First Love/ Late Spring

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The tune that I whistled, kept me company in the desert. We had packed up camp, heading straight for the hulking mountains. A sliver of a purple shadow lined each one, permeating sunlight stabbing over from it's crevices.

I'd wished to stay stagnant forever in the abandoned ship but I knew it would be stupid to stay, especially with us just having escaped from Wicked. They could be right on our tail for all we knew and I didn't want to take any chances due to how 'special' I was to Wicked.

Still my joints ached in pain, sun beating down on weathered skin. I had taken pace next to Aris. It seemed as if the pale lanky boy had barely said anything after our escape. He remained quiet, perceptive, glowing blue fox eyes flicking back and forth.

I supposed that his silence could be a reaction to none of us paying him any mind, so I decided to. Using my elbow, I playfully nudged into him, waiting to see what he'd do in response.

He walked on, as if a breeze had lightly blew on his face, completely oblivious. So I decided to do it again. Again, nothing. Aris's face remained dull, smoothed over. I did it again.

"Why do you keep bumpin' in to me?" He took a step away from me and my obnoxious elbows. Embarrassment rattled through me and out spilled the apologies.

"Sorry." I fumbled over what to say, heat burning the top of my skin, the sun was not responsible this time. "I didn't mean to. I was just playin' around."

"Oh." Aris realized, my actions sinking in. "I get it. Like this, right?" He nudged back against me, goofy smiles flickering on both of our faces. "Sorry, sometimes I'm not the best with social stuff. You know, Rachel does stuff like that to me." His grin remained, crinkling up his face further. Who's Rachel? "She does this thing where she'll grab your hand and just kind of hold it all over it's-" He cut himself off sharply, creamy face paling. "Never mind. She did, not does."

Who was Rachel? What did she mean to him? Why was he suddenly awkward again, muttering something to himself under his breath?

A freight train realization slammed into me. It was obvious. All the answers were in front of me. Rachel was dead. Just like Gally.

"I had a Rachel once," I could almost see him in my mind, kissing me, touching me, loving me, nothing but warmth. "His name was Gally."

"Well, if he was anything like Rachel then he must've been a real nice guy."

"He was a jerk actually. He's the one who shot me. But I loved him. I still do."

"You loved him?" Aris walked adjusted his pack, leaning in down, letting curiosity devour him. "Even after he hurt you."

"I loved him more than words could possibly say." My body hung low, tightening up at thoughts of the lab, I replayed him shooting me. Over and over and over again. My throat started to constrict, feeling closed off.

"Why?"

"Because he cared about me. He really cared about me." The warmth the sun provided reminded me of his grasp. "You know how some people say they care about you, but you know that they'd screw you over so they wouldn't get pissed on in a split?"

"Yeah."

"Well that was the opposite of Gally." I reflected fondly on him, lips curling up. "That boy would've killed for me. He would've died for me." He did die for me. "He was always telling me how he'd never let anything hurt me, that he'd protect me always, and he did."

"But he shot you." Aris looked at me puzzled, fidgeting with his backpacks straps.

"Well in the end he was able to protect me from everyone but himself." I winked at him half heartedly, forcing the memories away. "Ironic, isn't it Ranger Rick?"

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑Where stories live. Discover now