Elven Love (SAA Book 1) ✔

Part Nine

Everything hurt. When coming to his senses, Oren felt nauseous and tense. His legs felt like they were being pressed to needles and his head was fuzzy. His eyes wouldn't open. When he inhaled, his throat burned and chest constricted. Every part of his being longed for an answer to this feeling of misery, and any response that could bring relief was one worth considering.

"I think he's awake," muttered a voice from above Oren's ear. The elf was pressed up close to someone larger than him, muscles firm against his. His head rested against a warm, rumbling chest. Oren was grateful for the heat, even as he squinted away from the light pouring through the cracks of his eyes.

His eyelids felt heavy and stuck together, joints aching as he made a weak attempt to move in Clayton's grip. Soon defeated by an overwhelming fatigue, Oren wished he could go back to being unconscious. He felt helpless sitting here with weak muscles and weary nerves. Clayton reached down and gently shook him by the arm.

"Hey," he called softly, causing Oren to look up at him through dazed eyes. It burned to open them, so he simply let them rest again, feeling gentle wind billowing in from his right.

Oren's throat felt dry and awful, a bitter taste lodged at the back of his tongue. Trying to rid of the taut feeling, he made a few small, aborted gagging noises. He tried to sit up, but found himself barred by the human's bicep. Oren pushed at it weakly, perplexed.

"Where are -- what happened," he mumbled, words coming out as a veiled, raspy whisper.

"Yeah, he's awake," told Clayton, to someone he couldn't hear or see, "Hey -- it's okay. You're okay. I brought you back home... We're outside to get you some air." he stroked the side of Oren's head, palm brushing over his ear for a moment, making the elf shiver and huddle closer to the human.

Hot and vivid memories immediately flooded his brain; the sky island, vibrant animals, everything. He remembered a vicious plant erupting from within, which gave the poor thing chills just thinking of the commotion he caused.

Oren sat limply, muscles able to tense for only a moment before cramping. He felt the wind brushing past him as they stayed outside. He didn't know where outside, but now wasn't the time to question it. He wriggled, but Clayton's hands steadied his hips.

"Don't move, you'll only hurt yourself. Mom's getting you some water. Just sit for now." Clayton's voice split the silence as Oren continued to stay boneless in the other's lap.

Clayton loomed over Oren, blocking out the light from the sun shining over them. He gave the elf a doleful look. "Can you see me?" he asked.

Oren swallowed down the pain at the back of his throat and nodded, eyelashes fluttering every time he blinked. His face was contorted into worry, eyes strained behind glasses and mouth quirked into a frown.

"You seriously look wan," he brooded, causing Oren to reach a shaky hand up to his own face. His skin was burning velvet, pulse running miles under the pads of unsteady fingers.

"I look what?" Oren croaked, and Clayton laughed softly.

"It means you look really sick, idiot."

"Wh- then why didn't you just say --" his sentence was cut off by a coughing fit, and just then the atmosphere turned grave once more. The amusement and bubbly humor was long gone as Clayton rubbed the elf's arm as a form of support. Clayton was reaching the point of utter contrite. All the times he'd been harsh to Oren pounded down on him as he soothed the pale elf.

That's when the back door opened and his mother returned with a cup of iced water. With being out in the sun for less than a second, the glass began to sweat, beads of water raced down the glass. "Oh," Clayton perked up, "Oren, can you sit up? You need something in your system." he pat Oren's back as he gently pushed the elf up on his underside.

Oren groaned, knees quivering as he managed to sit, with Clayton's help of course. "Th-Thank you." he muttered, voice hoarse as he winced at the soreness of his whole body. Ava smiled warmly, handing the boy the cup before taking a seat on the ground next to them.

"I'm sorry." Clayton leaned into Oren as he spoke softly, breath feathering over his ear. Oren shivered and brought the edge of the cup to his lips. He took a shallow, almost experimental sip before drinking the contents in the glass.

"It's fine." he replied between deeper sips. His throat was less parched and he now felt like he could breathe the fresh air around him. It felt nice going down, and soon the cup was empty, sitting next to him. Still pressed up against Clayton's chest, Oren sighed with fervor and leaned into him. His head lolled back and rested at the crook of Clayton's neck.

The elf wordlessly wheezed, opening his eyes as they adjusted to the sunlight. His body shifted in Clayton's grasp, hips twisting and waist stretching as he laid between the human's legs. There was a silence, cool and beady until Ava broke it with a weary voice. "Why is- What happened to him?" she asked, the question lingering in the tense air as Clayton stiffened.

"Um," he blurted, "He started to.. He was-- he couldn't breathe. Next thing I know he's passed out on the floor?" Clayton reached a hand up to his nose and rubbed gently before returning the hand to Oren's belly.

"Uh-huh." Ava rolled her eyes.

»»---------««

Treacherous, dismal clouds sprawled across the evening sky. Their brassy glare drained the color from houses and roads, tinting the neighborhood bronze in faltering light. The scent of rain was thick and heady as a conspicuous stillness fell over the town, and in the silence came a low crackle of thunder, rolling across rooftops to the pitter-patter of a few light raindrops.

There was a pause; brief, but sure. Even the wind held its breath. A streak of hot silver then split the sky, and the downpour began. Through the still air came the first few low rumbles of thunder. The violent, unforgiving wind raced through the town and the rattle of loose window panes could be heard from all around the house.

Oren found himself shaken by the sequence of events, soon discovering a new fear of storms. The roof tiles of every house clattered and wiggled loose from the downpour.

Sure, the grass was thankful for the rain, but when it had enough, the water would relentlessly continue to pour over. The road was soon drenched in water, filling the spaces between small cracks in the pavement.

Clayton calmly sat on his bed and flung toys around the room to calm Nutmeg, fur puffed and eyes wide as she scurried. Oren sat on the floor, legs pulled up to his chest as his back rested against the bed. With every boom of thunder, he flinched and covered his ears, wishing to shrink into nothing.

Having noticed the fear practically oozing from the elf, Clayton sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed. "You can climb up here, ya know. Don't have'ta sit down there huddled into a little ball."

With that, Oren stood up with an ache in his back and whimpered. Staggering onto the plush bed, he found to be squished between the wall and Clayton's body. There was no possible way Oren could fit on the bed with him unless they were touching in some way.

"I forgot you haven't seen a storm before. How's it feel?"

Oren turned to Clayton, uneasy. "Scary."

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Thanks for reading Part Nine!

:) How'd I do on this one?