A Pleasantly Violent Storm

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Bluff

I don't pull away this time. I won't. I don't even care about everything else. I don't care if it destroys me. Whitley is here. Whitley is beautiful. Whitley is incredible, and I'm not giving that up for fear of some stupid prophecy.

She might be my destruction, but at least I'll enjoy the fall.

I let this moment be my everything. Her body, her passion, her hopes, her desires. Her desperation for me.

This feeling, this pull, this need, I realize for the first time, is not like the pull of the sea. The sea wants you, so it can use you. So it can toss you in its waves, form you to its desires. Whitley, on the other hand needs me as much as I need her. She doesn't want to use me. She wants me to fill her the way she fills me. We're equals in this.

If this is the thing that ruins the rest of my life, it'll be worth it.

***

Several hours later, I still can't get enough of Whitley. She sits cross-legged in the sand, skirt bunched and pushed off to the side, exposing bits of her legs, as she braids together strips of palm fronds into a sort of rope. I should be doing the same, but instead find myself sitting behind her, playing with her hair, kissing her neck, whispering into her ear.

She laughs lightly and tells me I should be working, but she leans her head to the left, giving me more space to kiss and touch her neck and shoulder.

"I agree. I should be working. You're doing such a good job though." The rope in her hands unravels .

She leans back so her head is resting on my shoulder and sighs. "Maybe time for another swim?"

My cheeks hurt from smiling but I sigh as I look up to the sky. The sun is getting discomfortingly close to the horizon. "It'll be dark before we know it and I really want to have this shelter built before then." There are dark clouds visible in the distance, still far off, and I'm hoping it doesn't reach us, but if it does, we'll need some kind of cover.

She sits up and spins to face me. "Okay." Her words are light, but her eyes betray her disappointment.

"You can go though. I'll meet you in an hour or so?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'll stay and help. We can swim together later."

I smile, knowing that only makes it harder for me to actually work. I force my body up, though. The quicker I put this thing together, the more time I can spend with her.

I've already cut down all the bamboo shoots we'll need, we have a pile of frons. It's really only a matter of tying the structure together and then covering it with leaves. I ask Whitley's help holding the bamboo pieces that will act as beams while I use the twine I made to tie it together tightly. Then we do the next side. I'm careful to use the rope I made on the places that will have the most stress and hers on the places it won't matter so much if they come untwined.

"So have you thought much about how we'll get off this island?"

I look up to Whitley, wiping her hands onto her dress. "Not really. I've been... distracted." My eyes leave her body to meet her eyes.

She smiles at the look I give her and bites her lip. The shelter is only half complete but I approach her, until were only inches apart. I look her straight in the eye. "I don't know about you," I tell her as I reach up, running light fingers over her collarbone, up to her neck. "But I'm not actually eager to leave this place." I take another step until my lips are just grazing hers. She smiles again and it causes my stomach to do summersaults. It's a feeling I've become used to over the last few days. At first I hated it. Now I can't get enough.

"Everything is so simple here. Just you and me. Nothing else to get in the way."

"I suppose here isn't so bad," she says, as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into a deep kiss.

I push her up against a palm tree, my chest against hers and relish in the gasp she lets out and kiss her harder. A few moments later, I pull back laughing. "You are such a distraction."

"What?" she asks drowsily. Almost like she's drunk on the kiss.

"We're supposed to be working on the shelter." Right on cue, lighting brightens the sky in the distance followed by a small rumble. I'm not used to witnessing many storms on the sea, as fair weather seems to be a sign of welcome whenever I'm sailing. On land, I don't get the same treatment, and I suppose this tiny island is still land, technically— though it hardly feels it. Surrounded entirely by ocean, no civilization in sight. The sea is mere feet from us. I would have thought that would mean most of the same protections I get on a ship.

Apparently not so much, because those black clouds are approaching rather quickly.

Either that, or this is some kind of warning.

"Quickly," I tell Whitley. "Pile the palms onto the top of the structure." The top is tilted down so that water will mostly run off. The bottom is lifted off the ground a few inches so that even if the ground puddles a bit we'll stay dry. Now I'm just hoping it doesn't rise more than a few inches, because I didn't prepare for that.

While Whitley covers the canopy, I work in finishing the bottom. Then I aid her, and make sure as many of the palms are tied down at possible so the wind won't blow too many away. We finish just as the first rain drops fall.

For a moment Whitley tilts her head up towards the sky, letting the water fall on her face.

I watch silently. I find it amazing how every simple thing is magical to her. New. So much of her life had been suppressed. Makes me regret how I thought of her when we first met.

Are you worth saving? I asked her. What a moron. 

The rain comes down harder now, and she pulls her face away from the sky and towards me. I hold out my hand to her and she grabs it.

We sit in our little shelter for nearly an hour, just watching the sun set through the black clouds, listening to the thunder as is rises louder and louder. A few drops of cold water flowing through our makeshift ceiling here and there, but so far is working out well enough. I don't know how comfortable of a night it will be, though. We have a long time until the sun rises.

I consider the beautiful woman next to me and realize I know exactly how to make the most of it. I grab Whitley's waist and pull her onto my lap. She gasps and then giggles as she falls into my kiss.

The storm rages around us, but so long as we survive the night, I would be an idiot to complain for even a second. 

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