Shelter

It's cold in this cave.

So, so cold.

I wonder if I'll ever make it out.

I pray I do.

Embers of a fire slowly dying fade into nothing before me, leaving a pallet of wintry gray rock to reflect the chill creeping upon my skin. I sit on the cold, unforgiving ground, arms wrapped around myself tightly, fingers shaking. A melancholy wind whistles outside; wisps of a chill breeze sneak through the cave's distant entrance; I silently plead to the dying fire before me to stay, stay and keep the cold from consuming me. But there is no more wood, and it's cold in this cave.

So, so cold.

I don't know how long I've been here- ages, it seems. Tired, hungry, I huddle against the harsh stiffness of a nearby rock tucked safely in a corner. I pinch my eyes shut and think of you. An image of your smile warms me slightly, pushing the dreary wetness of this place far away. I take in a deep breath of stale air as I think of our last meeting, of your warning, and release it heavily.

"Don't wander," you had said in that strong, protective voice, the one I never tell you sends shivers down my spine- the one that commands me; the voice that leaves me powerless to your will.

"It isn't safe," you told me with stern eyes and a stony gaze. "Stay close to camp."

But we argued, something stupid really- I can't even recall the reason. So, being the arrogant and selfish person that I am I didn't listen, I didn’t adhere to your warnings; I wandered, I strayed- I left the safety of your watchful eye and before long was lost, so lost, and afraid.

I found this cave some time ago; I've been here ever since. Tired from running through a treacherous forest, hungry, cold, fingers shaking, I sit here, waiting for something, anything- waiting for you.

"Stay put," you always say. "If you get into trouble stay put and I'll come find you." Your words resonate in the forefront of my mind as I nestle myself in this corner, surrounded by the dull grays of harsh stone, drifting into sleep before the fading embers of a fire slowly dying.

Fatigue claims me as the fire finally dies, and I drift off, chased by dreams of your voice, your words. "Don't wander," you say in that strong, protective voice. "It isn't safe."

I'm wrestled from my dreams of you by the sound of rain beating against the outside of this cave. I wonder where you are, if you're safe, warm. I wonder if you're sneezing, if you’re with cold. I tremble slightly in front of the dead fire and wonder if you’ll find me, if you’ll save me like you always do. I clutch that thought – a desperate blanket of security affording shelter from the bitter chill of reality.

These thoughts of you are again disturbed by a new noise, something coming from the entrance: footsteps. My heart stops; the rain has chased something into my little cave- knowing this forest, it's likely to be some ungodly beast seeking refuge and a warm meal.

A warm meal such as myself.

Too weak to fight whatever may be lurking nearby, I cower behind the cold stones in this corner. Tired, hungry, fingers shaking, I pinch my eyes closed once more and search for comfort in images of you as the creature, whatever it may be, approaches at a crawl. Footsteps begin and end, slowly moving toward me, searching, no doubt, for sustenance.

They move closer still, those menacing footsteps, and I freeze. There is a tightness in my chest; I can't breath; the footsteps continue- a dull clattering echoing against the walls, the rain, the throbbing in my ears- and all I can do is wonder why; why didn't I listen? Why did I have to wander?

You must be so angry with me.

They stop, ever so close to me, and I am left with nothing to do but prepare for what is to come. My fingers shake uncontrollably, cold and nervous; outside, the rain continues to beat relentlessly against the earth.

I ready myself for what is to come, thinking of you, condemning myself for not adhering to your words, when I hear it: something unexpected, something no foul beast on this earth could provide.

A voice: soft and slow, laced with desperate emotion.

"I told you not to wander," you say.

Your strong voice echoes throughout the cave, such a welcome contrast to the heartless rain. Fears of some venomous enemy escape me fleetingly, and I am left with a warm emptiness. I wonder momentarily if I am still dreaming and refuse to open my eyes- not wanting anything to take away from the rush of calm your voice provides. Before I know what's happening, I'm being lifted. I open my eyes to find you before me, effortlessly helping me to my feet. I stagger when I'm finally upright; I don't know if it's the fatigue or the overwhelming relief of seeing you before me, but you're there to lean against, to keep me safe, to protect me- and you're warm.

So, so warm.

We remain silent together, standing perfectly still, oblivious to the world around us. I rest my weight on your arms. Your composure is rigid, your breath slow and rhythmic. I move away to look at you; there's blood on your arm- an open wound. It's my fault, I know it, but you won’t dare blame me. Ever selfless, you take my hand as I reach for the gash and rub my palm in slow circles. Your hair hangs about your face, wet and messy as you watch me with a careful expression.

You're angry, I know it. You want to tell me a million times how stupid I am, how worried you were, but you don't. Ever selfless, you push your anger aside and allow me to cling to you as I struggle to regain my composure.

"I didn't move," I manage to say after careful deliberation. You look at me questioningly, concern creeping into the lines of your face. Raising a trembling hand, I brush your cheek with my palm, hoping to sweep away the concern as if it were dust, or cobwebs. "I stayed here and waited for you."

You look at me then and something in your face changes; the stony gaze dissipates, compassion arriving in its wake. Your eyes seem softer now, your expression less solemn. It's as if you've only just realized you've found me, you’ve only just realized I’m right here before you, shaking fingers brushing your skin, and the look in your eyes warms my heart so much I fear I might explode. You watch me this way, with soft, caring eyes, and the guilt from leaving your side returns to me. I feel ashamed, wrong, incompetent. I watch you look at me with such compassion and empathy and feel unworthy of you.

I wait for you to say something, anything, to scorn me, to scold me, to tell me you hate me, to tell me I’m the daftest woman on the face of the planet- but you simply watch, leaning into my cold, shaky hand as I continue to caress your cheek.

"I didn't move," I repeat again, somewhat unsurely, watching your face for any hint of forgiveness. You close your eyes and take in a slow, methodic breath.

"I know, my angel," you reply kindly. "I know."

You pull me close to you, wrapping your arms around me so tightly it hurts a little, but I welcome it, I welcome the overwhelming sense of security your arms provide. I welcome the scent of fresh rain in your hair, the feel of your body pressed so tightly against mine. I let go of my fear, my hunger, my pain, I leave it on the unforgiving floor of this cold, gray cave and allow myself to become completely enveloped in your warmth and comfort.

So safe, so sure, so utterly aware of my place in this world I cling to you and weep into your chest. Not out of lament or sorrow, rather, an insufferable burden lifts from my shoulders as I cry. You run your fingers through my hair, whispering sweet assurances as I continue to sob, the echoing rain continuing to beat against the outside of this cave.

Such a hero, you are; my hero. The devotion you show me is too much for words, so instead I weep and pray my tears send the right message.

Do you know how helpless I am without you? Do you know you’re the only reason I sought shelter in this cave, amidst harsh stone and an ominous storm?

I’ve never been one for words.

Please, please let these tears be proof of my undying need for you. Please let them serve as evidence that I am nothing without you, forever lost in an abysmal cave hidden in a forgotten pocket of a treacherous forest.

We stay this way for some time, you and I. I sob until there is nothing left inside of me; you hold me close, so close, as you caress my hair and continue to whisper. Gentle rays of an emerging sun grace the beginnings of this cold, gray cave, ushering away an indifferent storm; birds chirp in the distance, signaling the start of a new day, fresh and whole; my fingers stop shaking, and I’m no longer cold; you continue to hold me against you, as if time itself has stopped, and you have no intentions of trying to start it up again.

Neither do I.