Ryann’s aching legs dug into the sand, sinking with every tired step. Sweat flung from his forehead, caught in the wind, in his blond locks, in the ravenous sea. He panted heavily, his lungs desperate for a relaxed breath of air. The beach seemed to stretch out endlessly as his clammy fingers dug out his cell phone from his pocket. Two whole hours had passed. He had sworn it had felt like four. The longer he searched, the louder his knees yowled in pain, the more hopeless it seemed.
But he wouldn’t accept that she was really gone. He fought against his fatigue. He ignored the screams of protest. He still believed in his aching heart that she was still out there.
She had to be alive still.
His swollen eyes scoured the continuous azure of the sea, frantically turning toward every little movement caught by his peripherals. He hadn’t bothered to search the spiteful town or the dense forest. He knew Myah, and she had to be on the beach. There wasn't anywhere she'd rather be.
He screamed her name again, and the wind lifted his cry, carrying it for miles. His voice was hoarse, and his throat finally gave out in his measly attempt to call out for her again. Now, every scream was just a tired squeak, no louder than the terrified wails of a mouse beneath a fat cat’s paws. He focused what little energy he could gather and continued racing along the sand, allowing his tired voice a moment of rest.
But just as he shut his lips to ease his throat, he caught sight of a buoy far off in the distance. His throbbing ankles skidded to a stop, kicking up the fine grains of sand. His knees, weak from such strain, buckled beneath his weight, and the skin of his shins were seared in the sun-baked sand. Ryann strained his eyes, panting heavily. He couldn’t recognize the buoy or remember who it belonged to, but the crimson color of it was so familiar, it forced him to a halt.
Rubbing the salty tears and sweat from his eyes, he realized with an elated gasp that it wasn't a buoy at all!
"M-Myah?" His voice was still gruff and tired, he could barely recognize it. His pounding heart desperately hoped this was not a mirage created by his parched mind. He swallowed hard, hoping to remoisten his dry throat. Cupping his palms around his lips, he called out, “MYAH!”
The red buoy turned around, revealing dull honey eyes framed by wet locks of scarlet.
Ryann’s chest welled with unkempt joy at the sight of her peachy face, alive and well. Raising his arms up and waving them frantically, his forced his raspy voice to cry out to her. "MYAH! Myah! Swim over here!" He beckoned her with worried waves, not daring to wade out into the vicious sea.
Despite the desperate pleas to come to shore, Myah turned back toward the ocean, dazing off in its rhythmic sways. How she managed to drift off so far into the sea’s soothing stroke, she didn't know. She just needed a few more moments in its calm embrace.
“MYAH?!”
She winced at the brittle disquiet in his tone, noting how exhausted it sounded as the wind’s wings. Staring out at sea for another moment, expecting the impossible, she set down her expectations and waded back toward shore. Her muscles ached, but her mind was adrift elsewhere, not caring to pay enough attention to the shrieks of pain that cackled from her joints. As soon as her bare toes brushed against the sand beneath her feet, she began to walk toward the beach, every step a little heavier than the last.
Ryann waited anxiously, pacing back and forth with the lapping waves. How long would it be before Myah was safely out of the ocean? How long would it be before he could wrap his arms around her, making sure she was tangible and real and not just a wonderful nightmare?
As her shoulders peeked from beneath the waves, he smiled happily, but didn’t dare to run in. When the waterline rested beneath her breast, then hugged at the middle of her waist, he still waited restlessly on dry land. It wasn’t until the water caressed the bend of her knee that he ignored his panicked fear, rushing in to pick up the doll-like girl, carrying her back to shore. He ignored the hiss of pain from his muscles, knowing she would have been exhausted as well. As soon as they were out of the ocean’s straining finger’s, Ryann collapsed to his knees, his arms tightly wound around the mopping wet girl, his inescapable sobs buried in the nape of her neck.
Myah set her spinning head against his shoulder, shivering under her soaking clothes. Goose bumps remained where his fiery tears trailed down her frigid skin. Her gaze settled on the back of his head, tracing every blond strand in an attempt to ignore the pit of loathing in her gut. She had never seen Ryann so distraught before, he was always done his mourning or crying in private, and she hated herself for forcing this part out of him. With a shaky, tentative breath, she pulled out an arm from under him and softly smoothed his golden locks, pressing her cheek up against him.
"I thought I lost you, Myah...” His tone held no hatred, no harshness, just a vast amount of relief. “Right when I had you back... I really thought you were gone. I went to the cliff..." His grip tightened instinctively, and his gruff voice livened accusingly, hoping she would deny it.
Myah flinched back at the bite in his tone, and her hand froze atop his head. Balling her hand into a fist, she lifted her cheek from its resting place, finding a scowl on Ryann’s tear-stricken face.
"Where did you go?” Jaw tight, he growled like a wounded bear, not amused by her reaction if his fears did turn out to be wrong.
She knew she had to tell him the truth. She couldn't lie to him. She could never lie to Ryann. She sucked in a brave breath, repaying his driving kindness with an honest answer. "I did go to the cliff..." she whispered, her voice low, but strong.
Ryann's heart stopped beating.
"Just like your mom..." she finished.
His blood went icy cold.
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