17. Sunny

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I scoop the net and catch three fish easily, thankful for the millionth time for our fish pond.

"You know, I sometimes feel bad for them," Harry says from behind me.

"It's them or us," I tell him, dumping them into one of Harry's baskets. "As you know, we haven't eaten any protein in days."

He wraps his arms around my waist from behind before laying his lips on the top of shoulder. The bare skin of his stomach feels warm and damp against my back.

I'm not surprised, considering the humidity we've had lately. When we first landed here, I never saw a cloud in the sky, and now it feels like they are closing in us, making the air muggy and thick.

"That's because someone can't keep her hands off of me," he whispers into my ear.

I chuckle softly and turn my body to face him. I set my fishing net down and rest my hands on the back of his neck. I shouldn't kiss him. Once I start, I never want to stop.

That's something I never had with Brett. His kissing always seemed pleasant enough—it certainly wasn't bad—but I could always stop. I never had a problem stopping. And in so many ways, Harry has shown me what I have been missing in my twenty years of life. He's shown me what could be.

"That's one way one of putting it," I tell him. "It's also been raining everyday."

He grins at me and shakes his head. "There were breaks in the rain. I think you were just too preoccupied to notice."

That is probably true. Harry hypnotizes me. The way his tongue caresses with mine, the way his fingers trail up and down my hip as we lie on our sides, telling each other all our stories, the way he looks at me, like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen—although that couldn't be true—I could get lost in him.

And honestly, why had I waited so long? All the times I wanted to kiss him, I didn't. All that time has been wasted now. Of course, I don't want to be hurt. But just because we are together, doesn't mean that I'm going to spend my life alone, pining after my long lost love.

I'm not going to love him. I refuse to do that to myself.

An added bonus is that there is no chance of Harry falling for me, either—not really. He's seen the world. He's slept with models. He's partied with celebrities. The idea that he would truly like me is almost laughable.

I look up at the sky and see it beginning to darken once more in the distance. I release my arms and bend down to reach the basket full of fish. "We should and get these cooked before the rain starts again. Hopefully the logs were dry enough and the fire didn't burn out." That would add at least five minutes to the task, even longer if I push Harry to try to start it.

I'm looking up at him as his eyes focus on something over my shoulder before going wide. A smile takes over his face. "Holy shit! Kiwis!"

I watch, confused, as he runs to the other side of the pond. It's a thin ledge next to a steep hill covered in underbrush. After my fall and being stuck in the hole, I've been weary of any drop offs, so I never go over there.

But sure enough, I see a batch or two of kiwis on vines spanning over a few branches. They blend in so well, I don't know how Harry even saw them—or why he seems so excited. It's always nice to find some new food here, but he's taking this to the next level.

Once he reaches them, he easily grabs one and doesn't wait to take a huge bite, skin and all.

"Did you know they help your immune system?" He yells from across the water. "And skin?"

I smile. He seems so young and joyful, like a kid with a birthday cake. Of course I knew that. I've studied Pomology, but I don't want to take away this moment for him.

Mouth still full of fruit, he yells again. "Of course you already know that."

I wonder at first if I'd vocalized some of my thoughts, but no. We just know each other's strengths and weaknesses, like any good team.

"Holy shit!" He's turned away from me now, peering down into the thicket of trees. "There's a whole grove over here."

Too bad we won't be able to reach them. That hill is way too steep to try to walk down. As I think this, I notice Harry's feet sliding forward. He's getting awfully close to the drop off.

"Harry..." But I'm too late. Just as I call his name, his footing slips and I'm left helpless, watching him tumble forward, disappearing into the branches. I can hear his "oof"s and "gah"s as I run over to where he was standing. I can't see him, but I hear the moment he hits the bottom with a loud thump.

"Ahh, fuck!"

"Are you okay?!" I yell, unsure if he is able to even hear me from where he is.

I'm relieved when I hear a "Yes!" come from below me. "Just some scrapes and bruises, I'm guessing. Not bad."

Thank God. The wind picks up slightly with the oncoming storm, and some palm leaves stirring to my left catch my attention. I walk closer and see a path leading downward. It was completely hidden before, and if I wasn't standing right here, I would have missed it.

"I'm coming down, Harry!" I step onto the weathered trail when a thought hits me. "Are you bleeding?"

What am I going to do if he is? I can't help him. In fact, he'll end up needing to help me if I glimpse even one drop.

"No!" I breathe a sigh of relief. "But you need to see something."

His tone is softer now, and distracted. After hearing his voice constantly for the past five months, I can tell the difference. Besides when we first met, Harry's been rock steady this entire time—never deterring from his positive outlook and optimistic ideas. What could have him so shook?

The ideas and possibilities swirl through my head as I continue my short journey. But by the time I turn the final corner, I'm coming up empty.

Harry is standing with his back to me, and I have to take a few steps before I can see what he's looking at. There is a familiar shape of large rocks on the ground, each about the size of a melon.

Harry breaks the silence. "I guess this explains what happened to who was here before us."

I nod, looking between him and the rocks forming the shape of a large rectangle. This is a grave.

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