Freshened up under the warm quilt, the lovers lay on the mellow bed. Neva fondles Rhett's hair in an attempt to soothe him to sleep—and dry the rinsed locks. Bearing heavy eyelids, he slips into dreamland, slumbering, his face nestled on her chest.
Neva gazes down at him, the mirroring countenance of Rhett and Ishmael bothering her.
She hesitated asking Rhett before, assuming he would wish to avoid Ishmael's conversation. Moreover, he was weary and cold. They were deprived of rest, she figured it was best to defer the discussion.
Ishmael's words and actions pesters her as she exhales exhausted.
She kisses affectionately his fluffy hair, leaning back she closes her eyes—slowly drifting off to sleep.
(The next morning)
"Angel wake up," Rhett whispers in Neva's ear, his voice hoarse and deep. As she squirms under the covers, Rhett peppers kisses on her features, having her whine.
"We need to leave." He holds her close, burying his face on her chest, he's laying down still.
After a moment of quietness, Neva opens her eyes. "Where do we go now?" Half asleep, she queries, wrapping her arms around him, snuggling in to him. The most they slept were merely three hours.
"We'll travel to where the breeze blows safer." Muffled he utters, sowing a dewy kiss on her neck. Neva caresses his fluffy hair, her eyes filled with remorse.
"He told me things I found inconceivable.'' Neva declares, having Rhett's head tilt up, their gaze threading.
"Raka?" His eyes darkens, a bitter name in his tongue.
"Raka? His name was Ishmael." Neva frowns. "Raka is the name he uses underworld." He explains.
"What did he want Angel? Did he touch you?" His tone hardens, heart quickening it's pace. He's angry and anxious.
Neva shakes her head, "But he said he wants to be with me."
"He said what?" His voice grim, Neva gulps nervously from nervous his terrifying gaze.
"Rhett," Neva meekly mumbles.
Closing his eyes, he sighs. "What rubbish did he gagged out again?"
Neva bites her lower lip. Buffing she moves away from him, exposing herself from the warmth of the quilt, she shivers at the cold creeping in.
His gaze trails her form walking towards the window, wrapping arms around herself.
Sliding away the lacy curtain, she peers through the snow paned window, blurry from dew she wipes it clear, unveiling the hazy nature.
The snow ceased falling, the violet and orange sky cracking dawn. She breathes out exhaling faint vapour, her close breath, fogging the window. Breaking her out from trance, Rhett's arms wrap around her fram —nestling his head on the crook of her neck.
"Miraeth Island." Neva utters. Rhett forrows his eyebrows. "What?"
Neva pauses for a moment, her hands grabbing onto his own. "He said we were from an Island named Miraeth, that we grew up together. Until I disappeared nine years ago."
"And you believe him?" He asks, when suddenly the rumbling noise of cars nears their Inn.
The silhouette ls of countless cars closing in, Neva feels her heart drop, "Rhett," Neva looks at him as he pulls away to glance through the window.
"Not again," His eyes darkens.
Her hands gripping his arm clenching, he turns to face an aghast, rigid Neva.
He cups her face, "Neva look at me."
He forces her gaze to shift on him. "I won't even let them land a single scratch on you. We have to get away, and we have to be fast, alright?"
Neva nods, dazed and timid. Smiling reassuringly, he parts away from her, rushing to grab his weapons.
With his jacket, he approaches her and helps her put it on. Heavy, hurling footsteps nearing them.
Flinches Neva from a loud firing noise.
Neva's feet frozen feet, she stands there terrified. Rhett grabs her shoulders, "Neva, we're gonna be fine." Her glossy eyes gazing at him, her breathing quivering, he leans in and kisses her pursed lips.
Sprinkling reassurances through caresses—with hush whispers, nothing could harm her.
Ishmael was there on the SUV, scanning the place, a sullen look in his eyes. His thugs surrounded the Inn, while some are cautiously heading inside.
Just then, a grumbling noise of a bike catches his attention. He hunts the sound, when through the clearing fog, a motorbike speeds out from behind the Inn.
Ishmael clenches his jaw, he knows very well the girl clung to the man.
"Follow them!" Ishmael growls at his men. His intense glare could implare the fading forms.
Countless SUVs accelerates away, following a booming noise.