As always, thank you for your support and reviews...it truly means the world! So sorry for the delay on an update. I'm such a wiener. Lmfao XD
Soundtrack: "Rococo"—Arcade Fire.
Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything.
Note: I know I said that the rating would change to M in either this chapter or the next, but that may depend on how things go. I made some changes to my outline that altered the line of events a bit - but I promise, it's coming soon. Also, I know that the whole Beast hunt and everything went slightly different in the book, but it was easier to do it this way, so I did :D
Warning: Little bit of mature content at the end, but not mature enough to be M rated.
Welp. Please enjoy ~
The Thief (Sikes)
"They seem wild but they are so tame.
They seem wild but they are so tame.
They're moving towards you with their colors all the same.
They want to own you but they don't know what game they're playing."
If there was one thing Jack Merridew hated more than losing, it was being outplayed. Perhaps that was why he disliked Ralph so; after all, the blonde seemed to win the affection of the group without even trying. Then again, it could've been because Ralph was all around prettier and more charismatic - Ralph was tall and muscular and blonde and everything that Jack always aspired to be. Ralph was the sort of boy Jack's parents would commend, followed shortly by a snarky, "Jack, you should really focus on being more like him, tall and handsome and popular..."
But Jack wasn't like Ralph. Not at all. He could sing, yes, and he always maintained fairly good grades, but he wasn't like Ralph. Jack was skinny and freckled and ugly. Only a blind man wouldn't be able to see that.
And still, Jack was thoroughly convinced that Ralph hadn't the slightest idea on how to be chief. They were on this island, liberated of nosy adults, free to do as they pleased. Jack wanted to hunt. All the boys wanted to hunt. But now Ralph was absorbed in the fire and rescue and being nice to Piggy and Louise.
None of that mattered now. They were going to have fun on this island, with or without Ralph.
Jack was sure of it.
The sunlight was a bouquet of fiery fingertips upon bleak shade of the clearing. The soft sand was dotted with slumbering bodies, some curled and crumpled, and others sprawled across the ground. Gentle snores and heavy breaths could be heard, filling the quiet air with the certain sound of sleep, a slow reminder that some civility still remained within a large portion of the group.
Tired from his exploits of the previous night, Roger lay sleeping beneath the shade of a palm, face relaxed in the gentleness of sleep. He looked less mad and more handsome in his rest; the sharp nature about his face was lost to the innocence of dreams. And his mind was spilling with said things - memories of his family, the sound of his voice against Jack's back in choir, the island sun on his back, Louise struggling against him on the wicked pallet of damp sand and rough leaves...
Unlike her peaceful hunter, Louise found sleep to be a rare pleasure, more so when her mind was disrupted with the crude images of Gracie's rotting flesh and Roger's sadistic need. She could still feel him pressed against her back, ordering her and forbidding her from going near Ralph. The sound of her voice quivering in compliance to Roger's greedy request still pounded loud and clear in her ears.
Louise couldn't sleep, and she couldn't bear to stand by the camp and sweat as her eyes flitted insistently between Ralph and Roger, Ralph and Roger, slowly contemplating her decision...
Well, it wasn't her decision, really.
Instead, she'd brought it upon herself to try to bathe. At least that way she could feel slightly less dirty and awful and sinful - that's what they did in church, didn't they? Wash away sins with the pure drop of holy water? Louise would try her best, and then maybe the shameful slime that coated her body would simply fall away like dead skin. Somehow, Louise knew that this was impossible. After all, Roger's mark still marred her tanned flesh, and as much as she attempted to scrub it away, it stayed. It was bruise impressed upon her flesh, stubbornly stuck until it faded away. He'd done it so that everyone could see it and everyone would know of her sins.
Apart from the horrendous mark, she found that her own reflection brought her great disdain. Brown curls lay weeping and matted with filth and sand, all stiff with the labor of sweat. Her skin, now imprinted with Roger's purple bite, was still blossomed in fading bruises, as well as dirt and what not. Sad eyes stared up at her from the water, begging, imploring for the quilted safety that home always offered.
The first boys were beginning to wake by the time Louise ventured back towards the clearing. A few littluns dawdled along the shoreline, poking curiously at a dead fish that washed up on the bank. They stared as she walked by, taking in the way she feverishly brushed a hand across her neck, as if she was terribly afraid of their inquisitive stares. They promptly ignored her.
Louise collapsed heavily beside a cluster of still sleeping children, allowing her eyes to pass over the clearing. The ocean breathed life into the sweet morning, usurping the jungle's craze with the soft brush of waves. Life stirred with certain apathy, as if indifferent to the gift of it. More boys woke now, skipping past the girl as if she wasn't there.
Roger still slept, Louise noticed with contempt. It was sad, really. He looked so peaceful in sleep. So utterly unlike the true beast that lay beneath him.
From across the camp, a shadow moved, intriguing Louise's gaze. Her heart slowed, and suddenly, it felt as though there was something caught in her throat. Because when her eyes fell upon Ralph, she realized all at once all the bad and beautiful things about the morning, about the island. And when he looked back at her, something in his mind blurred, and mindlessly, he lifted his lips and smiled. Louise looked away, overtaken by the guilt that swelled her chest.
Not my decision, not my decision...my life was threatened. Not my decision.
She thoughtlessly brushed her fingers past Roger's mark, feeling its burning incineration.
Not my decision. Not my decision.
Ralph saw her obvious disposition and mistook it as anger. She couldn't really still be angry about what had happened between them, could she? It was a kiss. A harmless kiss. Something even society considered trivial. He truly hated to see her so upset, and from the way she purposely avoided his gaze, he reckoned that he was the cause of it.
Sighing, he moved towards Louise, ignoring the way she seemed to flinch as he sat down beside her. She looked terrible, almost as if she hadn't slept in days. Her eyes were circled with the heavy bags of exhaustion, and her hand continuously flitted across her neck, like she was terribly ashamed of something. Frowning, Ralph spoke.
"Are you...are you still mad at me?"
Louise shook her head, but still was silent. Her lips twitched as though she was going to speak, but she caught herself and looked away, embarrassed by her hideous crime. Ralph remained oblivious.
"I wish you'd say something."
Louise chewed on her lip, torn between stoically telling Ralph to bugger off or falling into those warm arms and sobbing. Roger was asleep. How would he know any different? And if he did try to harm her, Ralph would stop him, wouldn't he? And everything would be better.
Better.
Louise still kept quiet. Ralph, as expected, grew increasingly frustrated. Girls.
"Look." He was being blunt now, tired of the constant back and forth and tedious little mind games. "I understand if you don't want to be like - like that with me, but you don't have to ignore me completely. We can still be friends-"
"Ralph!"
Ralph turned at his name, eyebrows furrowed in evident curiosity. Louise moved with him, all the while trying to ignore the guilty thud of her heart. She was swimming with regret and despair, desperately searching for some way to communicate her restricted agreement with Roger to Ralph.
I don't want to ignore you. But he'll hurt me. He'll hurt me.
He already had hurt her. Everything about this blasted island screamed ironic pain. Louise's thoughts were interrupted by the smug grin of none other than Jack Merridew.
"Morning Ralph," he said, slipping down beside the two. Louise flinched back, slightly appalled by the redhead's presence. Ralph just glared.
"What do you want? Shouldn't you be gathering your hunters?"
"Eh." Jack's icy eyes were glazed in something darker than malice, glinting with the swift glare of the sun. "A couple of the boys were talking about finding the beast."
"Not this again." Ralph brought his fingertips to his forehead, massaging with tired gentleness. "I've already told you that there is no beast."
Jack smiled, and Louise shivered. "Maybe not, but we want to make sure anyway."
"We?"
"Mhm." Jack threw a look to a pack of savage looking boys who stood waiting beside the trim of the forest. "I'll wake Roger and we'll go hunting for it - just to make sure." A devilish grin curled upon the boy's crumpled face. "Thought I'd ask you to go, unless of course, you're too scared."
Louise watched as Ralph irritably wrestled with his golden hair, pushing it back so that the dark cobalt of his eyes shone through. His jaw was set and tightened in exasperated annoyance, so obviously weary of Jack. With a small huff, he pushed himself from the ground and looked toward the group of boys.
"Go ahead and wake Roger. Let's go."
Jack smiled, his eyes finally falling upon Louise.
"If you insist." He drank her in, from the way her dark curls tumbled down across her sunburned shoulders to the slight crease between her brows. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Pitiful." And then he was off.
Louise dearly hoped that Ralph wasn't beginning to fall victim to the beast. It was a stupid, silly fear, just like vampires or fairies or werewolves...
And yet the other boys seemed so keen to prove the beast's existence.
"I saw it."
The world quivered, exhaling its final shaken breath with fearful anticipation. A shadow moved, and the light swayed with it, dimming to a dull gleam upon the crowded clearing. Children gathered in clusters around the three boys before them, whispering and murmuring with curious enticement to the story they told. Like a parent singing of fabled lands, almost. Like the creaking steps of the ancient haunted house across from their old school.
But the look in their leader's eyes was much too bright to prove fallacy. The usual tamed calmness about Ralph's face was darkened by savage excitement. Jack stood beside him, face flushed with the bittersweet thrill of earning his chief's faith. And then there was Roger, who seemed overcome with neither exhilaration nor fear, but rather a sense of bored apathy. The beast was like a game to him, and although he testified to its existence, it meant almost nothing.
From beside Louise, Piggy shifted, picking at a scratch on his wrist with flustered annoyance.
"Are you sure?"
His words rippled throughout the group, arousing such dubious offense that Jack's face turned red in blistered anger.
"Of course we're sure, Fatty. We saw it. Up on the mountain. Isn't that right, Ralph?"
"It's true," Ralph agreed quietly. "We saw it. It had dark black eyes-"
"-and its jaw unhinged-"
"-There was a gurgling noise-"
"-And teeth like a bear."
Both Ralph and Jack glanced at each other in euphoric delight, swathed in the the exultation of their story. Piggy and Louise glanced at each other, still doubtful of what their chief spoke of.
"And your positive is wasn't just some kind of animal?" Piggy questioned once more, stepping forward to their blonde leader. Louise gulped, glancing feverishly between the glint of Roger's glare to the slight furrow of Piggy's brows. She shifted uncomfortably and nodded along next to her friend, offering at least some kind of support. Ralph noticed with understanding and sighed, moving towards the two with an empathetic sort of sympathy.
"I saw it," he said, gently now. "I saw lurching forward towards us. I know it sounds like rubbish, but it was there." His eyes shone, so obviously vexed at Piggy and Louise's doubts. He pressed on. "It was there."
Piggy snorted. "That doesn't even make any sense. There's no explanation or history of beasts and monsters, just myths and legends-"
"Legends can be true!" One particularly excited boy exclaimed, earning a short accord of yeah's from his peers.
Piggy grimaced. "Legends are fabrications of the truth. There is no beast-"
"Why don't we face it?"
The clearing fell silent. Even Ralph, flushed with both confusion and ecstatic allusion, was thrown slightly with surprise. The swarm of bodies were instantly repelled from the owner of the strange words, pulsing away with steady fear. Louise watched with wide, tired eyes as the sole singer of such wisdom stepped precariously close to where Ralph and Jack stood.
Simon spoke once more. "I think we should go back up to the mountain and face it-"
"Bollocks!"
Simon's bright eyes narrowed. "If we could just go and see it, then maybe we could figure this out for sure."
"You've gone mad," Jack sneered, staring at the dark boy in repulsion. "It would mar us."
Simon seemed helpless. "What if there is a beast...but it's just inside us?
"Inside us?"
"Simon." Ralph took towards the small boy and considerately touched his shoulder. "It's far too dangerous. We can't risk it."
There was a brief moment of strangled silence, and then Simon hung his head and disappeared back into the mass of sweaty, heated bodies. Louise stared at the poor boy, wanting to speak out, but innately fearing the reaction of the crowd. And of course Jack. Jack would be ever so delighted to make a fool of her in front of the others.
Confident that a conclusion had been drawn, Ralph looked towards his peers and nodded.
"From here on out, the fire has to be our main priority. We have to be rescued." Ralph's blue eyes fell on Jack and the small cluster of hunters that gathered about him. "Jack, I want you to dedicate four hunters instead of two on alternate duties for the fire."
"Four?" Jack was aghast. "I can't afford four hunters to be fire duty. I need as many as possible for hunting-"
"Jack-"
"No." Angrily, Jack arose beside Ralph and growled, eyes fuming with rage. "You don't hunt. You don't do anything. You just stand up here and boss everyone around-"
Ralph raised his hands in an attempt to calm the redhead. "Jack, please-"
"No, Ralph." Jack's eyes were ablaze in fervent enmity. He rushed to turn to his hunters, who all sat perched on the fallen palm with poised anticipation. "He hates us. He thinks we're useless. He thinks his fire is more important than our hunting."
"I don't hate anyone," Ralph abruptly said, turning an infuriated eye to Jack. "And my fire means rescue. I want to be rescued. They want to be rescued. The only one who doesn't seem to care about rescue is you!"
Jack moved back towards Ralph and snarled. "I care about staying alive. We need meat to stay alive."
"We have other food to keep us alive-"
"We need to stay strong. We need to hunt." For a moment, the corner of Jack's mouth pulled up in complacent satisfaction, as if the desperate glint in Ralph's eyes contented him. Oh yes. To see the chief so obviously displaced made him very happy. "Just admit it Ralph. You're not a good chief."
"That's not true!" Ralph's nostrils were flared, and his once relaxed hands were clenched into strained fists. Jack reciprocated the action by thoughtlessly tugging at the corner of his knife, which lay sheathed beneath his rugged belt.
Jack made an animal-like noise and approached Ralph with fury. His fingers had begun to curl around the handle of the knife. "You don't let anyone do anything! All you care about is your stupid fire and your fucking fat friend!"
At this, Louise winced. From beside her, Piggy shivered, shamefully ducking his head so the blush wasn't as apparent. The girl wanted to speak out and say something, but there was a certain fierceness between the blonde and the redhead that dubbed it unacceptable for intervention. So, she bit her tongue and felt for Piggy's hand, threading his fingers with hers and squeezing gently. He looked at her, glasses misty with tears, and smiled. She smiled back.
Ralph's face was colored with the rage of red.
"You don't understand anything, Jack!" Ralph drew a breath, all the while meeting his foe's deadly glare. He continued to sputter. "You're irresponsible! You let the fire go out-"
"I apologized-"
"We could've been rescued!"
There was only silence. Short, heavy breaths fell from both boys. They were intoxicated with their anger, so utterly consumed by the reciprocated hatred they shared. What was once mutual respect crumbled into mutual disdain.
With a dark gaze, Jack grit his teeth and moved back from Ralph.
"I'm gonna make my own tribe," he muttered, glancing about the baffled crowd. Louder this time, he announced, "I'm making my own tribe for those of you who want to hunt. Bollocks to this! I'll be a better chief!"
The bodies trembled in stunned excitement, switching from Jack's twisted face to the slight gawk upon Ralph's lips.
Jack looked towards Ralph and grunted. "I'll be a much better chief than him! We can have fun! Whaddya say? Who agrees?"
Louise looked around as her heart hammered loud and clear against her chest. Piggy's hand sweated within hers, and already she could feel him growing anxious. Yet no one moved. Not any of the hunters said a word, not even Roger. He just stood stiff and awkward behind Jack, his face masked by the loathsome layer of paint that now flaked off.
Jack's eyes softened. He glanced about once more, desperate for a surge of agreement, but found nothing. He blinked once, as if to rid of any tears, and swallowed thickly, moving about the clearing with clumsy hesitation.
"Fine," the boy mumbled, pushing past the cluster of children. "If anyone changes their mind, I'll be towards the rock on the other side of the island."
It seemed as though only sorrow shook the redhead as he gracelessly headed down the beach, his painted face streaked with the harrowing mark of tears. With that, the smudge of red disappeared from the clearing.
Ralph broke out towards the edge of the group. "Jack!"
But his pleas went unheard. It marked the devastating end of the bitter beginning to a fire that would never truly burn out.
Roger remembered when his parents first told him that they were sending him away. They purposely forgot to specify for exactly how long Roger would have to leave for, and with this conniving tactic, they somehow coerced him into the train that took him to boarding school. He had been seven at the time. All along, he'd known that there was something deeply wrong with him. Perhaps it was because Mummy refused to take him to the doctor, even after she found the neighbor's cat dead on their porch and Roger's younger brother covered in dark bruises. Perhaps it was because Daddy liked to drink and harm and beat everything and anything out of Roger. Perhaps it was because Roger was like one of those mad people in the Bible, the ones that ran about babbling nonsense until someone cured them of their ailment.
He was never quite sure.
Before carting him off to school, his parents had given him two choices, just to make their decision seem fair. They'd offered to send him away to the school in London or, he could simply stay home with them. Those were his choices. Those were the two most logical choices any parent could give a somewhat stubborn seven-year-old boy. One could say they were reasonably just, and if it had been any other circumstance besides Roger's, he may have agreed.
School was one thing entirely. Roger hated his lessons, even when taught by a tutor locally. He despised arithmetic and grammar and all the stupid things he knew he'd never need. He only really enjoyed reading; his mother would often find him curled up in one of the kitchen cabinets, reading a book they'd explicitly said was inappropriate for him. Said books usually contained gruesome gore or worse, the act of sex. Roger couldn't see why his parents were so shocked to see him so curious about such a deed so young. After all, his father was more than obliged to cruelly strip away his innocence.
This led to the choice of staying home. As much as Roger hated school and teachers and people, he hated home more. He hated the large bookcases in the library, and he hated his room, cluttered with miscellaneous junk his mother insisted made him seem more 'normal'. He hated his brother and the old cook who always got onto him for sneaking sugar cubes before dinner. He hated it when his parents threw parties and forced him to play piano, then of course paraded him around to be pinched and cuddled and 'oh my, look how much you've grown'. He hated it all.
Especially them.
You could say that he found himself caught between Scylla and Charybdis, left to tatters amongst the willing crash of careless waves. And that same dilemma seemed to implore him now.
Roger loathed Ralph with everything he had. Ralph was the very essence of the tribe's demise, the very thing that led them spiraling backwards into Hell. He banned them of their fun and deprived them of basic freedoms, all with the nauseating consent of that pitifully repugnant Piggy. And then Louise...
Roger knew that by joining Jack, he would be leaving Louise to Ralph. Not that it particularly mattered. Roger would have her, one way or another, even if it meant stringing Blondie up by the delicate ends of his golden hair. Betraying Jack brought some semblance of emotion to Roger, and there was no way he could force Louise to join Jack without arousing dark suspicion from Ralph or Piggy. Roger was stuck, stuck between loyalty and lust, both two fiercely dangerous emotions.
Roger stared about the beach, watching as a few littluns scattered aimlessly through the tide. Jack would let him do as he pleased. Jack would let him hurt andcause pain.
Louise would be Roger's, by and by.
His urges could wait.
Without another sound, Roger slipped into the forest and ventured off to find his redheaded companion, smug in satisfaction for his choice.
Calloused hands brought the fire from the mountain to the center of the clearing. It was, after all, far too dangerous to leave the fire burning so close to the Beast, if there was a Beast. Piggy reluctantly succumbed to the belief of the thing, and Louise followed, eager for the civil fighting to cease. Since Jack's departure, everyone had been arguing; the littluns about games, Ralph and Piggy about the Beast, the choirboys about Jack, and even the twins over who helped the most in relocating the fire. The scene was amuck, the voices flailed with tired relent, and everything about anything was muddled and horrid.
An acrid veil seemed to sheathe itself amidst Louise's mind. Her thoughts were poisoned with precariously cynical thoughts; all at once, she was doubting not only the strength of the tribe, but the strength of Ralph as well. As bright and confident as the boy seemed, Jack's absence left a raw void within everyone, Louise included. Not even the brave and beautiful Ralph Adler could keep the tribe bound together.
Louise wandered down the beach, subtly slipping away from the clearing before the arguments rose once more. Dusk set upon the gruesome grey of the island, tainting the golden sand with a shadowed overcast. The waves curdled and spewed heavy, thick foam onto the shore, recoiling at the breath of the wind. Trees swayed and noises played hide and seek beneath the undergrowth of the forest, concealing the dark matter that lay within. Such a dark scene suited such a dark day, Louise thought carelessly. It was strange.
She hadn't seen Roger since noon.
Not that she cared. Better off without him, as Piggy had told her. Better off without him and that Jack, for that matter.
Still, her stomach lurched as she came dangerously close to the edge of the forest. Unconsciously, the girl had begun to wring her hands, fiddling her fingers till it looked almost spastic. She wandered closer to the green edge, watching in scrutiny. All the beasts that lurked in there...All the things that went on in there...
"Louise!"
Startled, Louise hurriedly glanced back over her shoulder, relieved to see the warm faces of Maurice and Bill. Both boys still wore warpaint and carried dull spears, but smiled at her nevertheless. She returned their kind gesture and waved back, tucking a stubborn piece of hair behind her ear as she moved towards them.
"Where're you off to?" she asked, eyeing the way each boy held the small quantity of their possessions with protective shame. Maurice took a quick glance at his blonde friend, frowning nervously. Bill was quick to stumble upon his words.
"Well we- we...We're in choir-"
"-were in choir," Maurice corrected quietly, clutching his tattered things close. "Now we're hunters."
Bill nodded. "Right. Hunters."
The low tone of Bill's voice detonated something foul within Louise. She turned her head slightly and stared at both the boys, trying fruitlessly to see beneath the paint.
"What does that mean?" she asked, inching closer. Her voice dropped, now almost a whisper, and the boys followed her quieting resonance.
"I've known Jack since I was little," Maurice muttered, shrugging helplessly. "He used to visit my house in Oxford with me in the summer."
"We've always followed Jack." Bill's blue eyes softened, but his jaw seemed to grow hard. There was something cold and detached about his expression. "And Ralph...well..."
"We don't know him like Jack." Maurice had stepped forward for his friend now in an almost desperate attempt to justify their sudden choice. "He's a good chief, but not for us. He's a good chief for...for..."
"For you," Bill said suddenly. "And, uh, Simon-"
"-and the twins-"
"-and the littluns."
Louise breathed hard, and already, she could feel the venomous sting of tears at her eyes. First Jack, then Roger, and now the last two strongest boys, aside from Ralph. That rendered Ralph's allegiance practically useless. There was hardly any brawn now, no one to lift and move things when it counted. Despite their association with the choir, Bill and Maurice were good boys. Kind boys. They'd never tried to hurt anyone, and they were always obedient to Ralph.
But that was because Jack had been obedient to Ralph. Now that his loyalty had been cut loose, his dutiful followers were quick to appease him once more.
Louise gulped. "So...you're leaving?"
Maurice cast his gaze towards the sea. "'Fraid so."
"Sorry, Lou."
"But...but..." The girl was speechless. What could she say? Betray the boy you've
known your entire life? Choose Ralph instead? She could only try to meet their sad eyes. "You're not savages," she said firmly, pressing the matter. A snort escaped Bill, and Maurice looked more than amused.
"Savages?" He seemed astounded at such a word. "Louise, it'll still be us. And you and Ralph or whoever can come see us whenever you want."
"That's right," Bill agreed from beside his friend, nodding until his blonde hair waved over his forehead.
And then, the boys were gently pushing past Louise, muttering flustered flurries of goodbyes from behind their shoulders. Louise stood in the sand quivering, consumed with guilt and hate and confusion all at once. Desertion. It hurt worse than the fire that licked at the wind with its putrid veil of smoke. Bill and Maurice disappeared into the forest, someone unwilling to believe of the true demons that were hidden within its green depths. And with them, Louise traced her footsteps back to camp, counting each print that the waves hadn't yet washed away and erased.
She found the camp to barren of any activity, and Piggy wasn't in his usual spot beneath the great palm, so she wandered along the beach, examining the island's glory with speculative inquiry. Simon said that the beast dwelled inside of them, like some sort of inner monster clawing and snarling to be released. She was suddenly reminded of the fiery feeling that unearthed itself when Ralph had touched her, or even bloody Roger...
Could it be the very same thing that Simon spoke of?
Was the beast a mere humane instinct, rogue with control and impulsive desire? Could it somberly lay hidden beneath the cleanly shaven morals of society, only to pulse with sudden sway when left to dawdle about? Was it fueled by sin or wrongdoing, as in the partaking of lust?
Louise shook her head.
Stupid thoughts. Gracie always had said that lust didn't count as a true sin anyway - it was only something to persuade young kids like themselves from making utterly stupid mistakes. But it seemed that despite all the church's hammering, Louise was drawn to the bittersweet offense nonetheless, partly because Roger forced it upon her. What did it matter? He was long gone now, absorbed with the entrails of Jack's new enticement. Louise was left by herself at Ralph's camp, which inadvertently left her alone with Ralph. This had not been Roger's intentions of course, but by abandoning Louise, he granted her freedom. For the mean time, at least.
This made Louise boil with glee. Perhaps Jack's leaving wasn't so bad after all. Sure - many of the other boys left, but now only the best and most sophisticated of the bunch were left. Best of all, there was no Roger. No Roger to watch her every step and motive around the clearing. This left room for good things, good things like Ralph and Piggy. Good things like Simon. Good things like fire.
Louise was suddenly filled to the brim with enamored strength. It was then that she noticed a faint sobbing from behind a throng of pale grey rocks. Frowning, the girl tentatively moved forward, unsure whether to dart away or progress towards the unnamed person. She foolishly assumed it to be a littlun crying over home once more, or perhaps one of the twins, but once she scaled across the great belly of the smooth, wet rock, she found it to be neither one.
Instead she found Ralph, curled up against the flat slab of rock, eyes swollen with the embittered mark of tears. He looked out towards the recessing tide, watching in faint distraction as the sea swallowed itself and spouted frothy waves - all a mere afterthought against the backdrop of the darkening sky. The descending sun shone in such a light upon the blonde's skewed features, obscuring the faint softness about his face. His fair hair fell in light waves, rustling slightly with the breeze, and his dark blue eyes were crestfallen and wide. There was something about the way he curled into himself, almost like an insecurity, that tugged at Louise's heart. An abstruse beauty lay coiled deep beneath the heart of vulnerability, an emotion that now snagged and caught at Louise's mind. It made sense now - why Roger picked her to torture. She was weak, vulnerable, susceptible.
It sickened her to think that so was Ralph, and in return for this, she was similarly drawn to him. Where Roger wanted to hurt, she wanted to help. So she clambered across the rock, knowing deep in her heart that she was disobeying her predator's demands, and slowly slid down beside the blonde. Roger would have a fit. Louise's heart warmed. She wasn't weak anymore. She wasn't vulnerable. She had a mind of her own.
Ralph noticed her presence and instantly began wiping at his eyes, fisting away the tears with feverish embarrassment. The smear of the salty stain left red marks upon his tanned cheeks, further marred by the snivels that escape his lips. Louise suppressed a mindless smile. Even Ralph had his low points. No one was immune to the island's flushed demise.
Ralph seemed annoyed that Louise had found him. He looked towards the sea
and refused her eyes, grumbling in hurt impatience when she sighed.
"What do you want?" He muttered coldly, so very vexed that she chose now not to ignore him.
Louise took in his darkened features and trembling hands and breathed softly.
"You're upset..." She paused, chewing on her lip in frustrated indignation that she had very minimal knowledge on comforting teenage boys. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Ralph took a quick glance at the girl, his heart crumbling at the saddened purse of her lips and slight furrow of her brow. "Leave me alone."
Louise hadn't spoken to him since that...that night, that very night where he'd made the oh-so stupid blunder of kissing the girl. Truth be told, he was hurt with her. It was as if she hadn't cared about him, nor of how he faired, until it suited her. Apparently, that time was now. It was her turn to be the dove to sweep down and embrace the broken. But Ralph didn't need a savior. He needed a friend. Someone he knew wouldn't turn away when he tried to reach out.
And Louise proved incapable of that.
Still, the girl pressed on.
"Ralph," she pleaded gently, her voice a mere breath on the sound of the ocean heaving the tumbling waves back and forth, back and forth. "Please - tell me what's wrong."
Ralph ignored her question and wiped at his eyes again, ridding of the last of his tears that clung to the delicate strands of his eyelashes. "Where are Maurice and Bill?"
Louise's heart fell. Maurice and Bill were the only two choirboys who Ralph seemed to truly trust. They were hardworking for the most part and usually tried their hardest to help Ralph in whatever task seemed to ail him at the time. Out of everyone, they seemed the least likely to leave him. But they had, and now Louise would have to tell him that yet more boys trusted their loyalty in Jack.
The girl drew a breath, listening to the light drum of her heart against the aching hollow of her chest.
"They - they left."
"Where?"
"To...They left to Jack."
"Oh." A shaken breath left the boy, rendering him broken and helpless against the lethally strong effect of the island. Ralph managed to swallow the sobs that cracked in his throat and forced himself to nod in pity. "Everyone's leaving."
"Simon stayed."
A stifled silence pinched its way between the two teenagers. The sound of the breathing ocean swallowed their minds, and the faint rustling from the forest behind them caused them both to shiver in reluctant fear. It was growing dark, and the lines of reality were blurring into a dull pain, like the soothing amber of alcohol on a wretched mind. It sunk in that their dwindling group was the lesser power now, and in a pent of emotion, Ralph's chest heaved with violent sobs. He broke, disregarding his pride and intrepid sense, and let the tears convulse through him. He was graceful, even in his descent, and still Louise found her heart throbbing for the helpless boy before her.
"We're never getting rescued," Ralph choked through his cries, staring out apathetically at the raging sea. "I'm never going to see my brother or my dad or my house-"
"Ralph-"
"We're going to die here because nobody cares. I don't even care. I just...I just..."
The sobs took control of him again, and the words that strayed upon his tongue were lost amongst the bitter tears. Louise's stomach fell, dark and deep within her pit, and without thinking, she reached out and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and drew him towards her. He struggled fitfully, humiliated by her pity, but she held him until her fingers pressed almost painfully into the soft flesh of his back. His head was bent towards her neck, caught in the soft curve between her shoulder and neck. His body still trembled with sobs, but now they lessened to quiet snivels. Ralph still weakly attempted to struggle away from the girl, but she was relentless in her grasp. Eventually, the blonde grew tired and surrendered to Louise's embrace, quieted by the soft thrum of her heart and sweet warmth of her flushed skin.
Oh. He had forgotten. He'd forgotten how lovely it was to be held and adored, simply enfolded by another. The pure femininity of Louise rose a soft roar within Ralph, reminding him of all the things he'd thought he'd lost. His sanity, for starters. And the simple indulgence of human affection. He'd been so submerged within the beauty of it that he hadn't noticed the soft quivering of Louise's chest. It was then that he realized she too was crying, defenseless against the tremor of the night.
They sat for some while, caught in each other, exerting silent tears. Ralph pressed his cheek into her neck, breathing in her scent, squeezing his eyes shut until he'd convinced himself that he was back in his room, plagued with homework, but too exhausted from rugby to truly care. Louise's hand found the blonde's hair, and soon, her fingers gently threaded in with the soft silk, stroking it back from his damp blue eyes.
Ralph's breath hitched, and slowly, he turned his lips towards the gentle slope of Louise's shoulder, blinking away the fragile tears that stung his eyes.
Softly, he breathed, "Everyone's leaving me."
Louise looked up at him, staring into his sad gaze with unrequited emotion, and whispered back, "I'm not."
At that moment, Ralph lifted his head from her shoulder, watching her with wide, blurry eyes. The remnants of his tears still lingered on the careful curve of his cheeks, and never before had he felt so entirely confused or mistaken about a person. Louise stared back, stripped away of her staged apathy, and all thoughts of Roger's threats disappeared with the tide of the sea. She met his gaze, and he stared back, both lost in a trance that they couldn't quite name.
Ralph reached out to her and gently rested his hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her close to him. She shifted with him until she faced the blonde, heart throbbing and flesh afire with his touch. Blue eyes swirled in thick desire, and as Ralph hesitantly leaned forward, it felt as if the entire world and all their troubles had come to a standstill.
Ralph brought his lips to Louise's and whisper a simple breath, "Louise." The warmth of his words cascaded down her spine, and then desperately, she had taken his bottom lip between hers, sucking until the boy groaned with ecstatic delight. Their mouths connected, and where Louise had tried to lead, Ralph instantly consumed her. There was an overbearing fire that flourished between them, burning them both with excruciatingly divine wonder. Ralph grunted and slipped his tongue into her mouth, touching hers with tentative eagerness. She responded with a silent moan, fervently touching the coarse material of the boy's shirt in evident annoyance.
Ralph pulled back and sat in satisfied silence as Louise crawled onto his lap, wrapping both legs around his waist so that she straddled him, and allowed her fingers to loiter on his shirt. It was already ripped and tattered - the emblem of their school was now faded in symbolic debacle. Louise met his eyes momentarily, smiling giddily when she felt his lips upon the base of her neck, enthusing her on. Excitedly, she worked at what buttons remained on his dirtied shirt, her fingers tightening around the material as his body twisted out of the thing, exposing his sun-browned, muscled chest. Her lips were on his flesh in an instant, kissing each gentle indent of his torso with adoration. He moaned beneath her, shivering in euphoric revel when she experimentally dragged her teeth across his soft skin. He tasted like the salt water of the ocean, and to her, it was as sweet as ambrosia. With the boys hands on her shoulders, she timidly allowed her tongue to linger upon his smooth muscles, devoured by the overwhelming fire that burned beneath her.
Ralph blindly felt for her back, and gently, he lifted her back up onto his lap, kissing her forehead lovingly. Slowly, he dragged his lips along her jawline, alighting her skin ablaze with lustful fervor. She held herself close to him, heart exploding into a million slivers of ecstasy when he teasingly ran his tongue across her lips. Frustrated, she kissed him with a sense of urgency, prying his mouth ajar with the soft flesh of her own lips. He graciously complied, all the while gingerly rubbing smooth circles on her shoulders, as if rationing himself with his desires. A strangled groan escaped her throat, and then, his lips were back on her neck, sucking and licking at a particularly sensitive spot. His searing kiss brought her to elation, and if it hadn't have been for the startled way the blonde suddenly pulled back, she would've had a mind to ask for more.
Louise sat on Ralph's lap, body pressed up against the warmth of his bare, burning chest. There was a faintly odd look in the boy's eyes, and only when he scraped a delicate finger along the curve of her neck did Louise realize why.
Roger's mark. It was still there, swollen and purple from where his own lips had bitten the soft flesh of her neck. Ralph seemed confused, having found Louise already marked, and stared in contemplation at the thing.
Louise panicked.
"W-what..." Ralph's eyes skewed, as if he was buried deep in confusion. "Is there someone...else?"
"No!" Louise didn't truly understand why it would matter if there was someone else. Ralph hadn't truly made any course of action to make her his, anyhow. Unless he already assumed that simply was the way things went.
He was honestly mistaken.
Louise still felt the urgency to explain. "I - no - not intentionally."
"Intentionally?"
"It...it's Roger." At this, her voice softened, dampened by the weakness of her claim. She forced herself to cast her gaze else where so she wouldn't have to face the shame fuming in the boy's blue eyes. After a silent breath, she continued. "H-he didn't leave me alone after you told him not to...and...he...oh."
Louise was prepared to relinquish her testimony and leave, having already doused whatever flamed curdled between her and Ralph, but the blonde seemed to think otherwise. As she turned to slip from his lap, he caught her arm, grasping it with protective fierceness. The blue in his eyes had dissolved into a darkness shadowed by the tint of envy and outrage, and all at once, the intolerable belligerence of Louise's tale sent a fire soaring within him.
Ralph's tone was deadly flat when he murmured, "Louise."
The girl winced, aware of the rage in the boy's turn - not at her, of course, but at Jack's crew in general. She knew that it was not the time to disobey her leader.
So she didn't.
"Ralph," she said softly, grazing the tips of her fingers along the side of his face. His eyes abated in ire. "H-he made me promise not to talk to you."
The blonde was silent and still under her touch, coldly dissipated by the blunt fact of his ignorance. Louise mistook it for anger.
"Ralph, please," she pleaded, softly taking his head with both of her hands. She lifted his face towards her so that their lips were a breath apart, and gently, she stroked back the blonde strands of hair that had fallen into his dark eyes. "-t-that's why I couldn't speak to you this morning. I-I-he threatened me."
Ralph's eyes seemed dead. "Louise."
Her heart melted. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Louise."
There was an oddly vehement glint in Ralph's eyes. Louise felt the weight of his arms pulling her close. Impulsively, she collapsed into him, soothed by the throbbing pulse beneath his chest. He held her tight now, as if the slightest movement would result in her breakage. It was then Louise realized how fiercely passionate her companion truly was.
"It's my fault," he whispered, resting his forehead against her. She blinked and shifted to accommodate this new position, flushed with relief.
Louise found his dark blue eyes and tilted her head. "No, it's not-"
"I should've kept a better eye on them - on you, for that matter." A sigh fell from his lips. "Piggy warned me."
"You did all that you could." The girl paused, and seeing Ralph's doubt, moved into to press her lips against his chin. He hardly suppressed a groan and pulled her closer, clashing their chests with that same unadulterated flame.
Ralph nipped at the soft flesh of her ear as she leaned into him. The flowering within her pit was arising with more viciousness than ever before, slowly leaking into the pool that gathered in heart. Their lips touched once more, and his hands were pressed up against her stomach, slowly but surely drawing delicate patterns up the length of her torso. She made a small noise of delight, and he broke their sweet kiss to finish his work upon her throat. At this slight touch, Louise threw her head back, blinking stupidly up at the dark sky, dotted with shimmering stars. He suckled and kissed, and certainly was not shy about using his teeth, and once his mouth's attack on her skin was finished, a bruise similar to that of Roger's was left. Another mark of sin. Louise felt lust practically radiating from the mark, but still, it made her sickly satisfied to know that Ralph's mark encompassed her throat. And even so, she'd been willing with him.
Unlike Roger.
Ralph gently pulled her head back close, breathing hard and with little grace. He met her swollen, abused lips once more, feeling himself slip away at her sweet taste. Her fingers threaded through his hair, touching the soft silk with softened adoration. When their lips broke and theirs eyes settled on one another, a dark warmth was left flickering between the two.
Ralph softly kissed the tip of her nose and squeezed his eyes shut, enthralled in the wonder of Louise.
"Don't - don't worry about him." His voice was strangely faint, but nonetheless ferocious in fierce possessiveness. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Louise's hand was on his chest, and already, she could feel his thudding heart from beneath her. His heart. Throbbing with life. Beating for her.
Louise looked up at him and smiled, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly and genuinely content. "I know."
A/N: Forgive my concision issues.
My goodness.
I don't even know what I'm doing.
Review? (: (happy easter to those of you who celebrate it:D)
