Page 32 of Fate Fiction

There was a lingering heat bubbling in my core from my brief foray into fantasy. It swirled inside me like churning lava, ready to explode if I let the surface crack too much. I couldn’t keep doing this to myself, just because he was here and polite out of obligation didn’t mean he’d ever show a millimeter of true interest.

I fiddled with the string of my bikini bottoms, gnawing at my lower lip. There was no chance I didn’t look absolutely petrified right now. Evan’s gaze was a laser through my skin, straight to my soul. Could he read minds? Did he somehow know all my crazy inner thoughts or was I that obvious?

My mind was cloudy, but there was no misconstruing the fact that his blue eyes were solely focused on me. Why couldn’t he fixate on the scenery instead? Why did I have to be the view he was taking in? I gripped the sides of the ledge to steel myself.

It had to mean nothing, because if it meant anything but nothing, that would be a massive problem.

Heart and head were at battle to meet his gaze. His reflection in the water showed his head turned towards mine. I couldn’t manage to look up.

Whatever he was trying to convey was utterly terrifying.

I double downed on my theory that this all entirely fabricated in my imagination. I was living in a massively detailed self-insert fic. Nothing more.

Ice cold water froze my brain as I disappeared off the ledge and dove back under the water. If only I had gills and could stay under here forever, I wouldn’t have to resurface and see what Evan was doing. I popped out of the water in a shallower area far from Evan, who remained on the ledge, dejected. Unlike Orpheus, I wouldn’t look back, instead I flipped onto my back and focused on the sky above.

Evan used the ledge as a ladder to climb out and hopped across the rocks to return to his backpack. I continued swimming. He pulled out his towel and wrapped himself in it. I continued swimming. I was aware of every one of his actions, but I continued to act like I was in my own world.

After eight miles hiking I knew I wouldn’t want to go for a run back at camp, but damn, did I need to. Evan remained perched on the rock, towel loosely hanging from his shoulders. He stared at the water in quiet contemplation.

“All good?” I posed nonchalantly, giving him a thumbs up as if it were a secret signal he could return back.

“Yeah, I got cold,” he shrugged.

A few minutes passed before he got up from his spot and began wandering to take more photos. I watched him intently, the way his back muscles subtly flexed when he raised the viewfinder to his eye, how he’d slightly cock his head to the side when trying to focus.

Evan existing as himself was fascinating to watch. It was like I was on a safari, he was wonderful to observe from a safe distance but the moment he inched closer I had a primal survival instinct kick in, and that instinct told me to flee as quickly as possible.

He turned again to face me. I had to break the shell. I smiled at him, a true warm smile rather than the small glints I had given him previously. He returned the expression and once again raised his camera towards me. Rather than cower, I decided to embrace it. It truly was sweet, him using me as subject matter as though I were a part of the landscape itself.

“Do you want to head back?” I called from the water.

“Do we have to?”

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“I’d actually like to stay here a bit longer then, if you don’t mind,” he said warmly.

I didn’t mind at all, this was actually my preferred outcome but I couldn’t exactly express that and feel like I was forcing him to hang out with me.

I swam to the edge of the swimming hole and climbed out. There were flat rocks we could lay out and tan on, so I grabbed a sandwich, my towel, and book, and padded my way across.

“I made you a sandwich too, don’t be mad if it got crushed.” I swung the flattened sandwich back and forth to show the damages.

“You made me a sandwich?” he asked brightly.

“Don’t have too high of expectations, it’s an extremely juvenile American peanut butter on white bread situation.”

He laughed at that and pulled it out of my bag, eating the entire thing in two bites.

My towel was warmed from my backpack sitting in the sun, and I stretched out on it to let the sun dry me off. A shadow passed above me, shrouding me in darkness. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know what, or who, it was.

I wanted to curl myself up as small as possible and away from him, but the sun felt so nice, and the damage was already done. First, my body freshly showered in the towel, now my winter pale soft stomach reflecting the sun’s rays.

Evan spread his towel out next to mine, and once again the self conscious teenager creeped in. I tried to not think about him seeing me splayed out in my bikini. I was thinking about myself too much, bodies were rarely so memorable that someone would so much as think about them after seeing them. He then began whistling again. The same tune. It was obviously an absent-minded tic, albeit an annoying one.

“That ‘ditty’ again, huh,” I lowered my sunglasses and turned to him. He stopped again and turned his head in kind.

“God, sorry. It’s like second nature at this point.”