was. The scent of her hair pushed into his cheek. Her weight leaned into his chest. Her fingers brushed behind his collar. Light but he’d pull her closer if it was possible.
The first time he saw her, she was held tight in the hold of a Temne rebel. Any normal person would be shaking in their boots, tugging and fighting to escape. Natalie just stared defiant of control and ignoring her fear while four Legionnaires surrounded the captor, barrels aimed and ready. If they hadn’t showed up, he had no doubt now that she would have handled it herself. Probably glare him into retreat. He smirked into the cushion of her hair just to imagine it.
Moments after, fire surged his knee and in one swift motion, a full kitted Legionnare dropped like a bag of wet sand. The kid made quick work of it. Probably would grow up something fierce. Hopefully on the side of the good guys, though. If he was still alive. Surely he was still alive. A thin hope, but one he had to hold. Lots of kids weren’t. Masiaka hovered a building full of ghosts about then. Fighting men rumbling down the road to abandon them to red fates in the jungle. He’d never forget. Follow orders and leave them to it or stay and mount a last defense and die in the process. He couldn’t blame Jacques, who at the time made the hard call Jay never would have been able to make. Remembered doubting the bigger picture. Sick with guilt shoved down until it was forgotten.
So many haunts. Their ghosts followed a gray line into the horizon. Freetown felt like a lifetime ago. Never mind the life he had before. Son, farmer, marine, legionnaire, dominion. He’d lived enough for five lifetimes, and in all of them, he was called back to this one moment. There was only one place the ghosts rested.
Home.
Her.
A pleasant sort of empty followed inside. Like staring into the ocean at night. Endless and beckoning. The music was nice. Something to close your eyes, lay back in the sand and just listen. Drift with the starlight. Sink into warmth. He could see himself getting into dances, but the girl was a perk. Prom had been fun. The slow dances memorable. But unlike a gymnasium packed with kids and a radio blaring hits, he was pretty sure the symphony the musicians spun kept the music going just for the two of them. Or else the time stretched endless as that black horizon and they did in fact drift through it. A million miles from anyone. From anywhere. He didn’t think his heart could beat so slow. The body sway so light.
He only roused from the dream when she shifted. Didn’t pull away thankfully. But that wicked smile beckoned upward, full of promise to retaliate with such heat he could only hope to be its target. His heart might have stopped right then and he’d not care a single bit.
“Hey,” he mirrored. There was originally a plan to spin her out, stretch their arms to the brink of release and pull her back. Do one of those dips. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go of that connection.
“Dramatic?” This time he said it and didn’t disagree. Her sharp smile sparked a defenseless half-grin in return. Then again, he didn’t want to win this match.
“Staying out of trouble?” he smirked. In that dress, she had to be anything but.
Because she settled against his chest like she was home. A place where Jay sheltered in the shadows waiting above. The brush along his neck broke something free and he fell from the rafters down to where she was just to curl his head to her cheek and feel her breathing. He gripped her tight.
One night in Freetown, in the hours before the extraction mission deployed, he stared at a picture of the woman their squad was sent to retrieve. The file was short on information beyond the basics. And he remembered wondering what she was like. Fast forward and here she was. The scent of her hair pushed into his cheek. Her weight leaned into his chest. Her fingers brushed behind his collar. Light but he’d pull her closer if it was possible.
The first time he saw her, she was held tight in the hold of a Temne rebel. Any normal person would be shaking in their boots, tugging and fighting to escape. Natalie just stared defiant of control and ignoring her fear while four Legionnaires surrounded the captor, barrels aimed and ready. If they hadn’t showed up, he had no doubt now that she would have handled it herself. Probably glare him into retreat. He smirked into the cushion of her hair just to imagine it.
Moments after, fire surged his knee and in one swift motion, a full kitted Legionnare dropped like a bag of wet sand. The kid made quick work of it. Probably would grow up something fierce. Hopefully on the side of the good guys, though. If he was still alive. Surely he was still alive. A thin hope, but one he had to hold. Lots of kids weren’t. Masiaka hovered a building full of ghosts about then. Fighting men rumbling down the road to abandon them to red fates in the jungle. He’d never forget. Follow orders and leave them to it or stay and mount a last defense and die in the process. He couldn’t blame Jacques, who at the time made the hard call Jay never would have been able to make. Remembered doubting the bigger picture. Sick with guilt shoved down until it was forgotten.
So many haunts. Their ghosts followed a gray line into the horizon. Freetown felt like a lifetime ago. Never mind the life he had before. Son, farmer, marine, legionnaire, dominion. He’d lived enough for five lifetimes, and in all of them, he was called back to this one moment. There was only one place the ghosts rested.
Home.
Her.
A pleasant sort of empty followed inside. Like staring into the ocean at night. Endless and beckoning. The music was nice. Something to close your eyes, lay back in the sand and just listen. Drift with the starlight. Sink into warmth. He could see himself getting into dances, but the girl was a perk. Prom had been fun. The slow dances memorable. But unlike a gymnasium packed with kids and a radio blaring hits, he was pretty sure the symphony the musicians spun kept the music going just for the two of them. Or else the time stretched endless as that black horizon and they did in fact drift through it. A million miles from anyone. From anywhere. He didn’t think his heart could beat so slow. The body sway so light.
He only roused from the dream when she shifted. Didn’t pull away thankfully. But that wicked smile beckoned upward, full of promise to retaliate with such heat he could only hope to be its target. His heart might have stopped right then and he’d not care a single bit.
“Hey,” he mirrored. There was originally a plan to spin her out, stretch their arms to the brink of release and pull her back. Do one of those dips. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go of that connection.
“Dramatic?” This time he said it and didn’t disagree. Her sharp smile sparked a defenseless half-grin in return. Then again, he didn’t want to win this match.
“Staying out of trouble?” he smirked. In that dress, she had to be anything but.
Only darkness shows you the light.