Note, May 31, 2012: Apparently, Fanfiction has been on a deleting spree for stories with explicit sexual material. My story, 'Something Real,' is gone because of this petty rule. So, to save 'Love Found' from eradication, I heavily edited this chapter. Meaning, there's pretty much no hot sex, just implied hot sex. Sucks for my readers, but it is what it is. I still have a copy of the original lemon scene, though, so if any of you are interested in reading it just message me or something. Ta ta, Fanfiction, and kindly go screw yourselves. Pun intended.

You trick your lovers that you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner, but your innocence is mine
Please me, show me how it's done
Tease me, you are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

"Undisclosed Desires" – Muse

Chapter 10: Sacred

Julia

Three days in Portland pass like a weary sigh.

Among the city's eclectic magicians, I feel wonderfully invisible, just another drifter able to vanish at a whim into whirlpools of people.

But I can't keep hiding.

Today I bid farewell to Portland and its modern shadows in exchange for the alluring forests of Mount Hood, one of Oregon's dormant volcanoes. The locals say the camping grounds are beautiful, the creeks and the woods pristine, as are the hot springs, though marauding tourists are known to cavort in the same areas—nothing I can't handle. I prefer things untamed anyway.

The camping grounds I choose sit next to a creek and small waterfall cradled by smooth, gray rock and moss-painted trees. It makes the place a lot colder, but I feel safer with rushing water nearby. The belief is that evil spirits don't like water. Water is sacred after all, a medium between worlds, and is purer when in motion. It's what Ya'atsos and Michelle always said when it rained, or when we happened upon hidden streams in our desert valleys; I'm not about to doubt them now.

Using my backpack as a pillow, I pull my sweatshirt hood over my head and wrap the Navajo blanket closer around me. The forest is dark now, but the crackle of the fire I'd built and the nearby torrents of water instill peace. I stare into the fire, watching the orange and gold-white flames tango and tangle into one another, spitting sparks and cloudy fingers of smoke, like long hair in a vicious wind.

Gabriel and our friends sat around a fire like this one once, under a star-pierced desert sky huddled in our sheep's wool blankets, like storybook Indians weaving tapestries with our tongues. All we had to do to complete the stereotype was dance around the fire naked and swap war paint. Gabe and his cousins had wanted to for laughs, but I made them shut up and listen to my stories. Aunt Cora taught me well the art of oral storytelling; Gabe clutched at his blankets in fear every time I leaped out at him as a conniving skinwalker or bloodthirsty witch, as coyote with treacherous riddles.

I think about my best friend then. Christie's infectious laughter and radiant smile fills my mind, comforting me. I wonder how she's doing. I wonder if she thinks about me too, the little nerd too interested in art and books to dance with boys in high school. I wish she were here now so I could tell her about Hwoarang. Christie, my beautiful friend, I wish you were here to tell me I'm strong.

Those memories, those times taken for granted, still haunt my heart.

Night has a way of pulling forth all things you'd thought you'd forgotten or discarded

"Once, during a thunderstorm…" I whisper to nothing in particular.

To the fire, maybe, to the moon and her silver belly, to myself in my woolen nest, to the night demons and lost love spirits.

"…when lightning turned the world white…"

My own story turned fable and folktale overnight.

"…there was a crane who befriended a wolf."

The fire chuckles in response. The night air offers silence. I feel a breeze ruffle my hair, smooth over my cheek, vanish. I imagine its Gabriel come by for a midnight tale, just like old times.

"Wolf and Crane are natural enemies, so at first Crane was afraid of the Wolf. At any moment he could eat her. He wasn't Coyote, the trickster, but he looked a bit like Coyote, and she knew of Coyote's ways."

I don't know how long I told into nothing. Perhaps it isn't wise to speak to no one in the dark, as it can invite bad things in the night. Someone, something, is always listening. But I am beyond superstition. I have already invited the worst evil upon me after all, and sooner or later he will find me.

"…But then Crane fell in love with Wolf. It was unnatural, this way of feeling, and Crane thought Wolf loved her back. But he turned his teeth on her…"

In the distance, I hear the low hum of a motor approaching the camping grounds, probably nearby hikers returning from the hot springs.

"Though Crane should have known better than to fall in love with a predator, Mother Earth and her mate, Father Sky, took pity on her. They turned her white feathers black, marking her as a reminder to never make the same mistake. Instead of punishing her, they allowed her to keep her wings so she could fly away and start anew."

The breeze softens, coaxes the fire to burn brighter.

"Crane left Wolf and hoped she would never see him again. But the truth was, she missed her Wolf, and wished she could follow him."

The sound of rustling leaves and breaking twigs makes me halt my storytelling. Fear grips my body like a vice. Perhaps it's just a camper who's lost their way. But the sounds—the footsteps—become louder, more purposeful. Rising quickly from my makeshift bed, I reach for the buffalo knife in my boot, my breathing coming in rapid bursts. Standing to full height, I unsheathe my knife and find Alexander's pouch of earth in my pocket.

I see a flash of red.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

Hwoarang

"Hey."

For the first time, I see unbridled emotions zigzag across Julia's face, the firelight contorting her expression into a haunting mask of rage, sorrow, bewilderment, pain…

"I found you," I utter when she continues to stare, her buffalo knife pointed at my chest.

When she still doesn't respond, I move slowly toward her, my hand reaching for the knife.

"Julia—"

Suddenly, as if snapping back to her senses, the Native woman swings the knife, carving a crescent moon into my forearm.

"Damn it!" I curse, recoiling.

"Stay away from me," Julia hisses, brandishing the blade once more.

"Okay, okay. I deserved that," I relent, clutching at my bleeding arm. "But let's talk, okay? Let's put the knife down and talk."

"About how you lied to me and deserted me?"

Julia lunges again, but I grab her arm this time, flinging the knife from her hands. But Julia's prepared. Pivoting in my grip, she seizes my wrist and twists, loosening my hold on her. In another lightning fast movement, she elbows me in the gut, sweeps my legs out from under me, then straddles my back once I hit the ground, forcing my face into dirt.

"I thought I told you," she snarls, "to stay away from me."

Coughing, I manage to utter, "I. Can't. Not anymore."

"How sweet. You wanna kiss and make up?"

"Yes."

"Bullshit."

"Just hear me out. Please?"

'Please'? I haven't said that in a long time.

"How the hell did you find me, anyway? You've been following me, haven't you?"

"Yes, okay! I followed you, but only 'cause Jin told me he was coming for you!"

I don't dare tell her I would have gone after her either way.

After what seems like eons, my neck cramping and mouth and nose filled with dirt, Julia lets me up.

"You saw Jin?" she asks, incredulous.

"Yeah," I reply, wiping dirt off my face. "But I'm not telling you anything else until you hear me out."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"We have to talk about us, Julia."

"Well according to you, there never was an 'us.'"

"I was lying! I was—God, I was afraid, okay?"

"Then what's the truth, Hwoarang? You tell me what I should believe, because apparently I've been wrong this whole time."

"Truth is—the truth is—"

Fuck. Fuck. Just say it.

"—I'm in love with you. I've always been in love with you."

Wait for the elbow in the face…none?

"Ican'tstopthinkingaboutyou,andI'msorryIeverleft."

I nearly stutter over the confession like a prepubescent teenager asking for a girl's phone number. But I ignore the look of disdain on Julia's face and plow on.

"I know you don't believe me. But I care about you more than anything."

"You know what—"

"No just listen. Give me a chance!"

"I did."

The pain in Julia's eyes betrays the hatred she tries to exude—but she's a stubborn one. Even if she still wants me, she's perfectly capable of ditching me without so much as a glance. She's already done it once.

Christ, this is definitely my last chance.

"I know," I murmur, biting my lip. "I'm an asshole. I'm a coward. But I'm like you too, okay? No, really, I am. Don't give me that look. I'm fucking angry and bitter, and no matter how different you think you are from me, you're right, but you're wrong too, Julia. I understand you more than you know. No, no, hear me out, okay? We were both screwed over by people we love, but this time I did you believe it or not, it's killing me."

"Hwoarang—"

"You're the best thing that happened to me. And what I'm trying to say is…I'm trying to say I'm sorry. And..."

Just say it. "...I love you. Even if you don't take me back, I can't leave now. I'm not ever leaving again."

The ensuing silence is palpable. Did I just fuck everything up again? Or is she…can she possibly…will we…?

From across the fire I await Julia's reply, her face stony.

Finally: "That was the best lie I've ever heard."

Shutting my eyes, I clutch at my hair to keep the anger in check.

"Damn it, Julia, what will it take to make you believe me!" I shout.

"Please leave."

"Look, I'm not Jin, okay? I made mistakes, but I'm here now. I came back, because I-fuck, because I need you. Please. Believe me."

"No," she retorts, but her voice cracks. "I can't, not again."

"You can't or you won't?"

"Just go, Hwoarang."

"No."

"Go!" she exclaims, but her icy mask cracks, melts, as her shrill demand collapses into a sob.

At first her crying is quiet, controlled, but escalates to heart-wrenching, shoulder-wracking weeping, just like when we first kissed in that Montana clearing. Sidestepping the fire, I'm at her side in an instant and take her mouth in mine. She protests with a shove and strings of curse words, but I persist; seizing her before she can flee, I press Julia against me and kiss her again, gentler this time, but insistent. Still she fights me, and still I hold her tighter. But when my mouth abandons her lips for the tender curve of her neck, Julia moans, momentarily forgetting that she's supposed to be struggling for her freedom.

"Hwoarang," she whimpers in a last resistance. "No. You hurt me."

"I know, and I'm sorry," I reply before kissing her again. "But now I'm going to make you feel good—if you let me."

Pausing, I wait for her to retaliate, but the Navajo woman remains still. Once again, I kiss those tears. When her sobbing abates, I loosen my hold and allow Julia to embrace me back. She responds carefully at first, peppering my mouth and cheeks with dainty, uncertain kisses, so I slow my pace to match hers, responding to her affection with equal gentility.

Only when I pull off my shirt and begin to tug at hers does Julia hesitate.

"Um, I…" she begins. "I haven't exactly done this before."

I can't help but get turned on by that. So Jin missed out, eh? Better make it worth remembering then.

"It's okay," I whisper, holding her close. "Just let me do everything. You tell me what feels nice."

"Wait—"

But I've already kissed her again, silencing every protest until she moans beneath my mouth. This time Julia removes her shirt herself, her breathing quickening. I move to her breasts then, undoing the bra with ease so I can taste them. When her knees buckle slightly, I catch her about the waist and lower her onto the blanket. As she recovers from my kisses, I undo her jeans and, too impatient to fully remove them, reach between her legs to the hot flesh hidden there. Gasping, Julia stiffens, squirms, but clamps her yet jeaned thighs about my hands. The look of pure ecstasy on her face almost drives me over the edge.

That's right, Jules. Surrender.

"For once, Julia," I say, breathless, "Let go."

You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you.

Without a word, she pulls me down atop her.

Waking up a few hours before she does, I take the rare opportunity to watch her in repose. To my amusement, Julia sleeps like the dead. I really worked her, the poor girl—not that I regret it or anything. The memory of last night is enough to make me hard again. But instead of rousing her for round two—or three, or ten—I fumble for my clothes and head for the waterfall to wash up.

Like Julia, the sun's barely awake. A few shy rays peak up over the trees, spattering leaves and creek bed with red and gold kernels of light. The water is like a slap in the face though, and does its job of waking me up. Just as I finish pulling my shirt over my head, I see something that makes my blood turn as icy as that waterfall.

Barely twenty feet away, on the other side of the rocky creek, stands a coyote. The only reason I know it's a coyote is because it's exactly like the one in my nightmare. With its hackles raised and fangs bared, spit foaming from its jaws, the coyote stares me down as if it knows exactly who I am. It growls low in its throat, a look of murder in narrowed eyes, and I know that in one leap it can have me by the neck.

Oddly, however, the coyote doesn't dare enter the water, let alone allow the misty spray of thundering waterfall to sprinkle his coat. He doesn't even try to jump across. But, I don't linger to discover why the predator abhors water. I can already feel my heart beating a frenzy in my chest, as if fearful that my nightmare will finally realize itself.

Rushing back to Julia, my hair still a matted, wet mess, I rouse her as gently as I can.

"Julia, love," I murmur, "It's time to wake up. Time to go."

It's a good thing she can read me like a book, because in seconds she's awake.

"What's wrong?" she asks groggily, searching for her clothes.

"Um…"

"Hwoarang."

That look again. What a way to start our reunion.

"Get dressed first," I reply, handing Julia her clothing.

As she dresses, I help pack her things, then kick dirt into the fire pit to make sure it stays out. My eyes keep darting to the creek, even though the coyote is gone, and then to the woods around us, to the hills and rocks that border the camping grounds. I thought things were going to be all right. Wait, who am I kidding? I may have won Julia back, but there's still her psycho-demonic ex to contend with.

Julia slides on her boots, swipes through her hair with a brush, stands—and winces.

"Hey, hey," I soothe, a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Julia looks away, but I catch a glimpse of a blush. Oh. That.

"How long is this," she winces again, "supposed to last?"

"What?" I ask, feigning ignorance as a grin erupts on my mouth.

"You know..."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

Blushing again, Julia mutters, "The...soreness."

I know I shouldn't find her discomfort so amusing, but she's unbearably adorable when she's shy. I don't think I've ever seen her like this.

"Oh that? I can kiss it better, you know," I chuckle, my hands reaching for her waist.

"So? What did you see?" Julia demands, quickly changing the subject.

Still elusive, I see.

Sighing, I reply, "There was a coyote by the creek when I went to wash myself."

"What?"

"A coyote. For some reason it wouldn't touch the water. It just kept…watching me."

The fear on her face is alarming, because this time Julia doesn't try to hide it.

"Aren't animals supposed to be afraid of humans? Because I swear this thing looked like it wanted to kill me," I ask, hoping that I'm just being paranoid with the whole bloodthirsty-coyote-out-for-my-heart theory.

"This isn't an ordinary animal."

"It's him, isn't it?"

Julia shoots me a look, as if surprised that I'd figured it out so quickly.

"Yes. It's Jin."

"Was he here the whole time do you think?"

"Knowing him, yes."

"So he saw us—he saw us having—"

"Yes."

"That motherfu—"

"We need to get moving. Now."

She's already making her way to my motorcycle, but before she starts getting restless, like always, I take her by the hand and pull her close.

"We're doing this together, right?" I ask, our eyes meeting. "No matter what happens?"

Julia throws her arms around me. We hold one another for a while like that, she on tiptoe, my face buried in her neck, until the Native woman pulls away with a sigh. With a touch so gentle it warms me to my toes, she cups my cheek in one hand.

"Thanks for coming back."

I kiss her, already hungry for more, and Julia responds in kind.

"Okay, you perv," she giggles, as my hand reaches under her sweatshirt. "We really need to go now."

But before we mount my bike, Julia removes the smallest pinches of dirt from the pouch that Blackfoot shaman gave us. Holding it loosely in the palm of her hand, she chants something in her language, waves her hand gently over the one containing the dirt, and then, with one breath of air, blows the dirt over the now ashen campfire. She repeats the same motions at the waterfall, and to the nearby trees, before rejoining me.

"It's part hex, part cleansing spell," she explains. "It won't stop Jin from finding us, but it'll confuse him for a day or two. It also protects whoever camps here next."

She looks up into the sky, as if searching for the winged devil, and then shoves the pouch back into her pocket.

"Julia?"

"Yes?"

"I dreamt about a coyote. You know, that time you asked me about my nightmare—"

"I know."

Of course she knows.

"When I saw Jin, he said he'd hurt you if I came in contact with you. Now that he knows I'm here, maybe I should—"

"He can't hurt me anymore than he already has, Hwoarang. Besides, you being here is a serious blow to his ego."

I laugh, starting the ignition. My bike growls to life and Julia wraps her arms about my waist.

"Let's go."