Ara Flatermor: Day Three

“The sunrise,” she said.

“You want to watch it with me?” he asked.

“Well, I thought since we know you’ll survive in the sun, it’d be–” she fluffed his hair in her hands, “romantic or something.”

“The part of me that wants to read romance novels approves of this idea,” Pepin said.

“And the other part of you?”

“The other part of me just wants to be with you,” Pepin said, kissing the underside of her neck. “Sunrise or sunset.”

Angie laughed. “That’s the romance novels talking, isn’t it?”

“Nope, that’s all me,” Pepin said, “though I don’t suppose there’s much difference now. I’d hate to ask you to stand up, but I’m afraid you’ll have to.”

Angie wiggled against him, before standing up. She adjusted her skirt, asking “Why?”

“Because I like you being in my lap,” Pepin said, a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“No I meant, why did you–”

“I know what you meant,” Pepin said, standing up and stretching. He didn’t hear any bones moan in response. “I thought we could move the loveseat next to the window, that way we can curl up and watch it together.”

Angie smiled in return. “I’ll help you move it.”

The each took one end of the blue paisley loveseat and, though Angie was sure her end was far too light, they carried to the window. Angie waited for Pepin to sit down so she could stretch out across his lap. The night sky was already being infused with a deep purple, and Angie cupped her hands on Pepin’s face, her thumbs outlining his wrinkles affectionately. They were supposed to be watching the sunrise, but they couldn’t stop watching each other.

Fear shot through Angie like as if she jumped into ice water. What if they were wrong? What if Pepin starting burning against her fingers? He’d scream and run out of the room, she supposed. He would make it. She’s certain he’s survived worse scenarios.

She watched Pepin then like she watched her current kidnapper now, both peeking out the window at possible death. But Pepin’s face showed only love for her, no fear nor confidence. He just watched the sun illuminate her brown curls, he just watched her in a new light.

She didn’t know how to interpret the kidnappers face. Sure, there was fear there, but there was something else, revenge maybe. She briefly wondered where his brother was, pushing away her memory of her and Pepin making love in the warmth of the sun.

“What do you plan to gain from this?” Angie snapped, feeling the ropes tighten around her wrists as Pepin’s anger rose inside of her. “Do you really think he’ll hand over the money? And what then? A lifetime of looking over your shoulder?”

“You really think this is about money,” the man said. Angie heard a new confidence in his voice. “When this is over, I won’t be looking over my shoulder.”

Angie suppressed the anger. Calmly, she said, “That’s because you’ll be dead.”