~•~
Atlas lays flat on his stomach, a pain worse than anything he has ever experienced coating the entirety of his upper body. The sand sticking to his chest and arms prevent him from moving in any direction, the tiny grains digging into his inflamed skin with every twitch of his muscles. Atlas knows this is a less than defensive position, but he can't bring himself to sit up.
Cally is currently bathing, so he couldn't follow her there anyways. This allowed him the time to relax on his own, or more accurately, wallow in his pain. This is unlike anything he has experienced before and awaits impatiently for Cally's return. He tells himself he wishes for her presence so he can once more keep an eye on her, but the truth is that he hopes she has an answer to whatever ails him.
Soon enough, he hears soft footfalls padding lightly on the sand. He releases a long held breath as Cally's slight form slips in through the flap of the tent. Her eyes immediately flick to his form, and he is startled to see them widen in horror upon seeing his body.
"I told you to come inside earlier yesterday," she accuses, kneeling by his side.
"What are you talking about?"
"Yesterday when you were working on the raft I said you should take a break and finish it tomorrow. You replied something along the lines of I know what I'm doing, but clearly I was right."
Atlas groans, letting his head fall against the sandy floor. "I don't see how that has anything to do with this... with this problem."
"You have a sunburn," Cally deadpans. "Your skin is so translucently white I'm surprised this hasn't happened before."
Atlas grunts in reply.
"Just... stay here a moment. I'll get you something."
He grunts again.
Exiting the tent, Cally shakes her head with a small chuckle. He gets points for being determined, but his stubbornness got in the way. She retrieves a small bottle of lotion kept in the chest, still forever thankful for its discovery.
When she returns, Atlas is still in a prone position. Her expression morfs into pity the longer she gazes at his red and swollen skin. He will be lucky if it doesn't blister. She kneels gingerly by his side, hesitant to begin applying the lotion.
"Is it alright if I spread this on your back?" She asks.
"Will it make it feel any better?" He replies.
"Well, yes, it will feel better afterwards, but it might hurt when I touch you."
Atlas releases a long, drawn out breath. Perhaps a little temporary pain will be worth the eventual relief. He clenches his fists into the sand, his eyes squeezing shut. "Alright," he mutters.
Cally squeezes a single line down the center of his back. Atlas almost flinches at the cool feeling. Cally takes a deep breath before gingerly laying her hands on his upper back, tentatively rubbing circles into the inflamed skin.
Atlas refuses to let himself squirm as the pressure of her hands stings worse than the tentacles of a jellyfish. The substance is cold and soothing beyond relief, but the weight of her palms is less than welcome. Cally notices his fists clenching in the sand and she cringes internally. She has mixed feelings about her current situation.
She has never done anything like this for anyone else. The closest she has ever been to something like this is applying sunscrean to her younger brother's back. This is entirely different. Part of her feels wrong in a way for venturing to do something like this. She would never touch her male friends like this. Cally was always a girl to keep her hands to herself. She hadn't even had a boyfriend for goodness sakes! And here she is, spreading lotion on the back of an adult male. But does she even consider Atlas a friend? No, they are far from friends. The two are reluctant companions at best. He did kidnap her, after all.
Perhaps that is why she finds this easier to do than with someone she had befriended. Maybe this is one of those instances where it is better with a stranger than someone you know, just like giving a speech to strangers is easier than speaking in front of family.
Yes, that is most likely.
"Why hasn't this happened to you?" Atlas suddenly speaks up, his voice laced with resentment.
"Oh, it has, just not as bad. And besides, I was already tan, remember? That protects me from burns, unlike your pale skin."
"Its not pale anymore," he grumbles.
Cally chuckles, shaking her head at his words. "No, it isn't."
"Its not funny," Atlas whines. "I don't see how any of this could be perceived as humorous."
Cally laughs openly then, her head thrown back just the slightest. "Oh, yes, it's quite funny. You are probably redder than my dad was two summers ago..."
Cally's hands suddenly still as her voice trails off. Atlas rotates his head up to glance back at her to see the girl's eyes turned away from him, staring at the flames with a far away look in her stormy grey eyes. He then realizes her change of mood.
"You will see them again. I promised you that," he voices, breaking her from her nostalgic trance.
Cally shakes her head, as if to rid her mind of unwanted thoughts. "I know, I just... couldn't help it."
Her hands begin their work once more, smoothing over the crest of his shoulders and down the backs of his arms. Atlas knows he should say something, but comforting others is not one of his few virtues. He has upset her. Not directly, as it was her words not his own that troubled her, but the thoughts were instigated by him.
"Tell me about them," he says. Perhaps this was not the best thing to ask, but he is also curious. He never had a family.
The cool morning air blows in through the tent flap, breezing over the fire and toying with a strand of Cally's hair. She brushes it aside as she ponders what to say. She has avoided speaking about them to save her feelings, but perhaps it is time she remember them, especially now that she knows she will see them once more.
"My dad isn't the most outdoorsy. He works as an engineer and is often holed up in his office at home. My mom is your typical housewife, doing the cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping and such. They will have been married twenty years this winter."
Atlas hasn't heard of most of the things she speaks of, but he remains silent. He will ask later.
"I only have one sibling, my brother. He is younger than me by ten years as my parents weren't really expecting another child. They had originally planned to only have me, but obviously that didn't happen. I remember when they told me I was going to be an older sister," a broad smile fills her face. "I was positively ecstatic.
"We have practically been inseparable ever since he was old enough to toddle after me. In a way, I was also one of his parents. Mom and dad doted on him a lot and gave him what he wanted, but if he ever really needed anything he would always come to me first. I'm not sure why. Maybe we just share a more comfortable bond with each other than we do with our parents."
She has long since forgotten her task and has probably gone over the same spot on his back at least four times now, yet Atlas stays silent. He has never heard someone speak with as much love as Cally does when she describes her family. He can't help feeling the slightest pang of jealousy. She has something he could never even dream of obtaining.
"You say your parents are married. Is that a human custom?" He asks his first question.
"Oh, yes. When we find someone we love, we have a ceremony called a wedding. The two people who love each other make vows and promises to love each other forever and to be true to each other. It is a holy pact to remain faithful and devoted to your partner," her smile turns longing. "It is a truly beautiful thing."
Atlas ponders her words. "Do all humans do this? You never take more than one lover in a lifetime?"
Cally bites her lip. "Well, no. Most do get married, yes, but sometimes their spouse dies, or they fall out of love and separate. Others don't get married at all."
Atlas frowns. "This saddens you."
Cally shakes her head. "No... well, I guess it does make me sad." She removes her hands and rests her elbows on her knees, getting list in voicing her thoughts. "It is just something I've never really understood."
"How do you mean?" Atlas asks, ever the curious one.
"Marriage is meant to be holy and beautiful, the two full of love and respect for their spouse, yet there are those who lose the beauty of marriage somewhere along the way. Sometimes people realize they never loved each other in the first place or they find the person they married wasn't who they thought they were. Others treat weddings as social gatherings or displays of wealth instead of intimate ceremonies, the vows as breakable promises and not words of bonding. I guess I just feel like too many people take love for granted."
Her words are spoken with such passion and soul that Atlas can't help agreeing with her. He does not entirely understand or agree with the concept, but her words ring with a truth that is hard to ignore.
Atlas rises to a sitting position, dusting the sand from his chest. "My people do not marry. Most of us don't even have lovers, only those we mate with to ensure the continuation of our species."
"That is unfortunate," Cally voices with all sincerity.
"Yes," his voice is low and quiet, almost blown away by the breeze. "I believe you are right." A pause. "Do you wish to marry?"
Cally smiles, then a nod. "I can't imagine anything more pleasing. To have someone completely and totally dedicated to you just as much as you are them... is there anything more securing than that?"
Atlas doesn't have an answer. He asks a different question: "What if you don't find someone who will love you?"
"I don't know," she answers. "There are many people in this world. I'm sure I will find someone eventually."
Atlas nods, tossing a small twig into the fire. "You said your parents hadn't planned to have another child. Is it normal for married people to choose the number of children they wish to have?"
"Yes, actually," she replies. "Most couples long discuss that before they even get married."
"How many children do you want?" He asks.
"I want three," she says without hesitation. "Two boys and then a girl, but I can't exactly pick their genders. I will be happy with however many children I am given, but in a perfect world that would be my choice."
Atlas observes her tranquil smile and relaxed state. This is something she has been planning for a long time and has held in high respect, that much he knows for sure. He had never given children much thought. He would never raise children anyways, but seeing the peace and hope on her face, he can't help entertaining the idea. What would it be like to raise a child? Would it be hard?
He decides to voice his thoughts. "Males of my species never raise children. Is the task difficult?"
Cally purses her lips. "It depends on the age, really, and I'm sure it is quite different for our separate species, and yes, it is difficult, but it seems like the love you receive from a child would be more than worth the effort."
Atlas remembers the love and admiration he had for his mother. Would his child love and adore him like he had his mother?
Cally had never expected to discuss these things with Atlas. She had never really voiced these thoughts to anyone before, and yet she found the conversation comforting. It had felt good to share her thoughts and ideas, especially to someone who would listen with utmost attention and even ask her questions.
She glances over his reddened chest, eyebrows pulling together. He would hurt for days, no doubt, and she wonders if he will get cranky throughout the healing process like she would. Hopefully, he doesn't.
"Here," she says, handing him the bottle. "You will want to put this on your chest."
Atlas glares at the bottle before snatching it up. Cally leaves the tent momentarily, probably to collect firewood for later, and Atlas follows her with his eyes. When she is no longer in sight, he begins setting about tending to his sunburnt chest.
All the while, he wishes it were her delicate hands doing the healing and not his own.