Page 145 of Deliria

But Rafe is there, Rafe is on that island.

I force my arms to move, to raise, and I swim haphazardly.

The island looks even more like a mirage now than it ever did. I swim, and I swim but it feels like I’m not closer.

And all the while the waves are lapping relentlessly at me, at my face, pulling me under, forcing me to work harder, to swim harder.

I can’t make it.

My heart sinks with defeat at that knowledge.

I know I can’t make it. The current is too strong. The water is too cold and my body is far too fucking broken for me to stand a chance.

I blink, trying to force myself to do it, to force myself on, but it’s no good. I don’t have the strength to fight.

The water comes up to meet me. It’s freezing temperature feels almost soothing now.

I blink, trying to take in a gasp of air and I realise now that I was never meant to leave this island. That none of us were. Death was stalking me from the minute I arrived – did I really think I could outrun it? Did I really think I could take such risks and not face the consequences?

Another wave overcomes me.

Another wave engulfs me and I fight as hard as I can just to reach the surface.

It’s like everything slows. I can see myself. I can see Rafe too. Both of us, before, in this moment, when I was trying to escape, trying to flee the island and he dragged me back.

He saved me.

But he’s not here now.

I’m suddenly far below the depths, fighting with everything I have to get to the surface.

But it’s so far above me and the darkness that surrounds me almost feels like home.

I flail in that pitch black abyss for a moment before a calmness seems to take me.

I imagine him here, imagine Rafe, that we’re swimming, not drowning. That he’s here, holding my hand, smiling at me.

And as the darkness overwhelms me entirely, I gasp out his name, wishing he was holding me, comforting me, reminding me one final time that he’s here.

And that he loves me.

Scarlett

It’s warm. Comfortable.

I’m wrapped up in the softest of blankets.

As I roll over, I breathe in a long, deep, lazy breath that is full of his smell.

“Rafe,”

I know he’s here, that he’s beside me. I can sense his presence.

“Hey, Little Bird,” He says, as his hand comes up to cup my cheek so tenderly.

I don’t want to open my eyes but when I do, I see him, smiling, looking more breathtaking than ever. There’s not a mark on him, not even a bruise. He looks ethereal.

We’re in a room I don’t recognise, but for once, my heart is screaming out in panic, my head isn’t telling me to run for my life. I don’t feel anything but just peace. Calm.

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