Translucent (Solangelo AU)

7. The Lock is Broken

Everything in my body was frozen; I still hadn't dried yet and it was painfully noticeable. My socks and shirt had long been abandoned, figuring that they wouldn't offer much heat in their condition. The coldness of the air clutched tightly onto my vulnerable skin, causing fitful shivers to haunt my sleep. Though we couldn't often afford heating in the winter at home, at least we had blankets and could light the fireplace. Here, all that was offered was miles of empty nothingness that was deliberately hidden behind veils of darkness. Without our flashlights, we may as well have been blind.

I could almost feel my lips turning an unnatural shade of icy blue, coloured by the fog that could only be my breath. Every second my mouth remained open, my saliva stiffened, as if it were afraid of the air now that the temperature had dropped increasingly. It was like a drought had taken over inside me, and I was left feeling tired and thirsty. My mind reached for the canteen, but my body stopped it. We could only be practical. We would be walking for an entire day, we couldn't afford to be dehydrated. It wouldn't be worth it.

If only it hadn't been hours that I lay awake, throat parched and fingers numb, I would be able to restrain myself from doing something I would regret. Alas, I was drained like an empty lake that yearned to be filled. Would a traditional dance restore what used to compose of me? I highly doubted it. Only the sleep that I wished would come would dare replenish my withered fragments and help me bloom and defrost after a harsh winter.

Without the ability to see, I could feel Will wasn't fairing any better, himself. His sharp breaths came out pained and ragged, as if the effort tore a hole through his windpipes. I didn't know how to help him; I wasn't the doctor, he was. All I could do was suffer with him and hope he took it as sympathy.

I cuddled my cloak closer to my frame, sitting up against the wall with my bare heels digging into the rocks and cement beneath them. The ground was cold, the walls were cold, my damp hair hardened and pressed against my forehead. For some reason, my nose was the worst off. I felt the cold radiating from it without having to touch it. Breathing through my mouth made no difference.

I bit my lip so hard I thought I might draw blood, trying to block out the stinging that invaded me. The silence was almost as bad.

"Nico," Will whispered, nearly making me jump out of my skin. The way he said my name, emotion and pain and exhaustion mingling with it and sending a fresh wave of chills down my spine. Then, the whole world brightened as he turned on his flashlight, setting it face-up on the ground next to him. It was strong enough the illuminate our makeshift-camp (that really only consisted of a knapsack, a couple canteens and our wet, discarded clothes), and every detail in his face became apparent. The colour in his rosy cheeks and red nose mixed into his freckles, making them almost unnoticeable, his hair clung to his sharp, sleep-filled features, and his pink lips were chapped and swollen.

"Yeah," I replied in a daze, my eyelids growing heavy. His blue eyes searched mine and I couldn't bring myself to tear away my gaze. It was like he was holding me in place, freezing time as the frigidness froze my toes. His look alone held so much weight, so much capacity, that it showed every thing he wasn't saying.

"You look cold." He didn't move an inch and neither did I. I didn't know how to answer, didn't trust my words to muster up anything other than yeah, so I just nodded. Slowly. My head bobbing through the motions but I couldn't feel anything. And then I felt Will. Because he was there. Because I was weak. Because I was cold and I wanted to be warm. I wanted to be in my living room at home, the fire roaring from the bed of coals as it heated my family and I. I wanted to help my mum pick tomatoes from her garden and plant flowers in the spring. I wanted my dad to take me to the park and play catch with me because he couldn't afford to put me on a real baseball team. I wanted Bianca to yell at me to turn down my music and tell me how my outfits never matched even though all I ever wore was black. Most of all, I wanted to see Will smile his goofy grin and pull me into his arms and tell me that everything would be okay. I never had very many friends, I wouldn't even know what to do if I ever got one, but somehow, that was okay. It was also okay to admit that friends are important and accepting them in your life might just be the salvation you were looking for. Was Will my salvation?