Stay with me

Chapter 44 - Storm in Paradise

- The girl from the crashed plane ... redhead ... unconscious?

He pointed to the far corner there was a group of paramedics.

- All the wounded were taken there.

Omer ran in the direction indicated. His legs turned into cotton wool. Everything around trembled and doubled. The world seemed unreal, alien, colorless. Terrible. In this ominous gray, a red hair gleamed like a bright spot. Omer rushed to them and fell to his knees in front of the girl lying on the floor. She was covered up to her neck with a foil rescue blanket. The head was turned to the side and the wet hair covered the face. Omer removed them with a trembling hand and screamed with a terrible, hoarse cry.

It was not Defne.

He darted between the wounded lying on the gray granite, looked into faces, and the darkness inside grew thicker and deeper. It absorbed him and pulled him into its icy abyss.

She's not there. There is none of them. Nowhere. Cruel fate did not have mercy on him. Once again, it took away the most beloved, and, as if in mockery, it left him to live.

Why live? For what? He can't! Without her, he cannot...

Tears filled his face, blackened with grief, but Omer did not notice them. He didn't notice anything. Slouching and bowing his head, he left the building and walked towards the ocean. To the damned ocean that took everything from him...

- Omer!

The voice behind him was so warm ... so dear ... Not fully understanding whether it was an illusion or a reality, he slowly raised his head and looked around.

In front of him, just a couple of steps away, stood ... Defne. She was thin, in completely dry clothes, and with red hair scattered over her shoulders. The orange straps of the backpack stand out against the blue windbreaker. The bag strap is thrown over the neck and shoulder, and it herself dangles on the hip. His windbreaker is in her hand lowered along her body. Defne was as he last saw her, the moment she walked out the door of the boarding corridor.

Fearing that he was going crazy, Omer closed his eyes. And when he opened them, Defne stood in the same place and looked at him with a piercing, amber gaze.

He rushed to her. He embraced her with trembling hands, pressed her into himself, groaned, and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. His palms wandered over her back, shoulders ... squeezing the nape ... His face was buried in her hair. Omer closed his eyes, rubbed his cheek against them, and clenched his teeth until gnashing. Defne was here in his arms. Warm. Tangible. Alive. She smelled pungently of leaves, sea, and something else sweet and bitter at the same time. It was her scent. So dear to his heart. It penetrated his chest and drove the darkness and cold from it. Without words he was convinced - Defne is alive! Omer covered her pale face with feverish kisses. She, embracing him with thin, tenacious hands, caught his lips and incoherent words with her dry lips:

- Alive ... Almighty! Alive!

"Alive," she repeated and clung to him with her whole body.

"I thought you were dead," he moaned and squeezed his hands even tighter. "And then... I lost my mind... died..." He pulled back and looked into her face. - But how?

She took his face in her hands and whispered:

- I couldn't ... I couldn't fly away without you, - Omer shook his head in shock and her speech turned into a tongue twister. She was in a hurry to explain, to calm down. - You said, whatever happens in our life, whatever storms come, we will hold on to each other. I remembered these words and realized that I would not get on that plane alone.