*******************************************************************************************
Malone jerked awake once again, and instantly regretted it when blood rushed into his head, dizzying him. The room swam for a few brief moments, and he looked around anxiously as he focused on Veronica's still form. *That can't be comfortable* he thought as he looked at her. She was curled into a ball on one of the tree branch chairs he and Roxton had patented, a blanket barely covering her legs, and her one arm touched the bed lightly. Malone turned his eyes away from her and looked at his bandaged leg. The pressing of the leaves against his wound stopped the blood flow, yet it didn't stop the throbbing in both his head and the muscles around it. He touched the swollen flesh experimentally and instantly regretted it when the pain shot down his entire leg. Cursing softly, he quickly adjusted the blanket about himself and propped the pillows up to allow him to sit upright. He felt weak, as if even doing something simple would exhaust him. Some of the jungle plants Veronica
used to dull pain tended to do that to them all, yet it usually took away the pain.
Sighing, he enjoyed the silence of the tree house for a few minutes, watching the clear sky with a relaxed expression. Veronica murmured something softly, disturbing the silence for a minute. He looked over at her, and he noticed her hand clutching the blanket in a death grip. She continued to whisper softly, her dreams obviously troubling her quiet a minute. Malone pushed himself to his side, and he looked at the troubled woman's face. Her eyes fluttered rapidly. His ears strained to catch her words, and he began to hear her soft comments. "Don't," she whispered softly, her hand that was placed on the bed outstretched as if searching for something. Malone raised his own hand, touching hers lightly and her fingers entwined with his as if in need. "Don't leave me too, Ned..." she continued, shuddering lightly. Malone looked at her silently, and noticed that the shuddering must have meant she was crying in her dream. He heard her whisper a begging note, and he stood up slowly,
balancing on one leg delicately. He picked her up, feeling her relax as he put her on the bed. Slowly and cautiously, he put himself behind her, and she instinctively turned over, clutching at him.
Malone was surprised by these unconscious actions of need she was showing, things she would never do when the light of day shone on her. He pulled his head back, staring down at her as she slept on with exhaustion wiped off her face. The pain that had hardened her to be wary of all them, even after three years, was still there, but it had softened. Malone found himself staring down at her as if in silent wonder. So the action she had shown him of keeping him a friend was an act, he mused, swallowing hard. Her face, softened and free from her protective mask, was so innocent and trusting. He wondered if this was what Roxton had talked about to him, only with Roxton, he had to peel off every layer of Marguerite's thick shell.
But there is no comparing Marguerite with Veronica, or vice versa for both of us, Malone thought. They were different, but both similar at the same time. Marguerite and Veronica were both untrusting, but Veronica's had not come from years of being hunted like Marguerite, but from years alone. Veronica had only one mask of indifference and distrust, while Marguerite had multiple layers, like a hardened onion. Malone tried not to laugh at that thought, because at first Marguerite had been like a bad...well, vegetable. Bitter and hard, simple as that, but what you saw was definitely something totally different from the real woman. Malone did not try to fathom Roxton's attraction to her, but all of them knew it was a matter of time before Roxton wore her down or Marguerite pushed him too far.
Malone sighed softly, brushing a finger along Veronica's jaw line tenderly. He knew he was no better than any of them. He hid his feelings for the blonde "untamed beauty", as Roxton had humorously put it, and he had almost lost her several times. Once to a native tribal king, once to a native who claimed to be her destiny, and lately, as the tale came from Marguerite, a man who had basically seduced her into loving him. Malone felt his heart tense up at that, because it was showing it wouldn't be long before both of them got tired of waiting and moved on. He was determined not to leave her, and he sensed the rest of the explorers worried about her.
Malone continued to trace the contours of the blonde's face, touching her nose lightly. More and more ever day, he found himself forgetting what Gladys looked like, of the past women in his life. He knew he was falling in love with Veronica, and he knew she was sharing similar emotions, but was frightened even more than he was. She had spent her entire life alone, and thought that was her fate, and he had spent his entire life trying to be a different man, one like Roxton even. But he wasn't; he was a storyteller, who had been taunted throughout his life for his seemingly meaningless life. But Veronica had given it a meaning, and he would forever be wondering how she did it. Although she tended to be the most stubborn woman alive, he had had the bruises from her knockout punches to prove it, she was also perhaps the most caring. She was willing to take strangers into her home, something that ended up with five friendships, now down to four. Three years had changed them all,
but their pasts still remained like a clear reminder.
Malone realized he had been staring down at her as he thought about this, and he snapped out of his musing. He also realized that he was naked underneath the blanket, and Veronica wore very little. This was not the best situation to be in for both of them. Suppose...suppose what? His brain demanded. Suppose the group arrives and finds us in bed together, me naked, her very close to it. But all of them knew he wouldn't take advantage of her like that, whatever the circumstances. Maybe there would come a time for them, but it wasn't now. Malone quietly bent his head down and kissed her gently, not enough to disturb the usually light sleeper. He pulled the blanket tightly about his hips, and rolled her over. Pulling her back against his chest, he rested a protective arm around her, allowing their combined warmth to lull him to sleep. The pain in his leg was forgotten as Veronica smiled in her sleep, her own hand going to lie over his, their fingers entwining.
********************************************************************************************
Malone jerked awake once again, and instantly regretted it when blood rushed into his head, dizzying him. The room swam for a few brief moments, and he looked around anxiously as he focused on Veronica's still form. *That can't be comfortable* he thought as he looked at her. She was curled into a ball on one of the tree branch chairs he and Roxton had patented, a blanket barely covering her legs, and her one arm touched the bed lightly. Malone turned his eyes away from her and looked at his bandaged leg. The pressing of the leaves against his wound stopped the blood flow, yet it didn't stop the throbbing in both his head and the muscles around it. He touched the swollen flesh experimentally and instantly regretted it when the pain shot down his entire leg. Cursing softly, he quickly adjusted the blanket about himself and propped the pillows up to allow him to sit upright. He felt weak, as if even doing something simple would exhaust him. Some of the jungle plants Veronica
used to dull pain tended to do that to them all, yet it usually took away the pain.
Sighing, he enjoyed the silence of the tree house for a few minutes, watching the clear sky with a relaxed expression. Veronica murmured something softly, disturbing the silence for a minute. He looked over at her, and he noticed her hand clutching the blanket in a death grip. She continued to whisper softly, her dreams obviously troubling her quiet a minute. Malone pushed himself to his side, and he looked at the troubled woman's face. Her eyes fluttered rapidly. His ears strained to catch her words, and he began to hear her soft comments. "Don't," she whispered softly, her hand that was placed on the bed outstretched as if searching for something. Malone raised his own hand, touching hers lightly and her fingers entwined with his as if in need. "Don't leave me too, Ned..." she continued, shuddering lightly. Malone looked at her silently, and noticed that the shuddering must have meant she was crying in her dream. He heard her whisper a begging note, and he stood up slowly,
balancing on one leg delicately. He picked her up, feeling her relax as he put her on the bed. Slowly and cautiously, he put himself behind her, and she instinctively turned over, clutching at him.
Malone was surprised by these unconscious actions of need she was showing, things she would never do when the light of day shone on her. He pulled his head back, staring down at her as she slept on with exhaustion wiped off her face. The pain that had hardened her to be wary of all them, even after three years, was still there, but it had softened. Malone found himself staring down at her as if in silent wonder. So the action she had shown him of keeping him a friend was an act, he mused, swallowing hard. Her face, softened and free from her protective mask, was so innocent and trusting. He wondered if this was what Roxton had talked about to him, only with Roxton, he had to peel off every layer of Marguerite's thick shell.
But there is no comparing Marguerite with Veronica, or vice versa for both of us, Malone thought. They were different, but both similar at the same time. Marguerite and Veronica were both untrusting, but Veronica's had not come from years of being hunted like Marguerite, but from years alone. Veronica had only one mask of indifference and distrust, while Marguerite had multiple layers, like a hardened onion. Malone tried not to laugh at that thought, because at first Marguerite had been like a bad...well, vegetable. Bitter and hard, simple as that, but what you saw was definitely something totally different from the real woman. Malone did not try to fathom Roxton's attraction to her, but all of them knew it was a matter of time before Roxton wore her down or Marguerite pushed him too far.
Malone sighed softly, brushing a finger along Veronica's jaw line tenderly. He knew he was no better than any of them. He hid his feelings for the blonde "untamed beauty", as Roxton had humorously put it, and he had almost lost her several times. Once to a native tribal king, once to a native who claimed to be her destiny, and lately, as the tale came from Marguerite, a man who had basically seduced her into loving him. Malone felt his heart tense up at that, because it was showing it wouldn't be long before both of them got tired of waiting and moved on. He was determined not to leave her, and he sensed the rest of the explorers worried about her.
Malone continued to trace the contours of the blonde's face, touching her nose lightly. More and more ever day, he found himself forgetting what Gladys looked like, of the past women in his life. He knew he was falling in love with Veronica, and he knew she was sharing similar emotions, but was frightened even more than he was. She had spent her entire life alone, and thought that was her fate, and he had spent his entire life trying to be a different man, one like Roxton even. But he wasn't; he was a storyteller, who had been taunted throughout his life for his seemingly meaningless life. But Veronica had given it a meaning, and he would forever be wondering how she did it. Although she tended to be the most stubborn woman alive, he had had the bruises from her knockout punches to prove it, she was also perhaps the most caring. She was willing to take strangers into her home, something that ended up with five friendships, now down to four. Three years had changed them all,
but their pasts still remained like a clear reminder.
Malone realized he had been staring down at her as he thought about this, and he snapped out of his musing. He also realized that he was naked underneath the blanket, and Veronica wore very little. This was not the best situation to be in for both of them. Suppose...suppose what? His brain demanded. Suppose the group arrives and finds us in bed together, me naked, her very close to it. But all of them knew he wouldn't take advantage of her like that, whatever the circumstances. Maybe there would come a time for them, but it wasn't now. Malone quietly bent his head down and kissed her gently, not enough to disturb the usually light sleeper. He pulled the blanket tightly about his hips, and rolled her over. Pulling her back against his chest, he rested a protective arm around her, allowing their combined warmth to lull him to sleep. The pain in his leg was forgotten as Veronica smiled in her sleep, her own hand going to lie over his, their fingers entwining.
********************************************************************************************