“Byron,” I said. “Not a poet I like so much. Too much whining.”
Raine laughed.
“Don’t you know anything romantic?” she asked, “or is it all related to the water?”
“I know a few.” I looked at her sideways. She smiled and blushed, which gave my cock a good kick-start.
“Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.”
“Beautiful,” Raine said, “and it sounds familiar.”
“Coleridge,” I told her. “Had enough?”
“Maybe for now,” Raine said with a nod. “I can’t believe you have a master’s degree.”
“Why not?”
“It just doesn’t…fit.” Raine tilted her head to one side and looked at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it does. Actually, now that I’ve heard you quote poetry, I think it does fit.”
“You should rest,” I said, shaking my head. “You obviously need some sleep to gain your senses back, and you need to save your strength.”
“I feel like all I have done for days is sleep.”
“It is all you have done,” I confirmed. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need more.”
Raine sighed and gave in, scooting herself to the back of the raft.
“Shouldn’t you rest, too?” she asked.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt,” I said. “I’m going to try fishing again at some point but not yet. We shouldn’t eat anything else again right away anyway – our stomachs need some recovery time. We have plenty of water for now, so it is a good time to eat.”
Raine straightened out the blanket-towel and spread herself out on top of it. I finished the cup of water in my hand, checked the collection system, and sealed up the front part of the raft before I moved to lie next to her.
Once I lay back down, I immediately put my arm around Raine’s shoulders and pulled her to me before I thought about what I was doing. I froze up instantly, not sure how she was going to take the gesture. I had held her for the better part of the last two days, but she had been dehydrated, near death, and scared. She had color back in her face now, and her eyes were bright again. She probably didn’t want me touching her at all.
While I debated what I should do, Raine rolled to her side, wrapped her arm around my waist, and placed her head on my shoulder, just like she had during most of the last forty-eight hours. Her hair spewed out all over me, and I found it oddly comforting.
“Will you tell me something else about yourself?” Raine asked quietly. I could still see the sparkle of her eyes in the receding light.
“I don’t know what else to tell you about,” I said. “It’s all just as fucked up as what you already heard. You have to be some sort of glutton for sob stories.”
“No, I don’t,” Raine said, shaking her head. “I told you – I want to know you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to understand,” she said again. “If I understand, maybe I can help you.”
“Help me what?”
“You don’t have to live like this, Bastian. There are other options.”
“There aren’t any options,” I said, trying to keep myself from actually snarling at her. “This is what you get, Raine. An alcoholic, mean, fucked up asshole. Once someone finds us, you aren’t going to have any use for me at all.”