A/n: Ah, that counter to hit 200. Thanks a lot !
"talking" thoughts, emphasis # scene change #
Day Fourteen: Run, Serenity. Run!
"There . . . it's done."
It was mid-afternoon the next day, and Serenity sighed with relief, her shoulders aching. Wiping off her hands, she climbed into the newly set-up hammock with relish.
She'd just finished washing the blanket -- which was a really heavy cloth -- and tying it between two palms. It smelled soap-y, but it didn't fall, perfect for sleeping. She'd made it for Seto; so he wouldn't have to keep sleeping against a tree and hurting his back. The last thing she wanted was for him to get angry. Oh, and to break something.
She arched her back and stretched, and the hammock wobbled a bit in a passing ocean breeze. The sea was rolling and pulling back again; the tides were a sweet orange instead of a glittering yellow-and-brown swirl. Her hair was getting rather long. But she daren't complain out loud. His hair looked even worse today than yesterday, when she did the actual mangling. And plus, last night, when he cooked the poor monkey he'd caught spying on them, she could swear he cackled when he pulled the monkey's head down underneath the boiling water. It'd been a rather scary thing to observe! I understand he was angry at the animal because the coconut could've caused some damage, but did he have to say, 'So this is the arm that threw the coconut, eh?' lookin' all insane?
Frowning, puzzled, Serenity ran a confused hand through her long locks. Her changeable dark hazel eyes, green when the light was shining through them, studied a far-off island on the horizon's line. Maybe he had a double personality, like Joey said his best friend Yugi had. Half evil, half-nice. It was possible, since she'd already witnessed his 'nice' side, when yesterday on the beach . . . and he had looked straight into her eyes . . . with those dazzling sapphire orbs . . .
She felt a shivery tingle creep up the base of her spine at the sweet memory. Was it possible to feel happy, sad, and angry at the same time . . .? Because that was how she had felt, when he'd looked at her so directly, like he was seeing through her soul. So . . . -- her legs dangled, so she folded them up Indian-style -- what did it all mean? If it meant something at all. Did he like her too. He'd said so. But did he mean it? Did he even remember it?
Boys were such a confusing lot. I need to read the introduction . . . she thought, smiling wryly. Boys for Dummies.
I need to read the introduction . . . she thought, smiling wryly.A tense look entered her expression then and she started to sweat again and Serenity's imagination ran away with her. And . . . what if, when they had no more food, would he dunk her head underneath a vat of boiling water and make some Serenity Stew?
It was a ridiculous idea, but . . . she couldn't help worrying into a frenzy. I mean, I like him and all, but he's a complete savage. I have to make sure he never finds out what I did to his hair or else I'll surely be on the menu. She hoped he wasn't in the habit of running his hand through or touching his head, or else he'd surely find out. More than once, he'd mentioned a breeze when they woke up. Besides, it wasn't my fault! I did the best I could! The wind kept blowing, and his icy cool breath kept blowing on my neck, distracting me . . . sending all these tingles down my spine . . . but why did it distract me, I can't imagine . . .
Oh well, she comforted herself, the explosion of discovery beforehand will alert, and I'll have time to run before -- I don't know, he cuts my hair off . . . 'As revenge' . . . boys seem to have a thing with revenge --
". . . Oh. So you finished, did you?"
Seto's deep baritone cut through her thoughts, sending them into an abrupt, spinning halt. She was so busy sweating bullets and pondering doom that she hadn't noticed he was standing right in front of her.
There she goes, off in her own little world again, he thought as he approached with what he thought was a friendly smile. . . . apparently not.
"I'm sorry!" she blurted without thinking, "Please don't eat me!" complete with bow and flinch. Or, more accurately, still thinking about 'the Serenity Stew.'
Now, that wasn't the cleverest moment of her life. He walked away while giving her a strange look, like she'd lost her mind. She was alone again. As she was whacking her forehead subsequently against her palm, telling herself that he'd meant the hammock, wasn't referring to ANYTHING about his hair, one of the knots on the palm gave way.
Luckily, the soft sand broke her fall.
Sigh.
# Meanwhile #
That girl is weird, Seto thought as he pensively stared into the sky, looking for any thunderclouds, signs of a storm, and a rescue plane. She must've hit her head on some debris too many times when the tornado struck and spat us both out here. He didn't even want to know what she was talking about. It was obvious it was something bad against him, and there was no paranoia about it. Maybe I shouldn't have been so viciously enoying cooking that blasted monkey, but . . . there he was, had finally worked up his nerve, and the stupid thing interrupts! And maybe I shouldn't have made her eat my stew, but . . . oh well. Better than starving.
Yawning deeply -- the ocean's constant motion was tiring to watch, he picked up some shells and threw them out into the ocean, watching them skip. Huh. I've never done that before. Funny things happen when you try things . . . for the first time. Like last night. I could swear the monkey was laughing at me . . . pointing at my head --
Puzzled, he ran a quick hand through his hair.
Luckily, he didn't feel a thing.
# Meanwhile #
Having put up the hammock for the second time, Serenity decided not to get in it again. Instead, she walked towards the shore.
"S-seto . . .?"
She let out a whew when she saw he was asleep. Leaning against a tree, as usual. She wasn't sure why she was whewing. What was she supposed to say? Whatever it was, it was sure to come out even more dorky.
But since he was asleep, she didn't have to explain. Or even say anything. Taking advantage of his nap, she decided to take this opportunity to try and fix up her 'mistake.' Giving him a little push, she settled his head gently on her cross-legged lap, so as not to wake him and took out the scissors where they were still stuck straight up in the fine peach-colored sand where they'd been left.
This was very risky, since he could very well wake up any moment, and he wasn't a fool; seeing her was scissors in her hand would make him wonder what the hell she was doing. But she wouldn't, if it weren't absolutely necessary! And it was.
She worked up the nerve, taking deep calm breaths. He wasn't awake to divert her concentration now, and the wind was barely above a light gust. I'd better be quick about it, though.
Why is my hand shaking like that? Calm down, Serenity; or you'll make it worse!
Hesitatingly, she began to snip away, pausing every now and then . . . The sun was going down, slowly, looking like molten gold in the bright pink sky . . . She began to daydream, about when she was little and had read about skies like these only in books . . . She had been a bookworm, then, and still was . . . The gift of sight . . . It was still appreciated, especially to watch scenes so beautiful like these.
Like a child that had drifted off while his mommy read him a story, Serenity could feel herself drifting off, in a world of fantasy. Her imagination had stayed with her throughout her childhood. It was becoming a sort of a problem, ever since she would daydream about a person while talking to them! Still, that didn't stop her from getting excellent grades in school.
She just daydreamed up the answers to the tests! Easy to solve enough.
But now it was a problem! Looking down, sometime later -- the last glimmers of sunlight were just about to leave for the evening --, she came down from Mars and discovered with horror what her little 'dawdling' problem had made her do.
She had made little French braids, and what seemed like a bald patch on one side. Oh, no! Me and my fatuous fantasizing . . . jeez, Serenity, you are the stupidest person to walk the earth . . .
Even worse, he started to stir. Frozen with terror, she did manage to hide the scissors before he opened his eyes, with a start. She just hoped that she could wipe off the guilty look off her face in time.
"What . . . are you doing?" He was suspicous like anything.
"I -- I --" She groped around for an excuse while groping behind her to peel the telltale evidence from her fingers. " -- saw you sleeping, a-and thought you'd get a stiff back," she babbled, "and thought you'd like to lay down. That's a-all."
Luckily, he didn't notice her obvious nervousness or any guilt whatsoever. She looked like an angel that descended from the clouds above. From his upside-down viewpoint, behind her. She was a painting from an old master's work. Her long auburn hair was nearly the same color as the last few remaining rays, and her peach complexion was painted slightly pink, with a few dusting cute freckles that indicated she was a natural redhead. Even though, her dark brown eyes and the sweep of her impossibly long lashes stood out in unmistakable contrast. Her face was the sweetest thing to wake up to in his life was the only thought in his head just then.
He didn't move, and spoke in a husky croak, "I . . . was dreaming about you . . ." He reached for her, kind of clumsily since it was upside-down. "Kiss me."
"Oka-ay!" she breathed a little too eagerly, touched by what he said and eager to take his mind from dangerous things. As she bent down a little awkwardly, since it was hard to bend that way, she managed to do it. Good thing I take gymnastics. Discreetly, she managed to undo the French braids under the pretense of running-one's-fingers move. Again, it was awkward to do upside-down, but she managed it.
God, he was a handsome devil. Even with his hair slightly crimped, like a perm. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she pulled away and he pushed himself back up to sit. "And cute. He's got the bluest eyes I've ever seen." Especially with the sun filtering through them, the last weak rays make them shine as if with their own light.
Too late, she realized she'd said what should've been silent out loud. If any possible, she burned up even more like a fever. God . . . just eat me now . . .
"You have lovely-colored eyes also." He was amused by her embarrassment, the sun behind him but his eyes were shining. "At times, they're dark green, but at other times . . . they're brown . . .?" He raised his dark newly uncovered eyebrows questioningly.
Serenity bit her lip. He was being so nice and sweet; she was tempted to blurt out the truth. "That's why they're called um, hazel," she said studying her lap.
"Ah. Hazel." He lifted her chin to admire them one last time, and then got up, smiling. "I'll be back." And then he left. Phew.
Serenity sat there for a long while and then shivered, suddenly feeling a sharp dread.
# Bit later #
"There," he muttered, finished breaking up the stems finally. He walked over to the stream to wash up. Dipping his hands in the fresh, cool water, he splashed in onto his face. Brr. Cold. Why is it so cold? he wondered absently. It wasn't this way before. Maybe it was because he had felt so warm earlier, and the shock of any temperature was enough to chill him.
A fond look entered his eye, and he absently patted his face dry. Great. Now I'm daydreaming like her like a sap. Well, that kiss had been something; it had even surprised him. Even more so than the first one. People think I'm never happy, but I am. I don't know why, but I feel a different kind of happiness when I'm with her . . . not my usual sinister kind . . .
Oh God . . . I'm obessessing like a teenager! He bent and covered his face with his hands, not feeling who he was anymore. I'm going nuts. Taking away his fingers, he sighted into the water . . .
. . . at his reflection . . .
The last few rays of daylight were just disappearing, but not before he caught a glimpse of his reflection.
"My HAIR!!!"
Horrified, he touched his head again and again in the now moonless night. It was HORRIBLE. What did she DO? It looks like I've got mange! After a stunned moment, he began to breathe very rapidly. With each breath, he got angrier and angrier. Why that --! She said she knew what she was DOING! Then, she must've done this on PURPOSE!
Cursing under his breath, his first instinct was to wait for her to fall asleep, and snip all her pretty hair off. But that would be childish. Even though she deserved it. It looked that bad!
Instead, another plan formed in his mind, a better one, as he recalled something she'd said earlier. Still breathing very hard, he clenched his fists in tight balls and moved slowly through the brush, like a predator. A smile twisted and he saw red. But he'd put it off till tomorrow; and let her tremble tonight. No doubt she'd heard his scream and made a run for it.
After all, although he was portrayed as cruel and sadistic, he did have a sense of humor.
A cruel and sadistic sense of humor.
To bE conTinUed
