Page 24 of Far From Sherwood Forest
At this point, I don’t give a shit if or where I shoot him.
So I release the arrow.
Unfortunately, it disappears off into the distance without hitting anyone.
Alright, so I’m a bit rusty when it comes to a bow. That was also the last arrow Robin gave me, and there’s no telling how many he has. I’m not the least bit concerned that he’d kill me. Sure, he didn’t mind killing back in Sherwood Forest. The reminder of his last kill—my cousin—makes me grind my teeth together. However, this world has changed us both. I don’t believe he has it in him.
What Imightbe worried about is if he wants revenge for those gunshot wounds I gave him.
This time, I hear the next arrow singing through the air. I turn in time to see the exact direction it came from but not intime to avoid it from grazing my shoulder.
It rips the fabric of my shirt, the tip scratching the surface of my skin in the exact same spot it sliced through five years ago. The arrow lodges in the tree behind me, pinning that torn piece of my shirt to the trunk. Just like it did back then.
Robin is clearlynotrusty when it comes to the bow.
“You said you wanted to play fair, Robin?” I call out as I throw my bow and empty quiver to the ground. “Then play fucking fair!”
I hear his own weapons thud to the forest floor.
I break out into a run.
He does the same, and now I can see him up ahead, weaving through the trees, his bare feet slapping against the dirt and snapping twigs. That’s probably going to hurt him later.
If I don’t kill him first.
The chase goes on until sweat is beading across my brow, my legs burn, and I’m panting for air. I’ve only lost sight of him a couple times. He’s quicker than me, but what slows him down enough for me to keep up is when he reaches a denser part of the woods and has to search for a safer route.
If there’s one good thing that’s come from all of this, it’s that I’m thoroughly distracted from…
Nope.
I push myself harder until I finally start to gain on him. He must be pushing himself hard too considering he hasn’t opened his mouth to say something annoying in a while.
When he reaches a fallen tree, he struggles a little too long to get over it. As I get closer, I see his face screwed up in a grimace as he steps up on top of it, his feet most likely already causing him a lot of pain, made worse as they rub across the rough bark.
I’m not sure, and I don’t care.
He vaults over the tree trunk just as I reach it. My legs are taller, and I manage to jump it much easier. Using the trunk asleverage, I push myself off on the other side, throwing myself forward and crashing into Robin’s back.
We both go down onto the hard ground.
Robin squirms beneath me, wiggling around until he’s on his back.
“Fuck,” he grunts as he struggles to throw me off, but I refuse to budge. He’s completely breathless from the chase, his face, neck, and chest flushed a bright red. “You weigh like a thousand pounds, you fucking behemoth.”
He continues his futile writhing as I get my legs fixed firmly on either side of his thighs, pinning him down even more effectively. He’s not small, but I’m still bigger, heavier, and stronger.
His fists come up, and he lands a couple decent hits to my stomach and side before I grab both of his wrists in my hands. Leaning over him, I slam his wrists to the ground above his head, pulling another grunt from him. His entire body continues bucking under me, his hips thrusting up as he refuses to give up the fight.
“Get the fuck off me, you giant!”
That strange phenomenon from before comes over me again.
It’s the way his body moves against mine, still a little wet from his swim and now with sweat. Half naked, squirming and struggling and fighting against me. His chest heaving, his pants and grunts warming the air around us. Where my hands touch the smooth, tanned skin around his wrists burn, like we might both catch fire.
No force in heaven or hell could stop what my body decides to do next.
A feral groan rips up my throat, and my hips grind down on his.
