Prelude to a Kiss
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sorry about the chapter confusion people, it's all ammended now!
Chapter Seven
The ruby red flames are leaping up, almost giving the impression that they hadn't just been created, but rather that they had been roaring for hours. The sand around us is settling, but the abrasive gust seems to be returning in fits and starts.
"But first I think I should have a quick look at your hand, hmm?" I tell him, reasoning that I can tell him about the book later. His hand really is in an appalling condition, and judging by what I think is horrendous, Jon seemingly gets off lightly in his scraps.
I turn to him; sitting at a jaunty angle and tending the fire. I notice his hand even more in the flames, and carefully take it in my own. I squint my eyes to try and see it better in the firelight.
"Oooh that does look painful." I refrain from telling him that I think his second pucnh didn't improve its state, but I don't think it best to, because afterall, I did tell him to hit him...
I turn around and fumble about the remaining bedding. I grab a corner and tear at it. Should I wet it or something? I try not to let my unsure mindset show, but he must know that I'm not very good at this sort of thing.
I take the hip flask from next to Jonathan, not thinking about its contents, and pour some of it onto the navy material. I watch as it absorbs the liquid, and I feel Rick's intent gaze upon me; I casually look up with a little smile.
I delicately wrap the coarse material around his knuckle, and tie it in a small knot. All the time trying to avoid myself from blushing under his deep stare.
Once I've completed my task, I try to move my hands from his. I'm ever the aware of the magnetic force that occurs whenever we are near each other, and even though my logic is reariong against it, I find myself indulging myself in the flight of fantasy that the kiss we shared earlier may be repeated sometime.
It is the waiting that I cannot stand.
Of course I'm still speculating about Jonathan; I've had to put up with his courting for years now, so it's about time he returned the favour.
Of course it is likely that the attitude I took toward his young women will be undoubtedly vice-versa with whomever I court. There is always the probability that Jonathan dissaprooves, and as much as I love him, and as much as he is my dear brother I can't let him hold me back any more.
Oh, he doesn't hold me back. Evelyn you are being vicious towards him for no good reason! I haven't found the strength, mental that is, to tell him yet. Because, to be honest, I'm not sure of the state of things myself.
Is it because he's American? Now that is hardly fair. I don't even know his reaction yet, I'm just pre-empting. But Jon does go on all the time about this League of Nations and Woodrow Wilson... but that has nothing to do with Rick!
On the subject of Rick, leaving European problems aside and focusing on something I actually care about, I find myself longing for his touch, but in all cases my greatest desire is just to be in his presence. His behaviour is addictive.
I am drawn back to my hands, to find that he is deliberately holding onto them, and I attempt poorly to fool myself that my face is only hot from the fire that is infront of me.
Even in the firelight I can see that she's gone pink, and I find myself seriously considering kissing her again, but you can always have too much of a good thing. I did take her by surprise previously, and I'm on eggshells around her as it is so I don't want to ruin something this good.
Her cute little face when she's concentrating... I can't help but stare when she crinkles her nose, and bites her lip gently, deep in concentration. I don't usually notice little details about people, especially women. I tend to just notice the main things, if you get my drift. But as always, there is an exception and she happens to be sitting right next to me.
I smiled back when she smiled at me, but I wasn't embarassed that she caught me looking at her. She finishes tying my rough and ready bandage, and goes to take her little hands away from mine.
Not wanting to break our interaction, I slyly hold onto her hands. I smile at her, but the smile I'm giving her isn't just my dashing grin (or so I like to think it is).
I adore this girl before me so much, so much that I'd hit Daniels and his scrawny friends to a pulp for her. I notice the blush increase some.
"Why are you blushing?" I ask, and then regret. Of course you know why, jackass.
She squints her eyes. "I am not." Her faux grandness doesn't trick me.
My smile relaxes. "Sure you ain't." I reply sarcastically. "I'll let go if you want."
But I don't, and search her face for a sign. She keeps eye contact with me, and I feel my heart melt.
She's looking at me intently, like she's reading a book again. I look at her right back, until I can't handle the intensity of her gaze.
She's clever this one, and that's one of the things that excites me about her. You never know what she's going to do next, but you seem to think that certain things are out of the question.
And then she shows you that they aren't.
When she appears sure; her face relaxes as do her tensed hands, she smiles at me again, her soft tresses musing her features.
"You are pert, Mister O'Connell." She tells me, looking away. I follow her gaze- she's looking out at the desert, probably to where we were before I came and saw to Daniels.
I hold onto her little hands like I don't want to let go. Her soft hands beneath my rough ones is a feeling that I'm unused to, and I sure as hell want to get used to it.
"Thanks for fixing my hand." I tell her, looking at her handy work.
"Oh it's awful." She says, differing.
"Nah, best I've seen." I tell her truthfully.
I smile at his compliment, but it's a little smile that I keep to myself. His grip on my hand is looser than earlier, than when we were running...
He is a charmer, I'll give him that! Cheeky man...
But I do know that I love him for it. I let him hold my hand for a little while longer, and then when I hear Jonathan roll over, I snatch my hand away.
I have to be honest, it was rather enthusing to have him hold my hand like that; no-one has ever done that before.
Well, there has never been anyone before.
I'm much more interested in my work than be involved in relationships that probably won't last and end up with people getting hurt. Books don't hurt you. Well, unless they land on you but that's something else entirely.
I've seen enough of it happen to Jonathan and his friends. The relationship problem, that is, not the books.
But then again, the women Jonathan tends to charm usually have husbands. Hmph.
I wonder about Rick, and his past adventurers. I'm sure he's gone out with plenty of women. Of course I'm jealous, and it will be sure-fire ammunition for Jonathan but...
Well, there is no but, so lets get back to this little book problem Evie, before you engross yourself entirely in contemplation on the subject of O'Connell.
I'm going to tell him my plan, or shouldn't I?
I mean if I tell him, I'm only giving him the ammunition to call me a hypocrite.
It would be much better to just surprise him.
I watch as he leans back, and I resist the temptation to stroke his face or make any contact with him at all.
He is so attractive that I'm finding it hard to focus on the excavation itself!
Oooh! I'm adamant about the fact that he isn't thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.
We sit for a while in silence, time passes but as neither of us have a watch or clock of any kind, so we don't know how long for. I enjoy her company, and hope to get a lot more of it. Just sitting watching her is enough for me, to soak in her presence and the way she speaks. The way she acts... Her brother could be a problem, but that depends just how we deal with him.
Eventually, the warm glow from the fire gets to me; my eyes begin to close under the heavy blanket of air, and my last semi-conscious thoughts belong to Evelyn.
His eyes gradually close, and I watch his chest fall rhythmically- telling me that he's fallen asleep.
I notice that he hasn't even put his shotgun down. I ponder the idea of taking it out of his firm grasp, but don't. His weapons obviously make him feel secure and it would be wrong for me to take that from him.
Besides, I have never seen him without a weapon, other than at the prison...
I shudder at the recollection that he nearly died that day. I watch his sleeping form and, once I've prodded the fire and seen that Jon is dead to the world, I hastily but carefully get up and make my way towards the American's camp.
I pass the obelisks and sandtraps, and stop just outside the boundary of their camp. Daniels has gone back into his tent, as have whoever helped him.
I set my sights on the Egyptologists tent, and tread towards it, unable to keep the eagerness from my physique.
I stop, and see the book before me in all its glory.
There's no time to bask in it Evelyn! Get the book and go before he wakes up!
I reach out but retract my arms when Mister Chamberlain murmours in his sleep. I snatch the book from his hands, but with a lightness to it if possible. I clutch the precious book to my breast and make my way with a sudden urgency back to our camp. I can feel a thrill pulse around my body at my thrifty acquiring of the book.
I struggle through the sand with it slightly, my mind translating the hieroglyphs on its cover without me wanting to, but it doesn't matter because in my excitement I can't acknowledge what they say.
I set the book down respectfully, holding in my gasp of awe, and grab the puzzle box from my brothers suit jacket.
"That's called stealing you know." I hear the tired American accent from behind me.
"According to you and my brother, it's called 'borrowing'." I dismiss, but knowing full well that he's speaking the truth.
I pass my hands over the book admiring it, drinking in it's splendour. I slowly take up the box, brush sand from its lid and begin to translate, hastening to open it. I hear Rick kneel up behind me, and feel his shoulder against mine.
"I thought you wanted the book of Amun-Ra. Isn't it made outta gold?"
"Yes..." I reply absent-mindedly, fiddling with the key-box, my heart pounding.
"So why do you have the black book?" He questions. I stop my attempt in opening the box and turn my head to face him.
"The book of the dead? It was in Dr Chamberlain's possession and-"
"The book of the dead??!! You sure you wanna be playing around with that thing?" He exclaims in a whisper.
It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book."
I smile when the box opens with a 'click', it's petal like folds expanding graciously. I hold my breath, savouring the moment as I place it into the books embossed sleeve. I turn it, noticing that Rick has held his breath too.
I'm glad I'm sharing such a joyous and to-be celebrated moment in history with him. Afterall, it is because he brought us here that I even got this chance to read the book.
Two clicks symbolize that the book is open and ready to be viewed. I open the book quickly, losing my adrenaline and nerve.
An agressive gust blasts through the city, ruffling everything- my hair, dress, Rick's shirt and Jons' sleeping form.
Must be a coincidence.
"That happens a lot around here." offers Rick, having seen my still expression. "So whats it say?"
I pass my fingers across the cool slate-like stone that the book is fashioned from, tracing the hieroglyphs, etching them into my memory.
I shall never forget this moment.
I watch her eyes dart across the page, drinking in all the information. Her fingers are caressing the page longingly. I lean over her, her hairs scent filling my nostrils with its sweet enticing smell.
"Amun Ra, Amun Dei-" She begins, her Ancient Egyptian clearly perfect. She turns to me quickly. "It speaks of the night and of the day." She informs me with a coy smile before turning her attention back to the book. Okay, so it seems harmless. Just talking about the day and night.
Nothing to get in a fit over O'Connell. But I'm still on edge for some reason...
I can feel it radiating from her, how big a deal this is. This could be the next big thing after finding Tut's tomb for the History books. I'm happy because she's happy. Hell, this to her must be like when I got my gunny sack!
"Suey yat harum set sim mat ebek iya, Imhotep im supekey set suey, Yatuwey Yatuwey Yatuwey-"
Her face snaps up when we hear an antagonized scream.
"NOOO! YOU MUST NOT READ FROM THE BOOK!"
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