Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Island for Two (Mel x Midnight Lass)

M

Melethron

Super-Earth
Joined
Mar 10, 2017
All he could see was the last few moments of his life. They kept repeating, over and over again in his mind. The gala the cruise ship had thrown, a mix of opulence and elegance misplaced as the entire ship gathered for dinner. How he had excused himself, claiming to have a migraine. The slow, languid stroll up onto the deck. He had been alone there at first, before another figure appeared nearby. A beauty with dark skin and bright eyes. Quite the contrast to his own pale body. His bright blue eyes rose to meet hers. And then everything became hazy. He wasn't sure what had happened next. If the boat had struck something or if a powerful wave had sent the ship listing to one side. The ship had shuddered, water pouring onto the deck as it leaned towards the sea below. Had it been that had sent him careening overboard? Or did he jump? He remembered hitting the water. He remembered coming up for air, before he began swimming after something. Then, the cruise liner turned, and slowly began to disappear on the horizon...

Thomas groaned, his senses slowly returning to him. The brightness of the sun overhead seared into his shut eyes, and his ears were assailed by the sound of gulls and the rolling tide. The young boy blinked, suddenly aware of the taste of sand on his tongue. He raised his head, grains of the offending matter falling from his tangled black hair in a steady stream. To his surprise, he was not dead, but laying on a beach. Before him, he could see palm trees on the outskirts of a small jungle, slowly rising to a small mountain on the horizon. Smoke drifted lazily from the summit, hinting the volcano was still active. The young man stood, droplets of seawater and sand falling freely from his soaked and torn tuxedo. He rubbed his head, trying to regain control of his thoughts. So, he wasn't dead. That meant...

His eyes shot open, his gaze turning out to sea. Only the great rolling expanse of blue met his gaze. For a moment, he stared out in disbelief before his shoulders slumped, and his eyes returned to the beach. That was when those blue eyes noticed something, lying down the beach perhaps a few hundred yards away. A coldness grew in the pit of his stomach. It looked like...he couldn't finish that thought. Instead, Thomas steeled himself, and began to make his way towards the ebony hued figure down the beach. He barely noticed that his clothes were torn and ragged, showing off his lean young body in places. He barely noticed he couldn't walk in a straight line. He certainly didn't notice how thirsty he was. He raced over to her with uneven strides, nearly stumbling now and then, until he reached the figure. He knelt next to her, hoping she was still alive, still breathing. His trembling hands found the cold mass, and turned it over. No human visage met his eye, his eyes instead falling upon a wadded mass of clothing. A sigh escaped him. It must have been some linen from the ship that got caught up in the storm. He pawed through the collection of fabric for a few moments, hoping to find something useful, but he found nothing of note. Slowly and reluctantly, he returned to his feet. He had to check the island for other survivors. Maybe someone had already called for help. After the hours he had spent on the open ocean, his legs were burning. But he forced himself forward, with long and slow strides past the mound of clothes and other detritus littering the shore. Eyes scouring the beach ahead for any sign of another survivor.

Any sign that he wasn’t here alone.
 
Hannah groaned.

She decided she shouldn't have drank as much she had. Her whole body ached. What exactly had she drunk, and how much had she drunk of it?

As Hannah raised herself off her bed, deciding that a half hour under the shower would get her feeling human again, she got a shock.

She wasn't in her bed, or even in her cabin.

The memories of what had happened hit Hannah. She groaned as she held her head, as the memories of what had happened felt like they literally hit her.

There were a lot of ways Hannah would have liked to celebrate her eighteenth birthday, but a cruise with her family was not one of them. Especially since her new stepmother only wanted Hannah there to take care of her children, as Hannah's father and stepmother went out at nights.

Hannah had expected to spend the night of her eighteenth birthday watching her new step-siblings, but instead she was invited to eat the Captain's table.

This infuriated her stepmother to no end, since her stepmother was only going to be able to eat at the Captain's table if Hannah went.

So Hannah went to the Captain's table.

Hannah's dress was much plainer than her stepmother's, but she still outshone her stepmother, and the older woman knew it. So Hannah had to put up with her stepmother's continual passive-aggressive sniping. Finally, the Captain took pity on her, and asked her for a dance. As Hannah's stepmother's eyes bore holes in her, Hannah allowed herself to be taken on the dance floor.

Hannah was soon laughing in the Captain's arms, and she could only wish that her father was more like the older man she was dancing with. When the dance ended, Hannah made an excuse to go up on deck, while the Captain returned to the table.

Hannah drew more than a few glances as she went up on the observation deck, which was understandable. Her petite but curvaceous form, her warm, brown skin, the long, dark black hair that fell to the top of her bountiful breasts, her sparkling green eyes set in a beautiful face, all of these drew the male eye.

But Hannah wasn't in the mood to draw the male eye tonight. At some point, she was going to have face her stepmother's poisonous attitude.

When she caught a blonde man her own age perving on her, she rolled her eyes and moved somewhere where she could be alone.

And then something had hit.

Maybe it was a rogue wave, or a ship malfunction, or something else completely. Hannah would never know. One moment she was looking over a rail, the next she was floundering in the water, trying to keep her head above the waves. And then blackness overtook her.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up, salt and sand in her hair, her mouth...everywhere.. It took her a minute, but she was finally able to get to her feet. Looking down, she didn't look or feel as if she had been hurt too badly. Her dress was in shreds, but her modesty was still intact.

Not that it looked as if she had to worry about anyone noticing her modesty or lack thereof. All she saw was sand and waves and rain forest for as far as the eye could see. There was no ship on the horizon, and no sign of any other individual.

And then she saw something in the distance. A figure moving in the distance. "Hello? Hello?" she shouted, running in the direction of the distant figure.
 
"Hey! Hey!"

The sound that rose from Thomas's throat was raspy and pained. But his shout emerged eagerly from his throat. He didn't notice the discomfort in his throat. He was simply glad, overjoyed, that he was not here alone. He had never been athletic, and was far from at his best. But for his stumbling, graceless steps his endurance would have put Olympic athletes to shame. It was almost as if his problems were over. That if he could just get to her, everything would be fine. He would go back, and his life return to normal. Of course, this was a naive hope. He knew it, even if it didn't matter. He just didn't want to spend the rest of his life here, alone.

It wasn't until the two of them were mere feet away that Thomas stopped. He took a moment to catch his breath, staring down at his waterlogged dress shoes. There was a bit of seaweed wrapped around one of his shoes. Then his eyes flitted up, and he stopped. Eyes marked with sand and salt widened in surprise, and his mouth slid open in shock. He breathed in once more, and then managed to speak.

"I-its you! From the ship, I..." He stopped to brush himself off, and consider what he was saying. While he didn't think there was anything inappropriate about how he had looked at her last night, introducing himself as 'that guy who looked at you just before the wave hit' didn't seem the best introduction. If the two of them were to be stuck together, he wanted to make a good first impression. He straightened, extended an arm, and offered a smile. A thankful rise of the lips, that said he was glad she was here. "I'm Thomas."
 
"Hannah," she responded, taking the proffered hand. Hannah's brow furrowed, trying to remember Thomas. In truth, she had already forgotten the encounter he was remembering, so she was trying to remember where she should know him from. It'll come back to me, she hoped/decided.

Taking her hand back, she looked behind Thomas, as if other people would suddenly appear behind him. "Have you seen anyone else?" she asked.
 
"Not a soul."

Thomas's answer managed to come out as placid, neutral. Inwardly however he felt a strange sense of excitement at his words. He was on this island, alone with a cute girl. Though Thomas was a virgin, with no experience in dating, he was sure not one boy from his high school wouldn't want to be in his shoes. A small, nagging woe inside him reminded him that they were indeed here together. Alone. With no one to provide them with the necessities of life. Food, water, shelter or clothing. But his mind shoved those away for now. Sure, they might have to eat coconuts for a day or two, but there were people looking for them. The adventure books he read as a kid would keep them going until then, he guessed. They'd both be rescued in a day or two.

Right?

"I um, I guess we should stick together then. Maybe if we look around, we can find a place to make a shelter or some rocks to make a signal with?"
 
"Why don't we scout around for some place to take shelter?" Hannah said, looking out at the horizon again. "Then we can start seeing who else might have shown up here, or maybe if something washed up from the ship that we can use?"
 
"Right." Thomas nodded in response. "If we could find anything, even a couple of suitcases, it would be a big help. I could probably put together a shelter if I had a knife. I was taught how to do it in the Scouts."

He tried to strike a heroic pose. Only to wobble in place instead. It seemed he had not quite shed his sea legs yet. He regained his balance after a moment, doing his best to pass it off as a simple brush of his hair. "It might be best if we stick together, though. We don't know how large or dangerous this island is. If one of us gets into trouble, we might not be able to hurry to help the other in time."
 
Hannah arched an eyebrow at his suggestion, but said nothing. She looked up and down the beach and saw two spots where debris had washed up. "I'lll go down there and check that one out," she said, pointing in one direction, "And you go down and check that one out," she continued. "We'll still be in sight of each other, so you won't have to be sca----worried," Hannah quickly corrected.
 
"Worried? I-I'm not worried."

He did his best to lie, though it wasn't easy, given the circumstances. The two of them had just survived a shipwreck. Even if he had some training in the outdoors, there was quite the difference between setting a tent in his backyard and making a shelter on his own. For a nerdy teen like Thomas, he might as well be on another world. Still, he wanted to make the best of his second chance with Hannah. He had to make a good impression on her, if the two were to be stuck here.

With a nod, he shuffled across the sand, moving to the debris she had pointed out. As he neared the shoreline, his posture began to straighten as the shock of their landing wore off. He was still hungry, sore, and very very thirsty, but he was doing his best to ignore it. He walked along the shore, glancing over what was there. A life preserver, some clothes--too torn to wear, though he might find some use for them--and some broken bits of plastic furniture from the deck. He had only just started to wonder if this was a waste of time when his foot struck something. A red satchel. He pulled it out of the water eagerly, pulling it to one side before ripping it open. No clothing or food, but there was a laptop in a sealed plastic case, a soaked sketchbooks, pencils and pens, as well as...

"Water!"

Thomas shouted eagerly, regretting it immediately as he pushed air from his hoarse windpipe. But it was worth it. Inside the pack were a pair of plastic bottles of water. Both perfectly sealed. In the grand scheme of things, this wasn't much for two survivors, but given his own parched throat, this was a blessing. He took one of them, before raising his eyes to where Hannah was and waving to her, the bottle clutched in one hand.
 
Hannah didn't know what Thomas had found, but her own pile was a jackpot. The big thing was a steam trunk that was locked, but looked as if was water tight. If she could find a way to open it up, there was no telling what kind of treasures might be in there.

The real treasure though was the survival kit that probably come off of, or out of, a lifeboat. There was a flare gun, a multitool, a water purifier, a variety of boxed and dehydrated foods in watertight bags, matches, flashlights and a variety of other survival items. There was also two packs of bottled water, with 24 bottles in each pack.

A crate of different canned foods had also washed up on the shore,. Fortunately, that multitool should be able to handle that.

The presence of the crate and the trunk did beg the question of how they had got off the boat. Did this mean that something had happened to the ship?

Hannah had picked up a rock and was taking it to the lock of the trunk when Thomas yelled out "Water!"

Hannah felt a little guilty for not having yelled out her discovery, but she had been so caught up in what she had found that she had temporarily forgotten about Thomas.

"Water here too!" she shouted back, before slamming down on the lock of the trunk. It burst open with the first hit. Inside were a ton of clothes, all dry. A quick glance showed clothes that, at the very least, could be modified and made wearable.
 
From where she was standing, Hannah would be able to see a brief look of disappointment cross his face, before it vanished and he waved back. The young man was glad to hear they'd have plenty of fresh drinking water, though he was a little disheartened he wasn't quite as helpful to his new friend as he might have hoped. Still, he would have plenty of times to prove himself as the male provider soon enough. Grasping the bag in one hand, he hobbled over as best he could to where Hannah was. While something deep inside him wanted to uncork one of the water bottles and drink deeply, Hannah deserved first taste, if he wanted to make sure she didn't think he was just a burden.

As he neared her, pulling the back with the watertight laptop case up on his back as he went, the young man extended one of the two water bottles to her. He gave her what he hoped would seem like a very masculine and strong smile--failing miserably to be anything less than boyish and naive--before he nodded to the trunk. "What did you find? Anything good?"
 
"More water, food, survival tools and clothing as well," she said, motioning to the veritable treasure she had discovered, before accepting the bottle of water he had offered. Hannah undid the top and drained half the bottle in one swig.

"Why don't we drag everything off the surf and into the shade?" Hannah suggested. Finding everything they had found was making her more confident. If they had some basics, they could survive. "We can figure out what we have, maybe eat something, then come up with a plan."
 
Thomas said nothing, only nodding in agreement. He was far too thirsty to speak. Far too hot as well, come to think of it. If he were less self-conscious, he might have removed the dripping shirt and jacket draped over his shoulders. As it was, the innocent lad was far too nervous of what Hannah might say were he to do so. He guessed he'd have to deal with it for now.

He hurried over to the bag, fitting his arm around the loop as he noticed a chance to impress Hannah. Grabbing onto the bag, he started pulling it through the sand--pushed on as much by enthusiasm as anything else. Between the two of them, it was doubtless only a couple of moments before the bag was across the soft sand of the beach and beneath the trees nearby. Thomas sat atop the bag, looking up at the sun. Wondering what time it was. The sun seemed to be decently high up in the sky, even if he wasn't sure it was the morning or afternoon. So they probably had some time to set up a camp.

"Maybe we should go inland, just a little bit. I bet if we look nearby we might find some berries or maybe a river. It would be nice to have a place we can get more food or water."
 
Hannah studied the sun, then face west. She extended her arms then flexed her hands so that her palms were facing herself. She began alternately placing her hands one on top of the other until her hands had reached the sun.

"Assuming sunset is about seven-thirty, it's one o'clock right now," Hannah said, unintentionally answering Thomas' question about what time it was. "We're both dehydrated, and it's roughly the hottest time of the day. Let's stay in the shade and get rehydrated. We'll get a couple of hours rest, then go scouting."
 
Thomas's eyes rested on Hannah as she gazed out at the horizon. It might have been the brief respite or maybe his body adjusting to its own weariness. But Hannah was...cute. No, not cute. The band girl with the taped glasses in his homeroom was cute. Hannah was...beautiful. With her body highlighted by the sun overhead, she almost looked like a heavenly creature. The rays of the sun glowed down on her dark skin, what of it peered outside the tears on her dress or along the soft flesh or her arms and neck. I wonder what it would feel like to kiss it...

The sound of her voice cut into his sweet daydream, reminding him of where they were and why. The young man shook his head, as if trying to dispel his natural desires before Hannah had a chance to look. What did she say though? Something about the time--it was one, right. And they were dehydrated. He looked away from her quickly as she began to turn. He was nervous enough about being stranded on this island without Hannah noticing him staring. He could feel the sand in his thick black hair and the salt on his pale skin, but as much as he wanted to wash Hannah was right. They were too thirsty to go on now. Best wait until they recooped.

He pulled two bottles from the backpack he had found, planting one in the soft sand beside him and passing the other to Hannah. As her eyes came in view, his eyes met hers for a moment. Before the embarrassment came back, and the shy man had to look away. "H-here."
 
Hannah took the bottle of water with an absent minded nod, then sat down with her back against a tree, drinking the water while lost in her own thoughts.

If Thomas had been embarrassed when he locked eyes with Hannah, he needn't have worried. He might have locked eyes with Hannah, but her eyes never stopped moving. There wasn't a split second when she had been gazing into his eyes. There had been grabbing the waer and then looking past Thomas. Through him, Even around him.

Part of Hannah was worried, sad, terrified, a ton of negative emotions. Bur all those emotions were getting pushed down. Something else, a clinical stoic part of her mind, a part she didn't even know existed, had taken over, and was determined to get her out of here alive.

With that thought or non-thought in mind, Hannah looked out over the ocean and to the horizon as she drank her water.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom