Scorched

33

She gives him another smack, and still he doesn't wake up.

Well fuck her. Men are like animals, they only wake up when there is a reason to. Pity she didn't have food on herself or else she would of bathed herself in it to wake him up.

The simple action of lifting her hand to smack him caused her entire body to scream in agony. Each muscle, tendon, ligament and even bone hurt to even move. She got hit hard. Almost hard enough to knock some sense into her. It brought back memories of Ezra and herself falling over his cliff, but the ground did more damage than the water. And the water was hard itself.

Correction. Bone ground.

She fell and fell for who knows how long and had to have passed out after hitting the ground, because she woke up in another cave with a floor this time cascaded with many little domes of bone. She could tell some were human, and others seemed too eerily fabricated to look like human bones.

She was lucky she didn't penetrate a bone standing upright, like a guard she spotted a few meters away. The room was just as dark, with once again another narrow doorway with light peeking through. But she didn't go there just yet.

The cave is half the size of the upper portion, with a pool of bones as a floor. Dry, old and stained bones. It stank of acid and burning flesh. Not very satisfying to the nose, and it burned and dried her throat.

She could spot a few more bodies laying lifeless on their backs. She refused to look further, to test for pulses, or a flicker of eyelids or even a rise and fall of a chest. She refused. Some didn't follow her. She could already tell.

She only checked for Terrance. And he is alive.

His pulse is weak but there. He would probably feel the same, since they both survived a massive fall. She could already picture the amount of bruises on her body, especially on her back. Yellow and dark purple bruises. Now where was Ezra when she needed him? The damn idiot.

She gives Terrance another smack straddling his hips in the process, even though it took multiple breathes and teeth grinding, like a woman giving birth, to get to this point. Her lower back felt stiffer than an erection.

"Terrance you idiot! Wake up." She shook him this time.

She couldn't even check his pupils nor his skin which felt clammy and cool compared to the sticky hot air here— in the dark.

She palms his body starting at the back of his head and then pressing and going down the side of his ribs and back to search for any open injuries. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt nothing. But that still meant nothing, he could have gotten injured internally.

His mouth opens and Cleo leans down placing her ear over his mouth. He breathed warm air into her ear. She already felt a tiny bit better.

She smacks him again. And again and again. His head moved left and right as she did, she would laugh if the situation was different.

She smacks again. One big hard one. Her hand burns from the hard skin contact, but it utters a low groan out of him through his mouth.

"Terrance? Wake up!" She shakes his body.

She might understand why Genevieve never allowed her any healing lessons.

She grinds her teeth tasting sweat dripping from her fringe into her mouth. Her hair is plastered onto her head. It was that hot. The feel of Terrance's body beneath hers doesn't do any justice either.

He groans again, and Cleo could see his eyes flickering open. Slowly he started blinking, or even squinting if she could see correctly and looks up at her with slitted eyes.