Page 105 of Green Ravens

Nestled deep in the woods of a rural Virginia county was a rustic sanctuary.

The massive lake stretched for miles, its surface gleaming under the morning sun. A speedboat bobbed against the dock, and the cabin itself, though not too modern, held an undeniable sense of serenity. It was more than enough for two simple men like them.

The kitchen overflowed with food, and after the four-hour drive, he was starving.

Their attempt at making breakfast ended in a disaster—flour on the countertops, eggshells in the pancake batter, syrup dripping from the edge of the counter. Burned sausages that were still raw on the inside.

Zorion laughed at their incompetence, the feeling foreign but nice after so long.

While Valor stood there dusted in flour, he stared at him as if watching him laugh was the highlight of his existence.

Zorion’s broad smile slowly faded, and his humor changed to a different kind of hunger than was in his stomach.

The breakfast bar was as far as he made it before Valor folded him over.

After they were exhausted, they went into the living room, which was furnished with dark wood, oversized recliners, and a modest-sized television with satellite.

He and Valor lay against each other and tried to watch TV, only to become utterly perplexed at what entertained people nowadays.

Reality shows were unbearable, game shows were mindless, and the over-the-top action movies were unrealistic to the point of absurdity. Even the extreme inaccuracy in natural disaster films was ridiculous.

They exchanged annoyed glances, shaking their heads at how the world found any of this shit engaging.

They sat on the porch for hours, until the sun began to dip beneath the treetops, casting the sky in hues of deep orange and violet, and Zorion thought of a different plan.

He grabbed a cooler from beneath the sink and filled it with beers and peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches.

He flung his arm over Valor’s shoulder and pulled him toward the dock.

The speedboat was sleek, it’s frame stark white and powerful.

Zorion set the cooler down as Valor slid behind the controls, then reached for the ignition. He hovered over the controls before he turned to him with a questioning expression.

“How do I know how to do this?”

Zorion settled into the passenger seat. “I was just wondering the same thing.”

He turned the key and the engine roared to life, the hum of it vibrating through the hull.

Valor smirked all sexy and shit before he pressed the throttle forward, and the boat lurched.

The immediate rush was exhilarating as the boat began slicing through the water.

The vessel bounced over the surface, lifting and crashing with each crest, sending waves spraying into the air.

The force of the wind slammed into him, making his blood pump faster, his senses hyperaware. It felt like the best roller-coaster ride, crazy and thrilling.

He and Valor stared at each other before exploding into loud whoops and “Fuck yeah” at the feeling of true freedom.

The lake stretched on for miles, a mirror of the night sky, the moon full and bright, reflecting off the water and bathing them in silver.

As they soared across the water, Zorion felt a weight lift from his chest. There were no battles here, no assassins, no deaths waiting around the corner—just the pulse of the water and the fresh, crisp scent of the lake.

After a while, Valor eased the throttle back, slowing them until there was only the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

Zorion nestled between Valor’s legs and cracked two beers open. They said nothing as they enjoyed their temporary peace.

Zorion turned his head and pressed his cheek to Valor’s shoulder.

---