Grounded: ch. 2
Note: This is not at all in chronological order. Chapter 1 was a Memory, and chapter 2 is a Maybe.
Comment if you're cool.
.....
Holly stared into the distance. The sun was setting, pink and blue cotton candy, much as it had been the first night she and Varr had crashed to earth on this godforsaken island.
She was healing.
Her right wing lay tucked against her body, soft and warm, strong. Her left wing...
Well, she was healing.
Varr had taken good care of her from the very first night. He wrapped her gently in his arms and in his wings, keeping her warm when she was cold, absorbing her tears in his soft down when she cried.
She shivered softly in the chill air of the nighttime sea. If it wasn't for Varr...
Soft footsteps padded through the sand behind her. She felt them, rather than heard them. A warm hand gently brushed her neck, came to rest on her shoulder. His creamy milk chocolate skin accented her strawberry sunburned vanilla.
"Hey," he said, softly. "You doing all right?"
"I'm doing Neopolitan."
"You're what?"
"Nevermind."
"You and food, Holly... I swear."
She laughed softly at this, then sighed. Her eyes held a pain his heart would never feel. "Varr..." she said softly. "I'm so sick of all this."
"Sick of being here, you mean?"
"Yeah."
His hand caressed her shoulder, tracing her collarbone. He sat, then, in the sand beside her, his arm curved around her shoulders. "You want to talk about it?" he asked, gently.
"Varr... I'm just sick of it... sick of this stupid island, and my stupid wing, and being hurt, and not being home, and not being able to fly..." her voice cracked at this. "I'm sick of all of it! This is fucking shit. All I wanted was to be normal, to have a normal life, with normal friends... I'm sick of people not caring, and there's no one here TO care, and..."
"Sick of me?"
A pause.
"Oh, Varr..." Holly began to cry, then, heaving sobs that wracked her shoulder, pulling on her wing, which hurt. "I'm sorry..."
"Sh..." he murmured softly, taking her into his arms. "It's okay... I promise. Oh, Holly..."
She cried, half-formed words floating to his ears, the words of an abandoned child. Nonsense words. He just held her, through it all.
When she had finally cried herself out, the sky was a rich, deep purple. It would have been dubbed Royal Purple, in any child's crayon box. The first stars were beginning to shine.
"Ugh... I'm sorry." She wiped the rest of the tears off her face, and stared at the blackening horizon.
"You feeling better?"
"No."
"Oh, Holly..."
They sat there, staring at the stars, for some time. Varr rubbed her shoulders gently, willing some of the pain out of her back and into his hand. Even Angels could only take so much pain, though, and after a while, he quit absorbing, and just rubbed her back.
The faintest of smiles touched Holly's face, at this futile human method of comfort. She wondered why they gave massages to each other. It didn't heal anything. And yet... somehow, Varr's gentle touch helped. Perhaps not physically, but it helped all the same.
"Holly?" he asked.
"Hm."
"I need to tell you something."
She looked at him, then. His eyes were searching her face for something. Acceptance, maybe. "And what is that?"
"I... I love you, Holly. I just want you to know that."
"Oh."
She was quiet, then, and her shoulders stiffened. The waves beat in their patterns of seven against the shore, like his words repeated themselves in her mind. He said nothing more. She knew he wanted a response. She wasn't sure she could give it to him.
Holly sighed, softly. "Prove it."
Varr looked at Holly. Took her into his arms.
And he proved it.
He proved it for a few hours.
Holly was silent through it all. She had never been one to make much noise, at least not while doing this.
He was gentle. He took off her clothes, careful not to move her wing much, and he kissed her lightly, like a butterfly kisses a flower. His hands caressed her body, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her hips.
Holly wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled their bodies together, and they laid down on the sand. She moved her hips against his, feeling him growing hard through his jeans. She reached down to unzip his pants, and when his clothes were off, the butterfly fed.
She opened for him like a flower dripping with nectar. He pushed further and fruther into her, harder each time by degrees imperceptible to anyone but the two of them, and soon, the sensation crested like the waves on the beach beside them.
"There..." he said, in between breaths. "I love you..."
"I know."
"Now and Forever."
And she believed him.
"Now and Forever," she agreed, and for the first time, the island seemed a little more forgiving.