[ch.9]
[The Impossible]
"No…" Kayli's voice faltered in a confused manner as her gaze met the old leaves that coated the ground. "That's-" She was at a loss of words, getting lost in her own mind as she thought.
2019 minus 1916… that's a hundred and three years.
She gripped the knife and sputtered "That's impossible" She scooted away from Wilson, her eyes wide but now focused on him. He still looked mortified, a hard stare was fixated on the ground as he held his head in his hands. He was muttering how this was not possible, his breathing accelerating as he thought more so.
A panic was covering Wilson as the lady stood, exclaiming a loud and angry "What the HELL, Maxwell" while throwing the blade into the nearest tree. Bringing a hand to her hair and raking it though she looked to the sky. Darkness was coming sooner than she'd like.
Thinking about sciences and why this would screw with her life would come in a little bit. First things first; She needed to make this fire bigger.
A anxious twitch rocked Wilson's body as his companion worked. His mind worked on the possibility of how this could happen. Both of them from different eras, a hundred years apart. They shouldn't know each other. Everything clicked. Why she had those jars, why she seemed to speak oddly and in slurs, why she had medical supplies that he wouldn't have even seen in his local doctors office, why she didn't wear a skirt or dress, and why she acted so differently than the girls he had known in his time.
He couldn't cope. Muttering 'No' over and over to himself as the younger lady tossed in more wood into the fire and then returning to her spot on the log. Her eyes were fixated on his shivering form.
She was not adept to deal with these types of situations. Anxiety is something she herself is used to but when it comes to soothing others she has no idea what to do. She watched for a moment as she raised one hand and placed it on his back. The bone of his scapula was easily felt beneath his clothes as his body rocked. "Shhh" She whispered, more to herself so the anxiety wouldn't consume herself as well. His body rocked more as she rubbed his back in a circular motion. Mirroring the motion he demonstrated for her the day prior.
"Wilson, it's alright" She called softly, enough to get his attention but not enough to seem pushy. She used her other hand, pulling one of his hands from his hair and to his leg. His eyes looked to her in an instant. "Wilson, shhh" Tears gathered into his eyes, pushing back a sob as he spoke.
In a moment she leaned into him, pulling him into a warm embrace. Her arms locked around his torso, rubbing soothingly into his back while sobs wracked his body. "Noo" He booed through hiccups as gentle hands massaged his back.
"Shh, it's alright Wilson. We're alright" She breathed, suddenly squeezing him slightly and bringing a hand to his hair. Holding him tightly as his arms finally wrapped around her, squeezing her harder than she was doing to him. "No" He sobbed again, "No, w-we're not!" He shivered and shook in her arms. "No, Wilson." she said with a sense of solidness, "We're going to be okay together," She pulled away from him and made him look her in the eye. "I promise" Her words are warm like her hands as she wipes his tears away, her hands holding his face as thumbs grazed the skin beneath his eyes.
The sky was now dark, the echo of an old owl's hoot was carried in the wind as Kayli poked the fire with a stick. The glow illuminated enough for her to watch everything around the area.
She had told Wilson to sleep first, she'd keep watch. Some sort of instinct clouded her mind, almost a motherly fashion even if this man was older than she is by over a hundred years.
Wilson laid on the ground, his backpack close to him and his axe closer. He was shivering in his sleep every minute or so even with the blazing flames that were hissing each time she would poke the coals. She paid close attention to Wilson and his shaking body. Brief anxiety washed over her as she thought for a moment, the nippy night's wind bringing a shudder out of herself. Looking at her sleeves and sighing, shedding the warm flannel and standing.
Her footsteps were soft and careful, avoiding the small branches. She dropped the flannel over his torso, covering the exposed expanse of his arms.
She felt something rise in her as she gazed down at the sleeping man. Something familiar that made a heat rise to her face. She knew this feeling from once before and thought she wouldn't feel it again. Love. But surely she couldn't feel love for this man yet. She didn't even know how old he was, nor did he with she.