There’s an old, heavy cart nail crudely hanging out the door, a piece of parchment still caught between the wrought iron and now splintered wood.
Cyrus lets go of me, as she gathers a knife from her boot. Then, she’s stalking around the back of the building, doing a loop until she’s back on the other side of me.
“It doesn’t look like whoever did this is still around. Will you come around the back and see if you can see anything out of the ordinary?” Cyrus speaks carefully. Eyes frantically searching me, her face uncharacteristically pulled into a frown.
Words still evade me, but I nod my agreement anyway.
Carefully, she reaches for my hand. This time, instead of reaching for my wrist, her fingers dance over my palms, twisting them between my fingers and grasping tight. Oh shit, she’s holding my hand.
Suddenly my thoughts take a different turn.
Cyrus is holding my hand in public.
Time freezes, as my blood pumps frantically.
This isn’t the moment to acknowledge this at all. She’s trying to figure out the shit that is going on, but she’s here. She’s comforting and supporting me. And she’sholding my fucking hand.
Although her hands are bigger than mine, ourfingers mesh together perfectly. Each line of one another, blending seamlessly to the point I don’t know where I start and she begins. And she’s doing so in public too. Anyone could see us here. Anyone. It would no longer be a secret. Yet, she’s still choosing to hold my hand intimately.
Whether she knows it– or planned it– or not, she calms down my nauseating thoughts, brings me back to my body. All with a simple delicate touch.
Fuck, I’ve missed her so much.
Cyrus gives a tight squeeze, before using our joint hands to move me. I don’t pay attention to where we’re going, my full focus is on her.
I don’t want to think about what’s happening out here, not when Cyrus has her hand wrapped so sweetly around me. It’s a balm to my wounded heart. I’ve been miserable since I decided to call it quits. I know it was the right decision, but that doesn’t mean that this moment of touch isn’t everything I need.
I don’t want to give in and go back to how things were before my confession, but one little indulgence, whilst everything feels so out of place won’t hurt. Right?
Her calloused fingertips gently scruff against the back of my hand. Even though my heart races, breathing comes easier with every brush.
Long grass tickles my ankles as Cyrus moves me along, I can’t remember where she’s taking me, but wherever it is, I hope it takes us a while to reach it. I want this feeling to last as long as possible.
We come to a stop all too soon. Long, lithe fingers cup my jaw and raise my eye-line away from our interconnected hands. Now I’m looking into ocean blue eyes, rolling with concern and worry.
“Are you okay?”
Am I okay? When the words register, everythingfloods back in. The poster written in red ink. The threat. Cyrus dragging me down the street.
No.
No, I really don’t think I’m okay. That doesn't matter right now, what does is figuring out this bullshit and stopping the person hurting my island.
I shake my head anyway, opening my mouth to speak, when a dark splash of red to the side of Cyrus catches my attention.
With our fingers still intertwined, she follows me as I keep my eyes locked on the ominous sight. Subconsciously, I know what it is, consciously, I’m holding out hopes of it being some expensive fabric caught up in the shrubbery from the high winds.
As we move closer, I know that theory is bogus.
A bird’s body lays dismembered in the long grass, the poor thing’s blood spritzed over the foliage. Instantly, sobs wrack through me at the loss of life. Who could be so vile as to do this to such an innocent creature?
My body shudders, as pain and grief wrack through me.
The one anchor point I have right now is the caring touch wrapped smoothly around my hand. I don’t want that hold to let go, but of course I’m not so lucky. The grip disappears.
Tears swim, blurring everything and washing it in a sea of red.
A body moves in front of me, before arms slide tight around my torso. The air that was already constricted, ceases to exist completely. Deep warmth surrounds me, settling into my bones. Even without being able to breathe, comfort is what I need.
