The day became dark an yet still I could not move.

Leaning against the tree trunk, I remained, some great weight of tiredness and hopelessness anchoring me to that spot.

I felt so alone, more so than I ever did on the island. Flint had not returned to the balcony or ventured down to find me. A light had been lit in his room as darkness fell, but otherwise there was no sign of him. I glanced across towards the grave, at least now I though, we are both alone and damned. This gave me some comfort.

A creak sounded from behind me and I peered around the trunk.

Flint was stood on the porch, he swayed back and forth, drunk down to his boots. He fell as he descended the steps and I watched as he clambered back to his feet and wove a track towards the grave.

On reaching it, he slumped to his knees heavily and bowed his head.

He was unaware, or he simply had no mind of my observation of him. I strained to hear as he began to talk, but I was too far away and the words were just as a whisper.

Presently he stopped talking and kissed his hand, laying it then briefly upon the stone, before heaving himself to his feet.

I watched as he walked through the garden and into the field beyond, stumbling and swaying, yet full of determination.

I wondered at this strange behaviour, why was he heading for the river?

Suddenly his intention dawned on me.

Instantly, I was on my feet and running.

I reached the river bank but there was no sign of him. I cast aside my sword and pistol and waded into the water.

The current was slow, which was a mercy, but the river was deep.

I spotted Flint floating face down some way away from me and I swam to him urgently.

Grabbing a handful of his shirt and flipping him over, I pulled him to me, with my arm around his chest I hauled us back towards the river bank.

Furiously, I dragged him out of the water.

He lay on the grass his chest still, no sign of breath.

His face looked at peace, as though sleeping. Grabbing his shoulders I shook him hard, slamming him down against the ground.

He convulsed then, coughing up great mouthfuls of water.

Flints eyes opened slowly. Confusion etched across his face as he struggled to regain his senses, he looked up at me and blinked.

"Thomas?" he uttered softly.

An expression more full of warmth I had never seen, as the one that spread across his face. Gingerly he reached out to touch my cheek. " I have found you again."

He was delirious, hallucinating through drink and fatigue. I was caught off guard by this intimacy, frozen to the spot with the unexpectedness of it.

Flints other hand reached for the nape of my neck, guiding me forward, so that my forehead softly rested against his.

"My love." He whispered against my lips before he gently pressed his against mine.

I closed my eyes.

Such tenderness I had never felt before.

It lasted but a moment. Flints hands fell away as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

I knelt over him a long time unable to move.

What strange thing had happened?

And I had allowed it, had I gone mad?

He had viewed me as something dear, something precious. Such devotion he had held in his eyes for me.

Of course it was not I who had elicited these feelings, those moments of fondness were stolen from another.

I felt a sudden and great anger against Thomas. This man lying beside me unleashed so much misery and pain unto others, created so much havoc and destruction, he did not deserve to love or be loved by another, happiness was not his right. Not any of our rights.

The realization that jealousy was at the root of my anger terrified me.

I had to leave this place.

But where would I go?

I had nothing and no one, my old life was ruined beyond repair. There was no going back to that.

Again loneliness dug at me. I gathered my pistol and sword, then slowly I heaved Flint over my shoulder and made way back towards the house.