Joemdpaddlesacross

From Create Your Own Story

Revision as of 19:26, 19 August 2015

You put yourself, him, and the bags in the boat with almost complete failure. You are resigned to in his lap with the bags in your own, and the two of you awkwardly begin to paddle down the island. Wes merely begins singing a song, and you would slap him if you could turn around at all. The raft makes it almost a fourth of the way before it begins heavily taking in water. The singing stops nearly immediately, and without warning, you are upside down, in the river.

You wake with your chest aching. Wes is above you, quite relieved. He sits back, completely sopping wet. His hat is gone, and his boots are missing. You feel your chest, and realize your hoodie is open.

"CPR." He says without delay.

You move your hands to your mouth. "I was dying?"

"Just chest compressions." Wes looks completely exhausted, and he lays back. You look to the side and see a bag there.

"You brought a bag." You say, almost stupidly. You feel tired and aching as well. You drag it closer to you - it is yours.

"It's yours." He says too late, still breathing hard.

You try and zip the hoodie back up, but in his haste, Wes apparently had ripped off the end of the zipper entirely. You stand over him, holding the hoodie together.

"Give me your shirt." You say. Wes looks up to you, still breathing hard. His expression is incredulous.

"What?"

"Just give it." Your bra is wet, you know, and you want the cover. Wes slowly lifts his shirt off his head, barely lifting himself off the ground. You see his muscles - he is a swimmer, you forget sometimes. He hands it to you.

"It's just as wet."

You turn around, taking off the hoodie and putting the shirt on. It is heavier, you know, but you feel safer in it. Why do you feel safer in it? You roll up the sleeves and note the ends of the shirt go half way down your thighs. You look back to Wes, who apparently was blankly staring at you. "What?" You demand.

"Nothing, just, well, are we doing this still?"

"Of course we are. We still have paint. I just need to scale the building, and make a four story tag."

"I just..." Wes looks away. "This will sound stupid, maybe, but if we are going to walk around in the mansion, or step around out here in the rocks, I'm out of my boots. I can wrap my feet up like moccasins - it'll help me get around, if I had some stuff to do so."

You gesture to the wet useless hoodie. "Right. That's one foot." He says. "Unless you want me to rip it up."

"What would the other foot be?" You are hardly in the mood to deal with his feet at the moment.

"Maybe your leggings? I mean you've got my shirt - it's long." He holds his hands up. "Look, you don't have to. It's just a thought."

You look down, seeing the shirt does indeed cover you like a dress, though still, you do not like the idea of being without your leggings - they were your pants. You could give him both the hoodie and the leggings, or let him ruin the hoodie. It's not like you have a shortage of those.