Falling's Not The Problem -- Darius

The ocean was a sanctuary and a deathbed.

What is it to you, darlin’ Lorraine? The way she recoiled away from his friendly gesture as if it were a poisonous serpent of the deep revealed all too well the truth behind her hesitation - fear. But a fear of what? Drowning, sinking, drifting off to the horizon never to be spotted on land again? Was it the darkness beneath that frightened her, the prospect sinking into a bottomless, suffocating abyss? ”You don’t understand -” She cut herself short, wrapping her arms defensively around herself as if shielding herself from a threat the wind could possibly carry across the salty seas. She was right, he didn’t understand. How could he? He had only just met her, and under such traumatizing circumstances nearly resulting in the end of her precious life. Help me understand, then. Fear itself was something he could deal with at the surface. After the ocean turned into his fathers’ casket it took months for Darius to conquer his hatred of the ocean, and even years for his younger sister to do the same. Now that it was his sanctuary again - even with all of its dangers and malicious secrets - he could bathe in its waters without a worry. Now it was the red-headed mystery’s turn. If only he knew what was lying under her shell, beneath the cocoon of fear encasing what could be the answer. What makes her so hesitant?

Lorraine was staring at something off in the distance, but when Darius stole a glance of his own he discovered nobody and nothing. Nothing but the tranquil waves lapping at their feet and the gentle rush of water carrying seaweed that washed ashore and entangled itself around his ankle like a chain binding him to the sands - his home. Everyone’s home. District four was a world of hot sands and salt water air and fresh fish bundled in nets. There was not a soul in this proud district who did not know the ocean, even Lorraine, for though she could not swim there was not a child within these boundaries who hadn’t buried their toes in sand and stared into the horizon as the sun kissed their skin. The beach was home, and whether Lorraine realized it or not, it was her home too. He could not see what she could see, or possibly guess what she was thinking at that very moment, but there was something odd about the way her eyes seemed fixed and her lips slightly parted as if tempted speak but unable to spit the words. Whatever she saw, or heard, or thought, it changed her perception, for as their gazes met again she inched her way closer to him, hand slightly extended. She placed her small hand in his own, and with a gentle squeeze he promised her he wouldn’t let her drown.

”Promsie me you won’t let go of my hand.” He wanted to chuckle. Darius was many things - many terrible things. Smoker, delinquent, whore. Good or bad, strong or weak, these traits were pieces that morphed together to create this imperfect boy with wild blonde hair and eyes green as summer sea water, and if Darius was anything, he was a man that kept his promises. Grasping her hand gently, he slowly lead her into the water as its delicate waves pulsated against his limbs and chilled him to the bone. ”I won’t let go,” He gingerly squeezed her hand again to reassure her he would keep his word and her life. As the level reached his waist and her chest, feet still clinging to the mushy sands beneath, he paused and kept their fingers entwined above the ice water. Twinkling starlight and scattering moonlight sprinkled the ocean’s surface with silver crystals, lighting their path despite the night spreading its blanket of darkness over the district. Glimmers reflecting from his skin he lowered her hand into the water and with a hearty grin sealed the deal. ”I promise.”

Darius guided her deeper into the treacherous waters, the sense of foreboding absent from the flame kindling in his heedless heart despite his knowledge of the potential dangers lurking beneath the surface. He already knew what the first lesson would consist of; floating. Whether or not someone drowned did not depend on their swimming ability, but in fact depended on if that person knew how to keep their body above the surface and tread water in hopes of reaching land before the tendrils of weariness dragged them down. If Lorraine could not float, she would sink like a stone even if he did teach her the art of swimming. To be stranded in the ocean is to be imprisoned in an eternal pool of chaos, and if one panicked and drained their energy before earth was in reach the ocean would swallow them whole, and that poor soul would never be spotted in this world again. The minutes would linger painstakingly slow as time dragged by, but baby steps and patience were the keys to mastering any art or skill, even the impatient Darius knew this. Therefore, as they eased themselves into the ice water Darius felt no need to rush nor any will to fast-forward time. He was the guide, time was his needle and thread, and together they would weave the night into a tapestry of learning - learning that Lorraine would hopefully pick up on and carry with her for the rest of her life.

Their hands were still glued together when Darius felt the sickeningly familiar ripple in the waters steady current, prompting him to turn a curious eye toward the blanket with no edge. He felt the water tugging his clothes and his skin at a rather unbalanced level of strength, as if it were suddenly trying to suck them in for trespassing, but Darius knew better than to expect such a thing. He knew what was approaching before he saw it - a wall of black towering over them, edging closer and closer at a speed he could not fathom until it was too late. When he cocked his head, still conscious of Lorraine’s hand squeezing his own, there was not enough time to shout a warning or escape its wrath by swimming away. There was only a time for a single word, and a single action.

”Shit-!” He sucked in a breath and held it in his chest, the wave crashing above their heads and hauling them below the surface as if to bathe them in ice and paralyze their tingling faces. Darius remained rigid, kicking his legs as if to bruise the ocean’s tendrils trying to drag them down and smother them before they could see the starlight again, and he squeezed his eyes closed to keep the salt out and his concentration in. He knew Lorraine was thrashing with him in the sea of darkness, her hand still grasped within his as she struggled against the current, and he was determined not to release her into the mayhem she could not escape because he had promised. He had promised not to let go of her hand, not to release her into danger, not after she’d tried to topple off of a bridge. Never again. Never again would he let her be exposed to such dangers, and that was a promise he would make to himself.

It was only moments later that he resurfaced, exhaling an icy breath into the crisp atmosphere as he searched for the web of red hair that would assure him that Lorraine was still with him. She was a dark silhouette on an even darker canvas, her outline a blur amongst the shadows, but with her hand anchoring him to the mesh of salt water waves there was no mistaking her presence under the surface. With a single heave he yanked her into the fresh air again and pulled her into his arms, his eyes open and his ears perked in search for signs of life. Coughing and sputtering and gasps for air were never positive signs, but to him they were signs of life, and that was all that mattered. She was trembling, the movements wracking his bones as he stayed afloat in the water with his feet grazing the sands, but he tried to remain still and settled. Cool and relaxed, as always, even when he’d nearly lost her after she’d been plunged into the waters. Losing a girl to the ocean when she didn’t know how to swim? How would he live with himself? He couldn’t, and that was just it. That’s why he had remained loyal to his promise. Darius may have been an asshole to many, and he may have acted rather harshly when he’d first dragged her away from the edge of the bridge, but he was no killer. He didn’t just let innocent people drown - not like he did. It just wasn’t in his nature, even when violence typically was.

In the midst of her quaking she pressed her face against his chest, drawing a relieved smirk from inside his cold skeleton. ”Told ya I wouldn’t let go.” he reminded her, resting his chin on the top of her head while she settled into his arms, hopefully sharing a fraction of his warmth with herself. She stirred ever so slightly in his arms, her limbs like heavy chains wrapped around his body trying to crush iron bones, and for a moment he wondered if her voice was paralyzed from the trauma. He heard her shatter the silence, however, as he retreated his head back to examine the shivering body pressed against his in the ocean of ice and terror, and again they were words pleading for commitment; ”And promise me you never will?” He hadn’t let go on the bridge, on the beach, in the water, or under the water, so why would he choose to let go now? He nodded his head, not a moment’s hesitation holding back his answer as he parted chapped lips. ”I promise.” Her eyes were emeralds, so close to his own and so strikingly brilliant against a wall painted with blacks and indigos and the small whites of twinkling stars. Her pale visage lingered so close to his own that he could see every ridge and ripple of color in her green irises, he could feel her hot breath against his drenched, icy skin, and he could feel her lips trembling, even when they weren’t touching his own. Not yet.

If there was any temptation Darius couldn’t resist, it was the touch and feel of a woman’s complexion, its soft texture and peach color, especially on the lips. With Lorraine so close to him and unwilling to retract her clinging arms he couldn’t deny how pretty she was or suppress the urge to kiss her then and there, even as they were soaked to the bone in ice that shackled them to the freezing water. Before he became consciously aware of it, he was leaning closer to her, eyes half-lidded, head tilted ever so gently to one side, prepared to close what little space remained between their lips as his arms balanced her upright and held her in a tender embrace. Her lips were near, so near that he could taste her breath and feel the radiating warmth and seal the two pairs together if she allowed him just one more inch -

”Look, a shooting star!”

The startling exclamation escaped in a gasp of mixed delight and wonder, leaving Darius slightly baffled and dumbstruck as she withdrew her body and guided her eyes to the stars. Sensing her fascination laced with traces of enthusiasm, he tilted his head back and followed her traveling gaze to the night sky, spotting only for an instant the thin ribbon of sapphire streaking through the sky like a harmless missile leaving a trail of faded smoke. It vanished the moment he recognized its shape and color, recalling the last time he had actually witnessed one soar across the sky as if it wanted to touch the moon. ”Huh,” the matter-of-fact toned mumble escaped through partially opened lips as he squinted in hopes of perhaps finding another shooting star, though he knew better than to raise his expectations too high for an event so rare. ”It’s been awhile since I’ve seen one of ‘em.” He was eight, dangling his tanned legs over the edge of the dock above calm waters with his father relaxed by his side, eyes glued to the night sky as if anticipating something extraordinary. ”What’s that?! Darius had shouted, pointing an extended finger at the sapphire bullet shooting through the clouds like a bird wrapped in a curtain of cold fire. ”That, Darius, is a shootin’ star. Another soul goin’ to heaven.” Naturally, Darius had asked what his beloved father had meant, and naturally, his father explained it to him. He had always explained the mysteries of life to him, even if there was only but faith to hold onto as proof.

”Ya know, my pops used to tell me that shootin’ stars are actually souls goin’ to the afterlife. To heaven.” Because father’s faith in the human race had been so powerful, even when now Darius had lost this faith knowing exactly how malevolent their race could truly be. How cruel their ways had become. He wasn’t sure he still believed in his father’s religious promises and ideas, but Lorraine seemed to enjoy the prospect. ”I like that.” She said, eyes still searching the skies before they found him once more. ”Are we supposed to wish on it?” Wish? Yes, he’d heard of such, but he’d never actually gone through with it, even after father had closed his eyes and silently wished for something to bless their family. And look where I am now, he thought bitterly, though the moment of mental distaste quickly faded when he came to wonder why Lorraine was showing so much curiosity for the star and the wishes it could perhaps offer if the stories were true. He glanced down at her, expression even and lips pursed before he spoke up again. ”Why?” It was an innocent question, hopefully not delving too deep into her personal shell. Darius had never wished upon a star because he didn’t believe the stories, so why would Lorraine? Did she believe? Did she have something to lose? Or had she already lost it? ”What would ya wish for?”