Chapter 7 #3
I take a sip of water and settle myself on the ground, my knees bent in front of me.
It’s getting cooler, and I let my hair down to keep my neck warm, wrapping my arms around my legs and hugging them in.
The sun is huge in the sky, a circle of orange flame jostling through clouds streaked with pinks and purples.
The colours are astonishing, rippling before my eyes, ever-changing.
I am lost to its beauty, completely captivated.
If I never see another sunset again, this one would be enough.
I consider trying to take a picture of it, but I know I could never quite capture its magnificence.
Better to simply sit, and watch, and remember.
It takes its time sliding down towards the horizon, huge fingers of gold spreading over the landscape as the sun makes its last stand.
The fields and hills come alive, the sea sparkles, and the whole world feels transformed.
It’s so dazzling that I realise I’ve been holding my breath, enraptured by the sight of this perfect moment when day sinks into night.
I sigh out loud and shake my head. I don’t care how tough the climb was. I don’t care that I’m going home in twilight. I don’t care that I’m now shivering. That was so worth it.
I’m about to climb back up to my feet when a voice comes from behind me.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’
I go suddenly dead still, my body and mind flicking straight from peace and serenity to sheer panic in a split second.
My hands clench into fists, and my fingernails cut into the flesh of my palm.
I suck in a desperate breath, and the familiar highlights reel runs through my mind: death, disaster, doom.
They’ve finally found me, here of all places.
Nobody will hear me scream apart from the sheep.
I know I should be choosing between fight and flight, but something about my fear response is broken. I always, always react like this. I don’t fight, I don’t flee. I just freeze. I bite the inside of my cheek to shock myself out of it, and manage to turn my head to one side.
‘Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s Aidan. We met a few days ago.’
His tone is calm and gentle, his words spoken in a deliberately reassuring cadence.
He walks up beside me, his hands held out in front of him, like I’m a scared animal.
I suppose I kind of am. The light is fading, casting his face in a strange otherworldly glow.
He does indeed look, as Cherie might say, a bit Halloween-y.
I slowly start to relax, feeling the coiled springs of tension unravel themselves inside me.
My fists unclench and my heart rate tumbles back down to that of a normal human being.
I still feel slightly sick in my stomach, and I’m blinking a lot to try and clear my mind.
I start to stand, as he reaches out a cautious hand to help me to my feet. I’m shaky and I appreciate it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, feeling embarrassed now rather than terrified. ‘I… Uh, well, I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’
He laughs, deep and loud, his hand lingering on mine for a few seconds more than was needed.
‘Well, I guess I can’t argue with that. I’d offer to rectify the situation, but it really is getting cold out here.
You look freezing. Are you sure you’re okay?
I should have made more noise, or shouted from a distance instead of sneaking up on you like that…
but you just looked so peaceful, watching that spectacular sunset, and I didn’t want to disturb your moment. ’
As he speaks, he takes his fleece jacket off, and wraps it around my shoulders without asking.
I should object, but it’s so nice and warm that I don’t.
It smells good, masculine and clean, and my nostrils flare a little at the scent.
It’s only when I’m not shivering that I realise quite how cold I was.
‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully. ‘You’re a gentleman. I feel like an idiot now for leaving my jacket with my bike. And please don’t apologise for scaring me. I… Well, frankly I’m easily scared. It’s not your fault. Long story.’
His eyes meet mine, and even in the dusk they are bright and piercing. I could stare at those eyes almost as long as I could stare at that sunset.
‘Right. Well, I love a good story. There’s a pub not too far from here. Can I persuade you to join me for a drink?’
‘Ah, no, I don’t think so, thanks. I have work to do, and it’s late, and?—’
‘And you can’t think of any more excuses?’
He smiles at me, and I worry that my knees will actually buckle. That smile should come with a health warning, and I suspect he’s totally aware of how lethal it is.
‘Well, Aidan, I don’t actually have to think of an excuse, do I? I can simply say no.’
He looks mock-upset and holds his palm to his heart, staggering around as though I’ve shot him. It’s silly, and it makes me grin.
‘Please?’ he says, once he’s stopped playing around. ‘Truthfully, I haven’t spoken to another human being in two days. You’d be doing me a favour.’
Ha, I think, I know that feeling. Maybe he’s a writer too, and spends his whole life cooped up in front of a screen. Apart from the beachfront runs. And the sunsets. And the trips into the village to buy pounds and pounds of rare and bloody steak.
‘Well, when you put it like that, maybe,’ I reply. ‘As long as you answer one question.’
‘Anything. I’m an open book.’
‘Are you a werewolf, a vampire, or any other kind of supernatural creature? Because the ladies in the café have their doubts that you’re entirely human…’
He laughs again, and it is obviously something that comes easily to him. I like that. I like people who don’t overthink, who just embrace the moment. They have no clue how lucky they are.
‘Well, now, that would be telling. I kinda like the idea that I’m a man of mystery. It makes me a lot more interesting than I actually am… Now, can I interest you in the pub, m’lady?’