The Mating Run

Chapter 18

Touch

Like a foreboding gateway to an uncertain refuge, the cave’s entrance looms ahead. With a blend of relief and nervousness, | venture into its refreshing and damp interior. Clutching the can of beans and the bunch of berries in my hands, | feel like a desperate survivor in this unforgiving forest.

Stepping inside, | am greeted by the welcoming embrace of the musty scent of damp earth and the soft glow emanating from the small fire pit. However, the comfort quickly fades away. The flickering shadows on the cavernous walls seem to come alive, making my nerves tingle with unease. Gripped by the fear of the unknown, | frantically glance around, my eyes desperately searching for Zeke’s motionless body.

And there he is, no longer sprawled on the floor, but now leaning against the cave wall, his gaze fixated on the dark void of his own mind. As the fire flickers, eerie shadows dance across his face, intensifying the hollow gaze that meets mine. My stomach tightens with fear as my mind races to make sense of the scene unfolding before me.

“Zeke?”

Cautiously, | call out and hear the echo of my own voice bouncing off the walls. in the confined space. His eyes, once fierce with aggression, now reflect an eerie vacancy that sends a chill down my spine. As | hold the knife, its weight offers little reassurance against the uncertainty that lies ahead.

Not a word escapes his lips as his stare remains fixated on the cave floor, as though caught in the grip of a terrifying daydream. Tension thickens the air, making each step a delicate dance with the tightening grip of fear in my chest.

“Zeke, it's me, Alina.”

I say, my voice quivering despite my efforts to project confidence. The memory of his earlier aggression looms large in my thoughts, casting a palpable sense of fear over every interaction.

118

Touch

Touch

Like a foreboding gateway to an uncertain refuge, the cave’s entrance looms ahead. With a blend of relief and nervousness, | venture into its refreshing and damp interior. Clutching the can of beans and the bunch of berries in my hands, | feel like a desperate survivor in this unforgiving forest.

Stepping inside, | am greeted by the welcoming embrace of the musty scent of damp earth and the soft glow emanating from the small fire pit. However, the comfort quickly fades away. The flickering shadows on the cavernous walls seem to come alive, making my nerves tingle with unease. Gripped by the fear of the unknown, | frantically glance around, my eyes desperately searching for Zeke’s motionless body.

And there he is, no longer sprawled on the floor, but now leaning against the cave wall, his gaze fixated on the dark void of his own mind. As the fire flickers, eerie shadows dance across his face, intensifying the hollow gaze that meets mine. My stomach tightens with fear as my mind races to make sense of the scene unfolding before me.

“Zeke?”

Cautiously, | call out and hear the echo of my own voice bouncing off the walls in the confined space. His eyes, once fierce with aggression, now reflect an eerie vacancy that sends a chill down my spine. As | hold the knife, its weight offers little reassurance against the uncertainty that lies ahead.

Not a word escapes his lips as his stare remains fixated on the cave floor, as though caught in the grip of a terrifying daydream. Tension thickens the air, making each step a delicate dance with the tightening grip of fear in my chest.

“Zeke, it's me, Alina.”

I

I say, my voice quivering despite my efforts to project confidence. The memory of his earlier aggression looms large in my thoughts, casting a palpable sense of fear over every interaction.

[e)

17:03 Wed, 6 Mar

Touch

In the dimly lit cave, the flickering firelight casts intriguing shadows on the walls, adding an element of mystery as | approach him with caution. As | grip the knife tightly, its metallic surface glimmers, offering a frail reassurance amidst the haunting uncertainty. “Are you okay?”

ask, and the words hover in the air, suspended like a delicate thread.

His gaze flickers, briefly acknowledging my presence, but there’s a distant emptiness that renders my words incomprehensible. As | remember our earlier confrontation, a shiver runs down my spine, recalling the feral intent in his eyes.

“So, | went out to get some food.”

Holding out the can of beans and the berries, | cautiously extend them as a peace offering. | catch a glimpse of recognition in his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as a flickering flame, leaving me with a haunting fear that he could betray

me once more.

The unnerving silence hangs in the air as | cautiously take another step, desperately trying to decipher his intentions.

“Zeke, say something to me. Are you okay?”

| press, my voice trembling with a desperate plea for understanding.

His eyes, filled with a haunted intensity, finally meet mine as he looks up. The vacant look in his eyes fills me with an instinctual dread, a sign that the forest's malice has scarred him. The knife quivers in my grasp, a feeble attempt to shield myself from the tempestuous turmoil brewing inside him.

“Zeke, how are you feeling?”

l_ask, my voice filled with a delicate concern. | watch as he blinks, the fever-induced fog lifting from his eyes. A raspy whisper escapes as his lips slowly part, uttering a single word.

17 03 Wed, 6 Mar

Touch

“Weird.”

“Weird?”

Achuckle escapes my lips, and with it, my worry melts away into a soft laughter.

“Weird is an improvement from what you were before.”

The tension in the cave lifted slightly, and a faint breeze whispered through the narrow passages. | knelt beside him, and his intense gaze never wavered, momentarily forgetting about the can of beans and bunch of berries.

“It's because you're sick, dork.” With a mischievous smile, | teased him while my fingers grazed his forehead. His skin felt scorching hot under my touch, causing me to involuntarily wince. “Zeke, you're like a living furnace.”

“Dork?”

His words echoed through the empty cave, his voice sounding h oa rse and strained.

| nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Yeah, you’re such a dork. You'd have to be a total dork to get a fever during the Mating Run.”

He managed a weak smile, his lips trembling slightly at the corners. He furrowed his brow, his disoriented mind grappling with the fog of illness as he tried to make sense of the situation. | froze at that, not really knowing that he could even smile in the first place. His unexpected grin caught me off guard.

But now that he was smiling, | couldn’t help but notice how strange it looked. If he had been nicer and not a total jerk, he would have been an amazing potential mate.

“Why?”

He mumbled, his eyes still reflecting a trace of confusion.

[e)

Touch

“So, you fell and cracked your head open, and this could be your body’s way of fighting an infection. You’re most likely starving and running on just a few hours of sleep. That's gonna get you sick, and well, here we are.”

| replied, my tone laced with a gentle yet genuine concern.

“But no worries, Nurse Alina is here to save the day.”

“Nurse Alina?”

“Let's be honest, you can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

| brandished the knife with a playful grin, feeling its weight in my hand, knowing it would serve as my makeshift can opener in this culinary adventure. With a satisfying pop, the metallic edges of the can yielded, and a small surge of triumph washed over me. “Behold, the culinary prowess of Nurse Alina!”

| declared triumphantly, holding the opened can aloft like a prized possession.

Zeke, still half asleep but entertained, observed the spectacle unfold.

“Wow.”

With a hint of amusement in his voice, he mumbles his words. In response, | let out a chuckle, determined to make the best of this unpleasant situation.

“Get ready, nerd. Time to dig into some grub.”

| announce, the sharp scent of beans filling the air as | dip the knife into the can. As | scoop a spoonful, | feel the awkwardness of using my fingers instead of proper utensils. Improvisation is key, and | extend my hand toward Zeke, the spoonful trembling on its delicate balance.

“Say ‘ahhh,’ Mr. Gourmet.”

Opening his mouth wide, he eagerly awaits as | delicately place the beans onto

Touch

Wed, 6 Mar

9.67%

his tongue. | can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room, as he looks incredibly foolish. | really hope that after all this, | could gather every single picture of Zeke and compile them into my own album so | can have a good laugh. “Fine dining at its best, right?”

Zeke grins, his eyes lighting up with a renewed sparkle.

“Hmmmhmm.”

Between bites, he replies, and | find myself entertained by the sight of him — his messy hair, his flushed face, and his voracious appetite as he devours the beans.

“Now, for the piéce de résistance!”

With a dramatic gesture, | present the berries, their vibrant colors catching everyone’s attention. Without any utensils in sight, | have to think outside the box. | pluck a juicy berry from the bunch and hold it up, its vibrant red color glistening in the sunlight. “Presenting the airborne berry delivery system. Open wide, dork.”

With a foolish smile plastered on his face, he plays along while | skillfully toss the berry into the air. Zeke skillfully tilts his head and catches it in his mouth, a victorious smile lighting up his face.

“Bravo, bravo!”

| let out a cheer, my hands coming together in a mocking applause.

As our impromptu dinner continues, the aroma of simmering beans fills the air, accompanied by the sound of joyful laughter and friendly banter. Despite the dire circumstances, the cave reverberates with laughter and the sound of shared absurdity.

Zeke’s hunger proves insatiable, and | can’t help but notice the way he devours his food, barely pausing to breathe.

17:03 Wed, 6 Mar

Touch

“Hey, can you slow down? You're not in a food-eating contest, dumbas s.”

I can’t help but laugh as | shake my head in disbelief at his insatiable hunger. He shoots me a sheepish grin, his mouth still full of beans, and | can’t help but appreciate the raw authenticity of the moment.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

Between bites and laughter, | can taste the refreshing blend of herbs as | reach for the water bottle | had prepared earlier. “Time for a palate cleanser.”

| declare, presenting the drink to Zeke, inviting him to take a sip. He eagerly quenches his thirst with the cool water, which serves as a refreshing counterpoint

to the unique flavors of our meal.

Zeke, now adorned with remnants of our makeshift feast, is a charming mess- his hair tousled, a hint of berries adding a touch of whimsy to his flushed cheeks. In his disoriented state, there is a delicate vulnerability that resonates with me, intensifying the tenderness we share.

Unable to contain my amusement, a chuckle escapes my lips as | behold the

comical sight in front of me.

“You, sir, are a masterpiece.”

| proclaim with a grandiose gesture, drawing attention to the colorful smudges on his face, a living testament to our culinary escapade. A faint grin tugs at Zeke’s lips, as his feverish eyes dance with a blend of amusement and disorientation. “Masterpiece.”

The word hangs in the air, echoing, as he draws it out in a single, breathy syllable, his voice a mix of exhaustion and playfulness. With mischief sparkling in my eyes, | cautiously approach, my fingertips ready to sweep away the traces of our meal from his cheek. As my fingertips softly caress his skin, a quiet energy fills the air between us, cra ckling with anticipation.

[e)

17:03 Wed, 6 Mar

Touch

“There, looking less dorky now.”

With a mischievous tone, | tease, my laughter mingling with the comforting cra ckle of the fire. Despite the fever-induced haze, his gaze locks with mine, revealing an undeniable intimacy in his willingness to let me in.

“Thanks.”

Involuntary yawns escape me, each one a reminder of the exhaustion that weighs heavily on both Zeke and me. | can barely keep my eyes open, and Zeke looks just as exhausted.

In the midst of this shared fatigue, Zeke’s request breaks the silence like a whisper in the wind. “Can I...sleep on your lap?” He asks, his voice a gentle murmur that seems to carry a weight of vulnerability and unspoken emotions. A tender smile graces my lips, as if it had a life of its own. With a chuckle, | give a light pat to my knees and roll my eyes in jest.

“Come here.”

I reply, shifting my position to create a makeshift pillow for him, adjusting myself to provide some comfort. As Zeke snuggles up beside me, his head finds a soft resting place on my lap, his warm breath tickling my skin.

The cave embraces us in a cocoon of tranquility, the fire’s glow casting a soft radiance on Zeke’s features. As he lies there, a hush falls over the surroundings, and my heart fills with a gentle warmth.

In the stillness, Zeke’s voice breaks the silence, resonating through the air with an unexpected sweetness.

“You smell nice.”

He murmurs softly, his warm breath gently caressing my skin.

As his words reach my ears, a blush creeps across my cheeks, revealing my embarrassment.

1/01 Wed, 6 Mai (

“Didn’t you mention that | smelled bad back then?”

My voice carries a playful tone as | tease, genuinely curious about the answer.

His chuckle fills the cave with a soft and affectionate resonance,

“Lied.”

His admission holds a certain weight, as if it contains unspoken truths that resonate beyond mere words.

Before | can delve into the meaning behind his words, | hear the gentle sound of his rhythmic breathing, signaling that sleep has claimed him. With Zeke nestled in the warmth of my lap, | can feel his gentle breaths as he surrenders to the embrace of dreams, leaving my unspoken questions lingering in the stillness of the night air,

While looking at his peaceful slumber, a whirlwind of emotions stirs inside me. The cave, once filled with echoes of shared laughter, now exudes an atmosphere of vulnerability and unspoken confessions. As the fire dwindles, it still manages to cast a soft glow, illuminating the contours of Zake’s face and highlighting the trust that has bloomed between us.

I

With a gentle touch, | brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, feeling its softness against my fingertips.

718