Chapter Three – Fires and Skylight

Peter picked her up and carried her. It was at least twenty minutes before he placed her next to a large tree.

"You're far away now," he said as he looked down at her. She had fallen asleep. The crying had worn her out.

Stars soon began to spring up in the sky and before long the only light around was the stars and a fire that Peter had taken time to light up. Clare stirred as the wind blew softly against her white skin. She squeezed her eyes together and slowly opened them. The light of the fire hit her first. She noticed a blanket had been put over her as well as Peter's jacket being used a pillow. Her hands pulled herself upright. She lifted them up to her face. The paint had gone.

"I cleaned them for you. Thought it would've been a nice thing to do," said Peter as he looked over at her.

"Yeah, it was a nice thing to do. Thanks," Clare replied. She stood up and limped her way over to the fire.

"Dead leg?"

"Oo yes," she answered as she placed herself down next to him, "whatcha cooking?"

" Hmm...food," he answered sarcastically and nudging her slightly. She gave a small giggle and a smile, "you look nice when you smile," he winked back.

"Thanks...is there enough for both of us?"

"More than enough actually, so you better eat it all up!"

They did not talk for a while, only taking glances at each other every now and again, until they were both led on a blanket staring at the stars.

"You okay Clare?"

"As okay as I can be."

"Yeah but concern-"

"Please Peter. I don't wanna talk bout it right now," she gave him a hard look and he knew then, not to ask any more of it.

"...That star. Is an awesome star..."

"What? How can a star be awesome? It's a star!"

"O I am sorry Miss Claire but it's not just a star to me,"

"What is it then?"

"It's...a star,"

"Ha see! Just a star! So nerr," she poked him in the side.

"O and there's need for that," he asked poking her back. She giggled and poked him. He smiled back and moved his hands to her sides and began to tickle her. She fell back in laughter, "stop it! Stop it Peter! That's not funny!"

"Sounds like it is funny," he replied. He climbed on top of her and carried on. She soon got the strength to push him over and she sat on top of him. With the rest of her strength she pulled his hands away from her sides and pulled them above him. He gave up and they both giggled.

The giggles soon went away. They were there. She on him, him not seeming to care. She let go of his hands and let him place them on her side and back. He pulled her in and she placed his lips on top of his. It happened several times, each kiss getting deeper and longer. His hands moved from her neck and slid off her jacket. Her hands flowed to his blue crinkled shirt. Each white button being pulled off slowly.

Her shirt soon hit the floor and their hands in each other's jeans.

"Grief can make you do things you'd never think would happen," whispered Claire, "and I don't regret it one bit."