𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢

𝟸𝟺. 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗

He keeps his word.

You smile. No. Correction. You've been smiling--grinning like a damn near idiot, and you haven't been able to stop. Not since you woke up to his large body weighing down the side of your bed this morning. Your cheeks have gone numb, and you've never been so damn grateful to feel nothing.

"Go ahead, Bambi." Jean taps the back of your hand three times again and then signals with the top of his head toward the entrance. "Head inside. I'm right behind you."

It's his turn to follow you.

Just like that, your heels unbury from the small sandy hills, and body jolts forward, unable to wait for a second more.

As you step through the gaping hole, entering into this secluded space, with the crashing ocean at your backside in the nearish distance, the air you're breathing too much of and the sand you're finding too much comfort in have become somewhat cooler in temperature.

The deeper you travel, the wider your eyes expand and the tighter your heart squeezes around itself. Your head moves side to side, up and down, and all around, taking in the layers of sedimentary rock you're completely surrounded with that hold the age of this spinning planet in each indentation and imperfection it has.

Diving deeper toward the center of the sandy cave, with Jean trailing a couple of steps behind just as he said he would, your arms cross over your chest, an unthinkable reaction to the sudden coolness embracing you, thanks to the lack of sun.

Inhaling weeping, your nose pulls heavenward. Above you is completely skyless, the powdered clouds and the way they freckle the cyanic blue that's color seems to be brighter, more alive, as if it were breathing, when colliding with the sea have all vanished. There is no existence of outer space in your line of lifted sight, only the arching stone partnered with stalactites that hang down like the arms of fig trees, making it seem as though they are pointing down at you, aware of your presence and welcoming you in with their sawtooth arms.

Their tips, speckled with green algae clinging on for life, are damp with the lingering sea residue, wearing them a little bit darker in those areas. Within seconds, it's as though you've been swallowed whole, and you have no want to escape.

Attention dropping, you spin around yourself a couple of times like an eager dog chasing its tail, taking in every inch of your surroundings all over again. Right now, you're too in awe to speak—adoring this rabbit hole you just fell into a little bit too much for being something that's nothing but a simple thing that nature coughed up by the erosion of ocean waves and passing of time.

Jean holds quiet, too. Allowing you to witness yet another thing you haven't before. Yet another thing that he's entirely responsible for guiding you toward.

He is granting you your dreams, and it seems, even the dreams you didn't even realize that you had.

Teetering back and forth on the edges of adoration and gratitude with a warm sensation in your chest that's rising and coating your throat, you part from the center and zig-zag with each trailing step until your feet pull you toward the far right. You trail there, walking along the worn rock with an extended arm, needing to touch your surroundings in order to remind yourself that you're here. That all of this still is real.

And that you are, too.

It's quiet for a handful of fleeting seconds. Just you, your thoughts, your captivated eyes consuming all details that your mind breaks down as sheer beauty, and the comforting, protective presence lingering in the shadow of you.