All I can say is, I'm sorry.
It's been ages since I last updated, and even though this is quite short, I felt so bad I had to put it up.
I promise, I really do, I'll try to update quicker next time, and with a longer piece.
I hope I haven't lost any readers, can you please still review for me?
I didn't mean to fall asleep for that long. It just happened. I don't want you thinking that I'm so lazy that I fall asleep for 14 hours every time I go to bed.
In fact, sometime within those 14 hours, I did wake up.
I felt Paul's breath against my cheek and his leg underneath mine. I felt his strong arm around me and his chest rising up and down with every breath he took.
I was aware that my head and hand were on that very same chest.
I was also in a very unusually blissful mood. Later, I wondered why, since, you know, I was in a cave with a guy I hated.
But right then I didn't care. I turned around so my back was against him but put his arm around me.
And then I drifted back to sleep.
I didn't care where we were. I didn't want to care. It was just me and Suze, and that's how it's meant to be.
I sensed her moving and for a moment there I thought she was gonna go. But she didn't.
She turned around and put my arm around her. I smiled.
When I next woke up my brain was functioning properly enough to know where I was. And I wasn't happy.
I was still in that damned dark blue jumpsuit that we'd had to wear. And it was starting to stink. Bad.
But worse than that. I was in a cave. Trapped! With Paul!
I squinted one eye open, to see if Suze was awake. She was.
I realised it was only a matter of time before she wriggled out of my embrace.
I looked around, as well as I could anyway and saw (if I'm honest) just a whole lot of grey nothingness. There was a lot of rocks and stones around us and the walls were rough and spiky, with what I thought was little pieces of glass as well.
I tried to turn around. I couldn't. Paul was holding me too damned hard.
"Paul. Wake up," I said, no warmth in my voice.
I decided to feign sleep, so with my eyes still closed all I did was pull her that slightest bit closer to me.
"Paul, I know you're awake. Stop pretending."
Dammit!
Ok, well, I didn't know, but hopefully it would work.
I snuggled up even closer to her, and nuzzled her in the neck.
"No, I'm not. I'm still asleep." I ended with a kiss on her neck just below her ear.
I suppressed the shiver that had overtaken my body…at least I hope I did. I felt Paul smile in my neck…okay…I obviously didn't suppress as hard as I should have.
"Paul, stop it!"
I buried my head deeper into her neck and started stroking her stomach.
"Give me three reasons why I should."
I sat up.
" No. 1. This is cave.
No. 2. We are in this cave.
No. 3. We can't get out of this cave. ."
He just ignored me. "So, stop it Paul!" I whined, and pushed him back.
"Why?"
Ugh! I swear, I could slap him! Why didn't he get it?
"We need to get out!"
"I dunno, I kinda like this." My hand crawled up to her stomach and rested there.
I flung his hand off, and jumped up.
"Can somebody help?" I yelled, looking up the slope which we had rolled down. A slope which I knew had a hatch at the top of it.
I found this quite funny. I turned around and lay fully on my back, with my hands under my head.
"Please? Somebody? Anybody?" I pleaded desperately into nothingness. I sensed Paul smirking behind me. I turned around.
"Aren't you gonna help me?" I snapped.
"Help you do what? Make a fool of yourself? Well, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that you're doing a pretty good job of that by yourself," he grinned.
I threw him a dirty look and his grin expanded.
"You know what? Grin all you like. But when I'll be out of this damned place and you're still rotting away here, we'll see who'll be grinning."
I went back to yelling for help.
"And you think that screaming at the top of your lungs will get you your ticket out of here?" he questioned.
Fair point, I thought. Not that I was going to tell him that.
I bent down and picked up some rocks which I started chucking at the walls.
"It could work," I protested, but I was sounding doubtful even to my own ears.
"Please! Can somebody come and save me! I'm stuck with a complete maniac; if I'm forced to stay here any longer I'll die. I promise!"
Paul chuckled. I turned around and narrowed my eyes at him.
"Screw you!" I spat (not literally of course) and span back around thinking if I could maybe climb back out or something. Lost in thought I wasn't really thinking about what I was doing and crashed into a wall, scraping my hand all along it.
I yowled in pain, I'd peeled a lot of skin and it (my hand) was bleeding loads. Before I knew it, Paul was by my side having grabbed my hand.
"Shit Suze! Why'd you have to go and do that for?" he scowled, looking at my hand.
That made me angry. He had cheek!
First of all he didn't help me when I said we'd had to get out of here, secondly, when I was trying to get out, he laughed, and thirdly, after I'd hurt myself (telling him off) he had the nerve to come up to me and tell me off, as if it was my fault!
I snatched my hand away from his.
"Oh, now you're bothered?" I said, scornfully. He looked down into my eyes disbelievingly.
I've always been bothered, I thought. But I didn't say anything. It's not as if she'd believe me anyway.
He ignored me and reached for my hand. I didn't let him take it. Instead, I started shouting.
I told myself it's only best to stay quiet in these kinds of situations. She was only getting angry because her hand was hurt, I reasoned.
"Just laughing at me when I, like a fool, was shouting for help!"
"You don't care about me," I said bitterly. "You never have! So stop pretending to care."
Before I had chance to know what was happening, Paul had roughly grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up right against him.
"Stop it! I know what you think of me. You think I'm a user, you think I'm selfish, you think I'm a rich bastard and you think I'm snobby. You've stereotyped me in every negative way possible. But don't ever ever think I don't care."
I think it's safe to say I was more than shocked at his outburst.
His hands were gripping the tops of my arms, and his face was an inch away from mine at the most.
He slightly loosened his grip on my arms and moved back.
"I do care. I always have," he said in a much gentler and softer voice. But he sounded, I dunno, almost regretful.
He gently brushed away a lock of fringe that had dropped over my eyes.
I didn't know what to say. What could I say?
This time it wasn't as easy to say that he was lying. That all he wanted to do was get into my pants. Not after he's said it with so much honesty and desperation, which were both visible in his voice and his eyes.
I really was speechless. My mouth had gone all dry and I couldn't move my lips. Which didn't really matter I suppose, since I couldn't think of what to say anyway.
So I didn't. say anything, I mean.
I couldn't look at him either. It was way too painful. So I looked at the ground.
The only sound in the place was our breathing, and that damned trickling of water, both of which echoed around us.
Finally, he spoke. I looked up.
"Now, I know you're not exactly thrilled about being here, especially with me."
I opened my mouth (probably to deny it) but he held up his hand as if to shush me, and carried on talking.
"But I think we'll be able to find a way out of here sooner if we stick together. After that, if you want, we can go our separate ways. Just bear with me for now though."
Way to make me feel bad, I thought glumly.
"Your hand?" he said.
Oh yeah. Funny how as soon as he mentioned it all the pain came back. I inched it forward as an indication for him to take it.
Not trailing my hand down her arm or touching her any more unnecessarily, I took her hand…and flinched when I saw it. She'd hurt it really bad. No wonder all that crap came out her mouth.
He led me to a rock and made me sit on it. Then he asked me where the water source was. He'd probably heard the trickling of the water.
I told him where it was. He took off to where I'd pointed him to which hopefully was right. I'd never been good with directions.
I felt kinda odd, I don't know why but I just did.
Shortly, Paul returned with a wet cloth. He took my hand once again and really really gently dabbed away on the blood. It really hurt, especially because there were a lot of open wounds. It was stinging so much and I had to try really hard to resist the urge to pull my hand back.
I closed my eyes shut tight, hoping it would help. After a few moments I realised it didn't.
So I opened them gain.
No point in looking like a doofus, I thought, when it didn't even reduce the pain.
Yet…yet somehow Paul wasn't bothered. I mean, sure he was bothered about not causing me too much pain (if by the gentle way he was treating my hand was any indication) but he wasn't bothered about me acting like such a wimp.
Now I realised why I felt so odd. It wasn't me who was being weird, it was him. He was acting strangely …decent.
I mean, he hadn't made any sexual innuendo's, or touched me unnecessarily in any way, he hadn't even displayed that stupid smirk of his!
It was strangely unnerving.
Suppose, I better enjoy it while it lasts, I thought and smiled just the slightest.
It was as I was thinking this that he looked up and saw me gazing at him.
