In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

Suddenly, the black wind around us slammed into us hard. There was a cry from the dark and something soft and warm slammed into me. No - not something. Someone!

Dear, merciless King Midas…

Once more, my arms tightened instinctively and, inwardly, I cursed. God had really made an abominable construction error when he invented instincts.

‘Oh God…’ The sound of her voice, trembling, hardly audible in the roaring dark, tore at something deep inside me. ‘I… I’m scared!’

‘So am I.’

What the…?!

What had I just said? I was never scared, as a matter of principle. Never! And, even if by some insane fluke of nature I were at some future point in time to become scared of something, I would never be so gormless as to actually admit it!

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

‘Come here,’ I heard my voice say. ‘Let me hold you.’

What?

Had I completely lost my faculties for logical reasoning? We were trapped in a sandstorm, not a snowstorm! Pressing closely against each other would not increase our chances of survival by one single iota. What was I thinking?

That’s the problem. You aren’t. Period.

‘Yes! Please!’

There was that soft voice again, all scared and lonely, and yet, underneath all that, still strong, still fiery, still my little Ifrit. Without thinking twice (or even once, to tell the truth) I pulled her up against me until our faces were pressed against each other, hard jaw to soft cheek, black strands to brown locks, lips to hungry lips.

I felt dazed. Was this really happening? Were the two of us really…? Could it be that…?

‘Rick?’

That voice…

‘Yes, Lilly?’

‘I’m glad you’re here.’

Don’t say anything! Don’t say anything! Don’t say any-

‘I’m glad you’re here, too.’

Damn!

‘Really?’

I felt that irrational tug at the corner of my mouth again that I only ever felt when she was around. ‘Not glad that you’re here in the sandstorm, in imminent danger of suffocation, obviously. I meant here with me.’

‘Yes. I meant that, too.’

‘Good.’

‘Yes.’

A moment of silence. A moment of roaring storm winds. If only she would speak again. If only I could hear her voice, listen to that spark of fire!

‘Lilly?’

‘Yes?’