𝘼𝙐𝘿𝘼𝘾𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎 » 𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 ✓ [1]

IV

CHAPTER FOUR
YOU'RE THE NEW GUY, RIGHT?

I roll over the next morning to the sound of the coffee machine whirring behind a closed door. It took me a moment to register that another person was in my unit, all the events of yesterday slowly trickling back into the front of my mind.

I lay still for a while, watching a small colourful bird ruffle its feathers on my porch. Harsh dawn sunlight had already lit up the jungle and pulled steam up from the ground like weeds, suggesting today was going to be scorchingly hot. Meaning, the raptors were going to be in a shit mood. Meaning, Owen was going to be in a shit mood.

Fantastic.

Tumbling out of the purple sheets, stretching awkwardly as I plant my feet down, I quietly made way for the kitchen, opening the closed door softly and stepping out into the hallway.

To my surprise, Alex was wide awake and dressed, perched awkwardly behind the breakfast bar counter. He looked much better dressed for the compound in worn cargo pants, scuffed Doc Martens and a crumpled grey t-shirt. Even more surprisingly, he wasn't flicking through papers or a tablet. He sat with a book wedged beneath his elbow, watching the orange sun rise slowly over the jungle from the sliding doors.

My foot creaks under a floorboard, his head flinching in my direction. His shoulders sunk down into a hunch the moment he saw me, a little hair falling over the side of his face. He looked almost frightened. 'Morning,' he mumbles, so quietly that I could have barely registered it.

I'd thought about it a lot last night. I'd stared at the ceiling long enough that I had considered phoning Owen to ask if I had been too harsh on him, even if I already knew the answer myself. He had been sent to an entirely remote island for an insane internship with no one his age around him, and the only person that was had made him wash mould-ridden walls on his first day. Alex had probably never seen a dinosaur in his life up until now. He was still probably yet to see one.

Actions skim when they are light, sink when they are heavy. Those strange, comforting words I had once read or heard somewhere long ago, but seem to recall when a reminder was needed.