6. My Savior
1239 Words
I stand beside Axel, my hand in his, both of us gazing out at the Hawaiian sunset.
It is surreal, this moment, with the sand warm and yielding under our bare feet and the warmth of his fingers entwined with mine.
"Look at that," Axel breathes, his voice barely above the murmur of the ocean. "It's like the sky's on fire."
"Beautiful," I agree, but my eyes are on him, not the sunset. I still can't believe I am here with Axel of all the people. But as I look at his face, I don't feel bad about it. Has he always been so devastatingly handsome?
"Chloe," he said, turning to face me, his eyes reflecting the vast ocean before us. "I never want to forget this moment."
"Neither do I." My heart races, a cocktail of adrenaline and something darker churning inside.
He pulls me closer, and for a second, I let myself sink into his embrace, the familiar scent comforting me. We stand like that, the rest of the world fading to nothingness.
"Have you ever tried this?" Axel's voice pulls me from my thoughts, his hand gesturing toward a group of surfers dancing upon the waves.
"Surfing?" I laugh, shaking my head. "No, but it looks fun."
"Yes, it is," he grins. "You should try. I can teach you." His excitement is infectious.
I follow him towards the surf shack, the scent of coconut oil and saltwater growing stronger. The attendant—a bronzed local with a laid-back smile—hands us each a surfboard, offering us brief instructions.
A few minutes later, we find ourselves near the water, holding our surfboards.
"Come on, Chloe. It's easy," he calls over his shoulder as he heads toward the water.
"Easy for you to say." My words come out light, teasing, but inside, my heart thuds.
As we paddle out, something stirs inside me—a small fear. The rhythm of the ocean seemed to mock me, keeping time with my racing pulse.
"Wait," I breathe, pausing amidst the lapping waves. "Axel, I don't know—"
"What's wrong?" He glances back, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"Nothing. Never mind." Shaking my head, I push the thought away.
But it clings to me, persistent as the seaweed that brushes against my leg. The sensation is fleeting, gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only a trace of unease.
"Chloe, watch me!" Axel calls out, already standing on his board, mastering the water's rhythm with an ease.
"Wow," I murmur, more to myself than to him. His form, silhouetted, is perfect. I had no idea he was so good at surfing.
"Your turn!" he shouts, paddling back with a wide smile.
"Okay." I force enthusiasm. Tried to focus. But the nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen wouldn't let go.
I stand up, shaky and uncertain. The board wobbles under me. I teeter, arms flailing.
"Chloe, you've got it!" Axel's encouragement sounds distant, as if through water.
"Have I?" The words slip out. I blink rapidly, trying to dispel the visions that clouded my sight.
"Stay still, Chloe." Axel's voice anchors me, pulling me back to the present.
"Trying." It is all I can manage.
"Focus on the horizon. On me." Axel's instructions are firm and grounding.
"Right." Deep breath. In. Out.
"Good." He smiles, though concern lingers in his eyes.
"Did it again," I mutter. "Stood up."
"See? You learn faster than you think." His laugh holds a note of triumph.
"Right." I swallow the lump in my throat.
"Let's get back," I say suddenly, eager to escape the water's siren call and the weird feeling inside me.
"Already?" Disappointment shadows his features.
"Yeah. I am kind of tired. We should go eat," I suggest.
"Alright. Let's swim back. Race you to the shore!" His challenge slices through the rhythmic lapping of waves.
"Ha, you're on!" I say, falling flat on the board. I start swimming, paddling the board with my hand toward the beach.
Swim. Faster. I hear in my head. A voice from another time?
My strokes are frantic, more escape than competition. Axel's laughter reaches me from somewhere ahead, carefree and airy. Yet, an icy thread of doubt weaves through my joy.
"Chloe, come on!" Axel calls.
"I am coming." My voice betrays none of the unease constricting around my chest.
Then it happened—I felt like someone was yanking at my ankles. The saltwater stings my eyes as I fight to keep my head above.
What the hell?
"Help," I cough, the word barely leaving my lips before another wave crashes over me.
Panic claws at my throat. Legs flailing. Can't breathe.
"Chloe?" Axel's voice near me. Concerned? Or mocking?
"Axel!" my voice sounds like its drowned in liquid fear.
Why can't I swim? I'm strong. I've done this—
"Got you!" I hear his voice suddenly, his arms encircling me.
"What...what happened?" I whimper.
"Shh, I've got you."
But did he? Axel's grip was iron, sure, yet... hadn't he been too far away? How did he reach me so fast?
"Stay with me, Chloe."
He swims back with me. We collapse onto the sand, my lungs heaving sobs or relief—I am not sure which.
"Thought I lost you," he whispers, his breath warm against my cold cheek.
"I am not sure what happened." True, in more ways than one. Did I randomly forget how to swim?
"Let's get you inside." He sounds weirdly calm for someone whose wife almost died.
"Inside. Yes," I reply.
I cough, spasms hurting my body as I cling to Axel's sturdy frame. The shore is a blur through the tears that the ocean has forced from my eyes, and now fear is doing the same.
"Easy," he murmurs. "You're safe."
Then why don't I feel safe?
"Thank you," I manage.
"Of course," he replies, and there it was again—that invisible thread tugging at my intuition, whispering that something is wrong.
I stumble, and his arm tightens around me.
"Careful," Axel says, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch sent an unexplainable shiver down my spine, a cocktail of fear and something dangerously close to desire.
"Can't believe...that happened," I breathe out, watching our shadows dance on the sand in the moonlight.
"Neither can I," he answers.
We reach our room.
"Sit down," Axel instructs, guiding me to the bed. "I'll get some blankets."
As he disappears into another room, I wrap my arms around myself.
"Here," he says, returning with a bundle of softness that he drapes over my shoulders.
"Thanks," I whisper, my voice a fragile thing.
"Anything for you," he replies, and the sincerity in his tone fractures something inside me.
I want to believe him, to lose myself in the storybook ending where the hero saves the damsel and they live happily ever after. But something inside me makes me not want to trust him.
"Get some rest," he suggests, but as he turned to leave, a cold finger of doubt traced my spine.
"Stay," I utter as he tries to walk away. Even though I am suspicious of him, I want him by my side. I want him to hold me.
He pauses, then nods, settling beside me. And as I lean into his warmth, I fight my conflicting feelings.
Is Axel my savior, my lover, or is he my potential enemy?
- Writer
