Young Writers Society

My apoligies guys, to save my writing I usually used my email but it's being maniacal...ergg...so I am posting this here. Its not all the second chapter so yeah I'll post it soon. Please go read Chapter On (The Lost King all of it). All comments are welcome.

The Lost King

Chapter Two – The Lady Awakes

The dark of the night receeded its dusky curtains and opened onton a sparkling bright day. Dew droplets clung to every leaf and flower and tree and shingle and shined glittered in the light.

Joshua came to wakefullness with the knowlegde itching in the back of his mind, tugging at the small hairs on the back of his neck, that he was not alone. Several burning ripples coursed through his back from sleeping hunched chair all night. And then with crisp realization he remembered her. There was the distinct sound of the television tuner being fiddled with, the static bit at the otherwise silent air. Sharply turning though it pained his back he remained mute and followed the young woman's slight flow as she found a station and receeded to settle, legs tucked neatly beneath her, at the foot of one of those horridly uncomfortable tv chairs. Munching quietly on a half eaten piece of toast, she seemed oblivious to his presence content in watching the morning news. He noticed, she moved with the barest minimum of motion, each was specific to nessesity – as if careless action was bred out of her by years of training. He relaxed there atent on her. She was wearing one of his long sleeve cotton shirts and plaid pajama bottoms; on her they were traitors, large and long against her petite frame. Her long honey stained hair was wet, the wisping long, water logged curls fanned out across her shoulders. Her noise was elfin as were her ears both turned slightly upwards at the tips. Flecks of gold drowned in the center of her caribbean blue, egyptian eyes. Bringing her sticky fingers to her pale pink lips, he watched entranced the hedonistic pleasure vision of that coral tongue peeking out of its hovel, swirling, swipping the traces of butter and crumbs away.

As if she had known her was watching her the entire time, she twisted towards him, her back bending in a slight corkscrew manner and offered up a slight smile.

“Hello.”

Joshua found his mouth worked after all, “Hello.”

She broke the heavy, clamy, cligging trance.

“I'm sorry, oh god where are my manners I'm Lainey.”

Again Joshua found he could only reply, “Joshua.”

She peered at him and he quickly looked away.

“Hmm...Joshua...nice name from the Hebrew meaning salvation of God. I like it, though I can call you Josh right.”

Joshua smiled, “No problem, Josh is fine with me.”

Yeah, Josh was perfectly fine, too many years of 'Joshua' being screamed at him made him secretly detest his full name. Yeah, Josh was just fine.

He stretched and proceeded to get up, he found her doing the same before she turned off the TV.

“Please excuse my bad manners Josh, I didn't wake you, you looked so peaceful there sleeping. I hope I'm not inconviencing you. I'll be out of your hair before you can say 'Dr. Livingston, I pressume'. I did fix some toast though.”

Joshua reached out and caught her thin wrist with his broad hand. He wanted to know this girl – this young woman, wanted to know what drove her into the storm the night before. She had kindled the warmth of imagination lost to him for so long. It egged him on, drove his thoughts in one singular direction.

“Lainey, listen last night -” embarrased suddenly, he really wanted to apoligise but he didn't know what happened.

She looked at him strangley, “If this is one of those 'forgive me for <insert vice here>' statements forget it.”

Her wrist was soft and warm beneath his fingers and he found himself unconciously rubbing circles into the supple, velvety underside. At first she tugged by paused as he continued the simple minstrations.

“Listen, we need to talk.” He said shortly before his senses got the better of him, there was something undenialably sexy about a woman in his (your) clothes, her skin was smooth and light under his, and dew-speckled lips so enviting, slightly parted. Sharing the same air space with her sent his judgement for a carnival ride.

She nodded slowly, and followed him to the kitchen, where he tinked around with the coffee pot.

“Last night, I not sure how much you remember, but I found you on the side of my road, unconcious. Dr. Christensen in town checked you out and said you were fine but suggested I take you to Mercy, if there are any more problems. You feel alright?”

“Yes,” Her voice was soft, low, and cut like a frigid scalpal straight to the bone,“Just peachy.”

At that moment Joshua thought, in the dusty light of the cabin kitchen, she looked so young and lost. The twitch of heat was swept away and replaced with the fervor of protection, somehow he would get her home and safe.