The Ones We Love #2
There’s only silence in response. Even the chaotic chorus of birds and bugs I’d expect to hear in the woods is absent.
The wood groans under my weight, threatening to give way as I step onto the porch.
The front door is partially open, swinging easily with a nudge from my foot.
Darkness greets me, along with the musk of dust and decay that tingles inside my nasal passages and down my throat.
I take a hesitant step forward, holding a fist over my mouth to stifle a cough.
Every hair on my body raises, alerting me I’m not alone, even though I can’t see anything.
My legs shake, struggling to take another step into the dark.
Something skitters across the room, and I gasp, leaping away.
I search the room vehemently, desperate to find the source, even as my heart thunders in my chest. My eyes land on the unmoving outline of a person in the far corner of the room.
“Hello?” I call again, a little louder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would be in here. I’m...” My voice trails off as the outline shifts closer.
“Then why did you call out to me?” The person’s voice cracks, and they clear their throat. Their tone is scratchy but delicate, direct but uncertain.
“What?” I ask, surprised.
“If you didn’t expect anyone to be here, why did you call out to me?” the voice barks, but it ends with a giggle.
“I...” I stutter, simultaneously terrified and baffled. “I’m Shiloh, and I’m lost. I was just looking for somewhere to hide.”
“A little odd to be hiding if you are lost.” There’s a scratching noise before a small flame illuminates the room. A woman stands in the center, lighting several candles before speaking again. “You must be cold,” she says, observing me with distinct hazel eyes.
The flecks of gold, interlaced through the warm brown of her irises, seem to dance in the candlelight’s reflection. I’m so mesmerized by them, I don’t realize she’s still talking.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
She’s barely said anything to me, and I’m already not listening.
Charlotte would scold me if she were here.
She was constantly nagging me about my wandering thoughts.
“Did you ask me something? Your eyes—I’ve never seen anything like them. ”
The woman chuckles, clucking her tongue and stepping into the light.
The outlines of her nipples protrude through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
A familiar warmth spreads between my legs as her breasts sway while she laughs.
I can’t look away, watching her ethereal movements; her body seems to slide through the air as she moves towards me.
She reaches a thin hand toward my face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
I draw quick sips of air into my lungs, one right after the other, until I’m lightheaded.
“You’re the first person I’ve seen out here,” I murmur.
“I’m Lottie,” she whispers. “This is my family’s cabin, but I’ve been the only one here for quite a while.”
“Lottie,” I repeat breathlessly. I want to reach out and touch her, just to be sure I’m not hallucinating, but my hands remain frozen at my sides. Like she can read my mind, Lottie giggles, running her hands down my arms before interlacing our fingers.
“You are cold.” She nods, affirming her previous statement. Lottie looks at me questioningly for a moment before stepping backward, tugging at my hands. “Come sit.”
“Are you real?” I blurt, blinking several times and waiting for her to disappear. I immediately regret the words as soon as they leave my lips, but she only laughs again.
“Don’t worry, you’ll feel right as rain once you’re warm again,” she says, turning away from me to throw logs into a cobwebbed fireplace.
“I’m afraid there’s not much to eat here, but I’m sure I can whip something up.
I went gathering this morning for the few things I’m able to scavenge this time of year.
” Her voice becomes smoother the more she speaks, flowing effortlessly until it’s almost singsong.
My eyebrows pinch, taking her in until my brain collects enough evidence to be convinced she’s not a hallucination. I still can’t quite wrap my head around this situation; endless questions linger at the edge of my thoughts. “You really live out here all alone?”
Lottie’s face falls, her eyes glassy with fresh tears. “I wasn’t always,” she whispers, voice cracking. “My family...”
“It’s okay!” I interject, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. “You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to!”
She sniffles, wiping a finger under each eye and then on her dress. “Love is a curse, Shiloh.”
My name coming from her lips makes my heart skip a beat before slamming into my throat.
I process the rest of what she said and sigh, leaning back into the chair.
Love is a curse. If nothing else, we have that belief in common.
My soul aches thinking about our shared pain—about Charlotte.
“It is,” I finally agree. “For me and for those I love.”
Lottie nods, staring into the fire. “Yes, we always end up hurting the ones we love the most, don’t we?”
My head snaps forward, gawking at her for several seconds while I struggle to find my words. “Yes,” I croak, leaning to place my head in my hands. “Or, at least, I do.”
Soft footsteps shuffle across the dusty wooden floorboards until Lottie crouches between my knees.
Her bewitching hazel eyes peer up to meet mine, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
My core tightens, liquid heat flooding between my legs as her hands grip the tops of my thighs.
“Stay with me tonight,” she beckons, more plea than question.
Any argument I might have dies in my throat when she presses a cheek to my knees. She releases a hiccupped sob, and my hand instinctively moves to rub her head. My fingers tangle in her wavy chestnut hair as they roam through it.
“I don’t want to be alone.” The confession slips past my quivering lips. My body tenses, bracing for her rejection, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she presses closer to me.
“You don’t have to be.” Lottie stands, locking eyes with me. Her hands grasp mine, pulling me forward until she can wrap her arms around my waist.
I take a deep breath, inhaling her scent of lavender, moss, and rain.
It’s like breathing in the air of the delicate place between winter and spring, where death becomes life again.
Neither of us says another word as she uncoils from me to guide us down the dark hallway.
She opens a door at the end, leading to a bedroom.
Hesitancy flickers beneath the primal need swarming in my center.
This all seems too unlikely: the berries, the cabin, the beautiful woman alone in the woods with her hand in mine.
Maybe I died last night, eaten whole by whatever was out in the woods?
Or maybe this is some final fever dream before I succumb to hunger and exposure?
It doesn’t matter, I suppose. If this isn’t real, I should thank my brain for this wild hallucination keeping me from the truth of dying alone.
Moonlight streams through the single bedroom window, scattering across the floor as it passes through the dirty panes of glass.
Lottie turns to face me, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Wordlessly, she pulls down the shoulders of her nightgown until it rests just below her bare breasts.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, shifting my weight from foot to foot. She’s beautiful. A pang of need zips like lightning through my body, striking my core.
The thin fabric clings to her hips, falling further as she takes slow steps in my direction until it lands on the floor.
She steps out of it, one leg at a time, before using her foot to fling it across the room.
Her movements are feline, like she’s stalking her prey.
My heart races, and I’m unable to decide if the feeling rising inside me is the urge to run towards her or far away.
I blink, and she’s standing in front of me. Her fingers delicately curl under my shirt, brushing against my skin and sending waves of desire crashing into me. I need her hands on me more than I need to breathe.
“Shiloh,” she coos into my ear.
My entire being ignites as she runs her hands up my torso, removing my shirt. Lottie’s palms find my breasts, squeezing them gently before her thumbs run over my nipples. A shiver works down my spine, and I lean into her touch.
“Lottie,” I gasp, reaching for her waist. My hands grip her soft curves, pulling her hips toward mine. This has to be a dream.
Her lips crash into mine, sending white spots dancing across my vision. She wraps one leg behind mine to keep me from stumbling back, deepening our kiss and working her tongue past my lips. I intertwine my tongue with hers, staying locked together as we clumsily find our way to the bed.
We’re a tornado of limbs and tongues, pawing and sliding against each other.
Somewhere in the chaos, all my clothing ended up on the floor.
Lottie strokes her hands down my torso, moving from my breasts to my stomach before finding their way between my thighs.
She cups my ass with one hand, tilting my hips up.
The other slides through my folds, twirling her fingers through my arousal.
“Your body is weeping for me,” she says with a smile before sucking my wetness from her fingers. “Can I make you cry for me too?”