Chapter 12
Ariana
It’s early in the morning, but I have no idea of the actual time.
Villain stands a few feet away with his back turned while I balance most of my weight on my left leg. The ground is soft, and the air smells heavy with salt. Birds sing. Leaves rustle. And I urinate, cringing at how loud it is. Or maybe I’m just being self conscious.
It’s hard to go with him this close to me, but out here, I realize I’m gonna have to relinquish my privacy and my pride. I wipe quickly with a napkin, then turn back to him.
“Done.”
He nods, and I’m grateful he doesn’t say anything.
It’s quiet the whole way back to your spot, where we sit in silence.
It’s an odd kind of quiet, stretched between us like a rope I’m scared might snap.
Both of us keep looking up, scanning the sky like we can conjure a rescue plane through sheer will.
But nothing comes.
Time passes. How much, I have no way of knowing. Villain took off his Rolex last night. He said it was broken, frozen in time at the exact moment of the crash.
At some point, when the shadows have shifted slightly on the ground, I decide I can’t hold back anymore.
“I have this horrible feeling that nobody’s coming.”
His head jerks in my direction, his jaw tight. “Why the fuck would you say that?” he demands. “I done told you a million times. I’m famous. Ain’t no way the whole world ain’t out lookin’ for me right now.”
I almost laugh, it’s so ridiculous.
“It’s been…forty-eight hours?” I say, doing the calculations in my head. “If they were coming—“
“They’re coming!” he yells. “Damn. Do you ever think positive?”
“Positive thinking doesn’t change reality, Villain. We need to be realistic.”
“About what?”
“Where we’re sleeping tonight, for one. I don’t wanna get eaten up by bugs while I’m trying to sleep.”
He leans back, tilting his chin to the clouds, refusing to look at me. “Somebody gotta be coming. Maybe I should…fuck. I don’t know. I could find the little box thing and put it out in the open to get a better signal.”
I rub at my temple as a headache blooms behind my eyes. “That’s not how it works. The black box isn’t a cell phone. It doesn’t ping off towers. It’s…complicated.”
His eyes narrow. “Too complicated for my dumb ass, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You ain’t got to.” He blows out a breath. “Then what the fuck can we do?”
Frustration is bleeding through every syllable. I think for a minute, tired from mincing my words. “We can start by figuring out our food and water situation. We might need to start rationing. And we need to make tonight more comfortable. It’s hell sleeping on the ground.”
His knuckles go white around his water bottle before he hurls it across the clearing. The hollow plastic clatters against the earth, the sound echoing in the stillness, making me jump.
He exhales sharply, then mutters, “My bad, shorty. You know how immature I am.”
His sarcasm cuts me deeper than I wanna admit to myself.
Before I even realize what’s happening, the tears are streaming, hot and shameful.
My chest heaves with sobs I’ve been choking back ever since yesterday when he walked into the forest and didn't come out for hours.
I thought he was lost forever, that he'd left me to fend for myself in this strange place.
I don’t want him to see me like this, to get the satisfaction of knowing he affected me, but I can’t stop.
I guess I needed this.
When I finally calm down and glance up at him, he’s watching me. Really watching. No smirk. No expression at all, really. Just a deep, intense stillness that feels too intimate for my comfort.
“What you need me to do?” he finally asks.
I wipe my cheeks with the heel of my hand, trying to steady myself.
“I need you to prepare for the possibility that we might be here for a while. And…” My throat tightens, but I force the words out.
“Understand that I may look calm on the outside…I’m trained to look calm on the outside.
But inside…” I press my hand against my chest. “I’m terrified.
And when you fly off the handle, or argue with me when I’m trying to help, or cope, it just makes it worse for me. ”
He doesn’t move or speak. He just stares. The silence stretches so long, regret curls itself around my thoughts.
But then he nods once, his eyes softening slightly. “I’ll do the best I can.”
It feels like I’m seeing the first crack in his armor.
And that crack gives me more comfort than I want to admit.
Because the truth is, I need him out here. I needs his protection. I need him to treat me gently, even though we’re in what seems like the roughest place on earth. I need to feel safe. With him.
And that scares me almost as much as being stranded.