A solar setting, the pink was splayed across the sky. I couldn't take my eyes off the ever shifting colors. There was a dark red that seemed to burn from the remenants of the sun and there was a soft grey that edged the affair. Maybe it wasn't so special a sun set, just that it was this one. On this day. This day I sit on the dusty savannah, the dusky red sand has worked it's way deep in my boots and through my thin layered clothes. An old but efficient gun lay on the brittle grass beside me, my hair was tied up in a high pony tail.
"Sure is pretty isn't it?" His voice was heavily accented and sexy – in a darker way. I looked over my shoulder and nearly jumped. It was him who I was attempting to avoid. Well, I was trying to avoid my mother and step father more but he was close up there.
"Yeah." I replied, letting a dreamy tone layer in my normally low but peppy voice. I buried my hand in the sand watching with feigned interest as the rough grains of sand slipped through my fingers and got lodged in my nails.
"You know, even with that thing you shouldn't be out here alone." He said with an air of authority, as if he knew so much more then the rest of us. I shook my head letting my bangs fall where they may even if that meant they were blurring my vision.
"I want to go home. Maybe if I make enough stupid mistakes they'll let me go." I smiled brightly. He laughed a bit and rubbed his cheek with his calloused finger.
"You'll die before they'll let you leave if that's your plan." He leaned against one of the few not prickly trees in the area. I didn't reply for a minute, letting his words soak in – maybe he would take them back. But of course he didn't, instead he lit up a cigarette and slipped the end between his fingers taking long puffs at the cancer stick.
"I'm more fitted for edgy fashion, bright lights and night clubs. Not for wild animals, guns and disease." I snapped, the edge in my voice sudden. "Give me one of those." I held my hand out – expecting him to hand me a cigarette. He didn't argue with me and gave me one of the white, neatly wrapped sticks. I waited for the lighter and it was slipped in my hands next. I lit the thing with practiced skill and slipped it between my teeth. I scampered to push myself up and grabbed wood and steel gun.
"Little girl is out to kill herself." The man rolled his eyes and grabbed the gun from me, smoke escaping his lips. I didn't reply verbally but glared at him. He smirked and checked the gun to see if it was loaded.
"I'm not that much younger then you." I growled, my voice edged with disdain. I pulled the cigarette from my mouth quickly and struck a pose, in a short skirt and black light the guys would be falling over me right now. He didn't seem fazed.
"25." I was expected to figure out the rest of course, the was twenty – five years old. And this twenty five year old had two guns draped over his back and was looking at me expectantly.
"17." I snapped back quickly. "Only eight years." He didn't reply at first. The next thing I knew the guns were back on the brittle ground and his lips were crushed against mine, I could feel his hand pressing against my thigh, mine wrapping quickly – awkwardly around his neck. He had me against a hard something – a tree or a rock or…to be honest I didn't care.
"You really think eight years is nothing?" He growled close to my ear. I shivered and noted briefly the sun was almost gone. His lips were back on my body, I could smell the still burning cigarettes, I brought mine to my lips and inhaled deeply – finishing the thing. I flicked it to the ground and stomped on it slightly, his hands were working on removing my shirt. His lips were warm against my body.
"Eight years…" He muttered again. And then he pulled away, fumbled quickly for a cigarette and shoved it to his lips, the lighter flickering against his face. A thick puff of smoke leaving his lips and he looked at me. I didn't shrink from under his eyes, my blue lacey bra pulling against my body. My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped revealing my striped blue and black underwear. Mussed hair complete the look.
"Eight years isn't that much." I said with as much courage as I could – forcing my lips to work properly. We didn't talk for a few minutes after that, he stood and puffed diligently at his cigarette and I stood tall – solider like – in the steadily cooling air waiting for him to do something. He looked back at me and paced over.
"Eight years." He pressed his cigarette into the side of my jeans, the inner part of course. I felt the fabric heat and ultimately burn but I didn't twitch, he pulled me against him and dropped his second cigarette, grinding his knee into my center. His lips crushed against mine for a second time and I wrapped my arms around his neck, my weight shifting to lean more against him. I felt my bra relax suddenly and he pulled away sliding the blue material off my body.
"Take…me…" I whispered into his ear. His reply was to push my jeans down off my body. A crackly muffled noise drew our attention.
"Hello…." The voice came from the radio clipped to his belt. He swore and grabbed the thing, pressing the button.
"Hey." His voice was gruff and dark.
"When are you coming back?" The voice responded in a frustrated cackle. He shook his head and grumbled something, pressed the button and spoke.
"Soon. Like now. We'll be back in a few." He clipped the thing to his belt and ignored the answering crackle. I stared at him and the threw my shirt at me.
"Get dressed. We're going back." His voice was short and stiff. I held up the shirt and then threw it to the side, choosing instead to shimmy my jeans down and step out of them. He watched me carefully – not sure what to do.
"End it." I smiled brightly and gripped my breast with one hand and let the other slide slowly down my cream stomach to my dark panties. He didn't move but watched me fall to my knees, the space between my legs spreading. He was right in front of me.
The rest happened fast, it all happened fast and it ended fast. With me moaning his name and him grunting – protection was the last thing in my mind. We didn't talk of a second as he lit up yet again.
"Get dressed." He snapped again and I quickly pulled my bra on, tugged my shirt down and slipped on my panties. I let my jeans rest on the ground longest and I don't know why. We started the trek back, he was marching us at a quick clip.
"If anyone asked…" He started.
"Depends on who asks." I cut him off quickly. My voice playful.
"If anyone asked that never happened." He grumbled quickly. "And if anyone asks it never happens again."
"Until I figure out what cabin is yours." I smirk and lick my lips.
"Until I figure out which one is yours." His voice is low and gruff again. I feel that shiver dance down my spine – the anticipation is going to kill me.