A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, but her nervous energy lingers.
“You live down here?”
“Not down this particular road, but close enough.”
He keeps his eyes focused in front of him. The road before them is dark, unlit, and bumpy. A swamp emerges on their left, and menacing cypress trees knit together like a screen to their right.
“So why are we going down this way if you don’t live here?” she asks, posturing bravado. She clutches her seat belt like it’s a weapon.
He pulls into a dirt patch near the swamp and cuts the engine. Finally, he smiles over at her.
“The air is so nice tonight. I thought we could go for a walk,” he reassures.
“It’s, like, pitch-black,” she protests but can’t help but follow like a lamb to slaughter.
He smiles, walking toward her. He can see her stiffen as he strides into her space. He leans forward, and she sucks in a quick breath just as he reaches into the open car window to snatch a flashlight. He wiggles it in front of her face and then clicks it on. The inorganic sound cuts through the silence.
“Not anymore,” he says with a wink, taking her hand in his.
Somewhere in her brain, she can feel herself in danger. Her body tenses, and her pupils dilate. Together they stroll into the deep darkness stretched out in front of them. The only light is the moon, which is close to full. Its light is bright white and gives the whole area a slight glow. She is gripping his hand. She clings to it as a child would cling to their parent’s. He squeezes it in a simulated show of comfort. They walk in silence for a few minutes, both examining the terrain around them, though for completely different reasons.
“It’s actually kind of pretty out here. It’s still really creepy but pretty.”
She startles at a twig snapping in the distance, and her body instinctively leans closer to his out of fear. He can’t help but smile at the irony. He is far and away the greatest threat to her safety in this bayou.
“Yeah, but all things worth considering are an amalgamation of scary and beautiful. How boring it is to fit into only one category.”
“I bet you assume I don’t know what amalgamation means, huh?” She pauses and looks up at him, smirking in a way that makes her look more attractive than she did in the badly lit bar.
He grins back, waiting for her to continue walking. She shakes her head as they make their way toward a wooden bench by the water. It’s crudely cut and clearly handmade, but somehow also inviting, making the filthy swamp look peaceful. They sit side by side and look out at the moon’s reflection on the surface of the murky water.
“I passed the bar exam, you know. Believe it or not, cleavage doesn’t correlate with intelligence.”
She is smiling good-naturedly. He doesn’t respond right away, taking a moment to feign scratching his leg to feel for the holster holding his hunting knife firmly in place near his ankle.
“Guilty.” He straightens up, casting his eyes on her. “You are a good example of the dangers of judging a book by its cover.”
She laughs softly, playfully bumping her shoulder into his. “That’s a strange compliment, but I’ll take it.”
“How generous of you.”
“How could I really be mad at that face?” she admits, and places a hand on his left cheek, turning his face slightly to meet hers. She closes her eyes and begins to move forward, initiating a kiss. He hesitates only slightly before moving to close the distance, almost touching her lips with his own. Once he can feel her breath meet his, he speaks softly.
“You should run.”
The words slither out of his mouth. Her breath hitches, and she smiles nervously. She keeps her face close to his but pulls back just slightly to look into his eyes.