Wrecked

The girl next to the fire

"I was on the way to Hawaii to go to my older sisters funeral." Jesse repeated himself, his words catching me off guard. I hadn't even seen him sitting by the fire.

After Jesse's confession the group had all drifted away to where they were going to spend the night.

I'd just come from the med area, where I'd treated Cara and Mason before the two of them drifted off to sleep as well.

There was almost a hushed silence hung in the air, the sound of waves crashing softly onto the shore sung together with the birds and rustles of the trees above us.

For a first time in forever there was no voices. Although I was surrounded by people I'd never felt more alone on that island and I couldn't help but pause to soak it all in.

I was making my way to the shore, preparing myself to sit and gaze up at the stars until it was my turn to take watch.

But that all changed when Jesse's voices interrupted me. He was sat on the ground, his back up against the stumps we had all been sat on just a hour ago. He held a stick that was poking into the fire.

This hair hung over his forehead and dry blood decorated his features but I just couldn't ignore his eyes. For the first time since I'd laid eyes on this boy he looked weak.

His eyes wouldn't met mine, but I could just feel it.

I couldn't stop my feet from moving to his side. I couldn't stop myself from sitting right next to him. I couldn't stop myself from brushing our shoulders right up against each others. I didn't want to stop myself, being close to him just came as second nature.

I did, however, stop myself from reaching out with any real sort of comforting gesture. My fingers itched to reach for his and lace them together, I ached to comfort him- to take away his pain. But I knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

I didn't even flinch as I planted next to him, not once wavering from his spot, his eyes fixated on the flickering flames.

We sat like that for a while, his eyes forward and mine on him. It stared just trying to identify what it was that had him looking so broken, but then I couldn't look away. I surveyed each line, each cut and spot of blood. My eyes traced over his furrowed brows, his hung mouth and his haunting eyes. I watched as his tongue ran over his lips, it did nothing for the splits and blood covering them.

But my eyes were now locked onto his hair, the curls that had fallen over his eyes. They danced in the wind, getting tangled with each other as they moved. I watched as a single curl, the same curl as always, fell over his eyes. The wind did nothing to brush it away and neither did Jesse. So this time I couldn't help myself from giving into my urges.

I slowly raised my hand before delicately brushing it back up and away from his forehead. This pushed back a large bunch of his hair from his face to reveal the stitches I had put there not too long ago.

Still, Jesse showed no signs of movement. Not even as my hand hesitated in his hair, pushing back more of it, hair that wasn't even in the way. Just because the sensation was something I longed to do whenever I was near him.

A small sigh escaped my lips when I had to drop my hand and before I could do so a swift movement on his behalf lead to his hand wrapped firmly around mine.

He held my hand to his chest, his thumbing working over the back of it. This made my move my body sideways to face him, in order to compensated for the angle my arm was being held.

His right knee was propped up and my body was all but pressed right up against it as his grip on my hand only tightened.

Just from this simple move I could already feel his body releasing from it's tensed state. I could feel his breaths coming out easier, I could even feel his features soften up.