Nate surprises himself humming an unknown tune. After a long day of work: a general civil mission that has started way too early – even for early birds – followed by several trainings and a long strategic meeting, he still feels exceptionally full of energy, and it isn't thanks to the warm shower he's just taken.

He quickly checks himself in the mirror, fixing his wet curls – though they will be messed again soon – and spraying some cologne on his neck, where he can glimpse some red marks peeking out from under his black tee-shirt. He should apply another layer of concealer, as this one is slightly fading, but he will do it later. He is sure he will have more to hide in a few hours. 

For now, he can't even conceal the most obvious mark: a grin inching on his features, so obvious that just out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of it, even if he's already averting his gaze from the mirror, which he's stared at longer than usual.

He shakes his head, trying to keep his head straight and not forget anything: his filled backpack on the bench a few feet away, and most importantly, his phone.

Yet when he closes his locker with his elbow, the light-hearted melody is still on the tip of his lips, along with a smile, and he has to keep both inside as he hears the water stop running behind the thin wall.

He lets the cheery rhythm set the pace for his movements as he hurries to escape the room before his colleagues get out of the shower. He isn't avoiding them, but looking at the time, a rush makes his steps faster, and although he's still early, he wants to avoid possible delays that could make him 'late'.

'Being on time is already late', that could be the lyrics for this melody he can't get out of his head because it's the sweet accent that guides him. 

However, his great gait is stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway by a familiar feminine silhouette talking with the colonel Munoz a few feet away, and the song is lost with the smooth voice.

"Nate, honey!"

"Pamela?!" His smile disappears in less than a second, and he can't hide his surprised flinch as she wraps one arm around his torso.

Though the jump is justified because besides the fact that he almost feels caught in the act, it's also exceptional to see Pamela standing here. In two years that they've been married, she must have come here, at his work, about two times, if he counts today.

"Colonel." He quickly regains his composure, bowing his head to the older man, who replies the same way, since they have already seen each other just this morning, and Nate isn't in the mood for more military talks.

He's already tensed enough as he turns back to his wife.

"What are you doing here?"

There must be a reason for her imperial presence here.

"I was near, so I thought I could come to pick you up at work." She shrugs, keeping her usual wide smile, and the light gesture is crashing down on Nate's stomach, while he has trouble swallowing the words.

"I'll leave you two because my day isn't over." The colonel Munoz interrupts before Nate could say anything – not that any word has been coming to his brain, and he's still silent when the colonel adds,

"Thank you for the invitation. I'll tell Karin."

"Of course, and give her our regards!"

Nate just nods him goodbye as the man is already walking away with his strict and imposing gait, and he still doesn't have anything to say, trying to process all this unexpected encounter.

"And I wanted to announce you I'm officially the new president of the association!" Pamela exclaims proudly, drawing back Nate's attention to her, as well as of the few people around in the quietness of the working hours.

"Um, congrats... again." He forces a smile, but Pamela doesn't notice his tepid interest, nor the hint of sarcasm in his voice, as she's already wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That's what I was talking about with the colonel: I invited him and his wife to my acceptance party. It can help to get your promotion," she explains, pulling away, or maybe it's him who is drawing back?

He's too tired to think about it, and it seems that just the mention of this party has sucked back all his cheerful energy.

Yet even with the impatience growing inside, he tries to keep his tone patient as he replies, "You know, the promotions are attributed on the seriousness and dedication of the work."

"Yes, but connections are always important," she points out, tugging on his hand as she starts to walk again, and as she leads him towards the main hall, his feet are instinctively dragging against the floor, slowing down, though not stopping completely, even if he could easily.

Inside, it's quite the same: opposite forces are pulling and tugging. His legs are tingling with the need to run away to a special place, but he's paralyzed by Pamela's presence, and the guilt is adding weight on all those opposing sensations.

"Did you come just to pick me up?" The question manages to rise through the chaos happening inside his chest, as his main preoccupation is to find a way to get away, and it only makes his ribcage shrivel more. "Because... I don't know if I told you but... I'm meeting Darrell for a drink."

He realizes he's using this excuse a lot lately, but luckily it's plausible with his best friend's party-goer antics, and despite the guilt and the fear of risking all creeping up his throat, he has chosen his side without thinking.

However, Pamela is still pulling on his hand, trying to make him advance in her direction.

"No, I also came to see Mae." She heaves out a sigh in front of his wide eyes. "The switchboard operator. I saw on social media that she creates unique masks, and they're getting pretty popular. So I want to buy one for my masquerade party."

"Ah, okay," he almost exclaims, as this sounds more like Pamela, with her large smile and the assurance that she will get anything she will ask the woman, and something that doesn't resemble him occurs: all the guilt vanishes.

"Then I'll let you talk with her." His feet are already moving toward the main door again, no more weight holding him back, except Pamela's hand still gripping his.

"I don't know where her office is. You can show me?"

A heavy sigh is climbing up from his chest, followed closely by a protest, but both don't make out farther than his throat as she adds,

"Darrell can wait. He's always late!"

Darrell is, but someone else is never...

He swallows his arguments that could risk too much, and instead, he turns back to quickly head toward the elevator, pulling Pamela with him with too much eagerness for a fashion matter he doesn't care about.

As soon as they are in the elevator, he discreetly risks a glance at his phone to notice his head start has melted away as well as the phone battery, and let's not talk about the melody in his head.

Now, he only hears the seconds ticking in his head as the floor numbers on the screen are moving up slowly, and he tilts his head back to let his thoughts fly to a free place, and hopefully a near future, while the plain gray ceiling locking him here is the only thing he sees.

***

Green, blue, white, and red, there are so many beautiful colors. The azure sky and the cottony clouds are appearing through the abundant green leaves and the few dabs of blooming flowers. They are all dancing lightly in the soft breeze, echoing a relaxing melody. 

But Anastasia isn't calm. She is jumping upon the softest murmur of leaves, lowering her head to glance frantically around, and even if the scenery around is colorful and peaceful, such a contrast with the gray buildings of the city wrapped in a thick smog she has left less than an hour ago, she can't enjoy it. 

She is not in their safe place yet. She can glimpse it just a little away, the tip of the wooden roof in the majestic sequoia, and her chest is already expanding, trying to reach for this free and easy peacefulness, but the muscles of her back are still tense and all her nerves are on edge. 

It's like her insides are needing to break free out of her stiff muscles, and when she looks down at her phone in her hand, irritation is adding and sparking on the opposing forces exerting in her body.

'Sorry, I had a setback, I'll be a little late. Wait for me please.'

21 minutes late already, and Nathaniel still isn't there. 

She exhales a loud sigh and lifts her head to the sky. She has nothing else to do than get lost in the contrasting colors and breathe deeply. Let it be...

Yet before she can take in another breath, something freezes every part of her body, including her lungs, and this time, it isn't the whisper of leaves, nor the peaceful melody of birds chirping. It's the sound of voices and steps, and they echo as discordantly as an alarm in the quiet surroundings for her.

She doesn't even know how her brain is still reacting in her paralyzed state, but surely thanks to her survival instincts, she manages to move her stiff muscles enough to lean against the closest tree and hide behind the shadows.

Hunched and half-crouched, the position is really uncomfortable, though she is too crippled to feel anything, and the real torture is happening as her mind wanders to the darkest places.

The louder the ruffling is resounding, the faster her thoughts are going, and all combined, it becomes a deafening whirlwind sweeping her whole. 

The voices are rather quiet though, and she has to focus attentively to hear them through the cacophony of her mind. She recognizes a woman and a man, but their words are twisted by the wind and mostly, by her spiraling thoughts, ending in 'forbidden', 'decree', 'outlaws', 'convicted', and more.

So as soon they sound quieter and supposedly farther – the people, not the dreading possibilities in her head – she risks a glance, unable to bear another resounding thought through her skull.

There are two silhouettes, hand in hand, probably a couple taking a walk around. Their faces are away from her view; therefore, she can't make out if she knows them or not, but fortunately, it also means their eyes and attention aren't on her.

She finally breathes again, ragged and deep puffs of air, but it is still a little oxygen, and the silence is coming back, at least, around, while inside, the seconds are ticking like hours.

A few minutes later, Nate inhales a full whiff of fresh air as he gets out of his car in the quiet nature. 

Though he doesn't take the time to admire the remarkable scenery, already hustling to the big sequoia, and following the path inked in his memory, and his breath gets caught in his throat as soon as he realizes the place is empty.

Out of reflex, he grabs his phone, only to be reminded that it has no battery left – as if he hadn't been glancing at the black screen enough times in the last hour – and he averts his gaze away before the darkness can mock him with frightening memories mixing with what-ifs. His eyes are already going everywhere around, followed by his feet, and his heart.

Her name is on the tip of his lips and resonating inside him, yet he doesn't dare to say it out loud, and it finally leaves his lips in a relieved whisper when he catches sight of her petite silhouette near a tall tree.

"Anastasia..."

He rushes there, the air coming to him again; however, it gets knocked out of his chest before even reaching his lungs as she lifts up her head, and he meets her distraught gaze.

"What happened?" he asks, his tone so low that he isn't sure she can't hear him in the few feet separating them, yet the possibilities of her answer are already too loud in his mind, and the wave of dreadful images hitting him is paralyzing him on spot.

"You're late."

He's late. Three little words in her soft accent, he would have never imagined he would like their sound so much, and the relief is washing over him like a puff of warmth, bringing his cold body out of its frozen state and putting his legs into motion as fast as his words. 

"I know. I'm sorry... Pamela showed up at my work, and then there was the fog, I had to make a detour, and my phone battery just ran out." He reaches out his hand with the need to cup her gentle cheek, brush away the crease between her eyebrows, and wrap her in his arms. He doesn't know for which one he's heading, but he doesn't get to do either of them, as she leans away and glances frantically around.

"I'm sorry..." he breathes out, the few inches she's putting between them feeling like a million miles, and trying to reach out when she appears so distant is more harrowing in his body than running all those miles, especially in one muscle.

Yet what he really can't bear is the distress brewing in her eyes and the tensions she's emanating from every pore of her soft skin. She looks like a little ball of electric nerves, and as his hand is still hanging in the air, an inch away from touching her, he's even afraid it would make her burst.

"I'm here now. And it won't happen again... I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it shouldn't have happened." She shakes her head, and he can see now why she seems so faraway; she is lost deep in her thoughts, and she's taken away farther with each crack of her voice.

Although she's right in front of him, the possibility of losing her completely has never appeared so close when she adds in a faltering whisper,

"It's careless... There were people walking around. If they saw me..."

"Did they see you?! Who was it?" Her hoarseness is contagious, just like her panic, but he tries to keep it inside his chest to not add the final straw on her stiff shoulders.

"No, I don't think so... I don't know, and I didn't see their faces..." Her words may be unsure, but seeing her frown here, in front of him, is already an indisputable proof, and he lets some tension get out through a sigh.

"Then it's okay, and you were doing nothing wrong anyway."

Yet it isn't enough for her lawyer mind, and she only becomes tenser.

"No, but that can be suspect, and I'm lying to everyone. My parents think I'm with Fergus, and Fergus thinks I'm with my parents..."

The guilt hits him like a punch in his stomach, and it's harsher than when he, himself, has to spit lies out of his mouth. It's the reflection of all the clouds haunting him inside, but watching Anastasia struggling with them, the impact is so much deeper.

All his protective instincts are on alert, yearning to pull her in his arms and shelter her away from all those pains. Yet she doesn't even leave him time to find the right words, nor his breath, as she continues her breathless rambling.

"When I'm waiting here, when I'm coming here, anyone can see. I've already stayed a little away from the treehouse to look less suspicious, but it's still careless." 

Her arguments keep flying out of her mouth in no particular order; they seem to just spring after having simmered for too long while she has been waiting alone, and it's scalding him inside as he pictures her, scared and alone, each second he should have been there.

"I thought you've said it was a safe place!"

"It is. It's a private property, and no one knows –"

"Yet there were people,"  she cuts him off, starting to pace around. "What if there are more people walking there? What if they see our cars? Or me waiting?"

Here, he recognizes the tornado Anastasia blowing everything away on her way. However, it's the first time that it's directed toward him, and it's knocking the wind out of him.

"I'm sorry... I won't be late again."

"That, you can't know, and it's not the first time you're late." She turns to him for a split second, and as her voice is calmer, he takes the opportunity to grab her hand.

"We can find a way, organize better." No solution is coming to his clouded brain at the moment, but he dives his gaze into her eyes, where it's clear she's just overwhelmed with the panic she has felt minutes ago. "Let's go inside. We'll be better, and we can talk."

She stops all her movements. There are so much kindness and sincerity in his dark eyes that it halts her in her course, and the promises of their safe bubble and his warm embrace are calling her like an oasis in the desert. She can feel that same urgency, thirst, need in every cell of her being, and for an instant, she already sees herself in her own haven. 

But a notification chiming sound from her phone makes it vanish, and she is left with her mouth dry an inch away from his lips.

Her heart restarts faster, and she spins on her heels, inhaling a shaky breath.

They have been so close to kiss, here, out in the open, where there have been people walking around not even half an hour before. It's like she has been in a trance. Every time she stares in those hypnotizing tenebrous eyes, her reason turns off; her brain turns off.

"I have to go."

"No! Ana, stay." He takes her hand, turning her to him again, and the light touch is warming her skin, the opposite way her thoughts are freezing her. 

She sighs, the air coming out as a thin, shaky trickle as the pressure is pulling her in every direction. "I've already told you I couldn't stay long. I have to go help Fergus with the pruning... and with everything, it's too late now."

"Just five minutes." He can't let her go, not with so much tempest in her soft eyes.

"No." She shakes her head, avoiding carefully his pleading eyes. "I have to go."

He feels her slip through his fingers, figuratively and literally, as she withdraws her small hand from his touch, but he squeezes her fingers just before they slip away. "See you tomorrow?"

His whole body is yearning to hold her, kiss her, though he's afraid it would only pull her more away. So he settles for one last brush of his thumb on the tip of her fingers as she doesn't reply, just nodding faintly with an 'mhm', and he watches the tornado Anastasia walking out and leaving him behind, devastated inside.

"I will find a way."

His assured voice stops her feet and her heart for a second, and she doesn't dare to look back, or she knows she will run back in his arms. His words echo like a promise in the strained silence, and deep inside, she is sure he will keep it. Yet this issue is just the tip of the iceberg, and she fears they will sink with it if they continue drifting that way.

Trouble in paradise... But they're getting closer and closer to 'hell'. What do you think? Do you think Nate will find a way, or will the opposing forces be too much for Natesia?

Let me know in the comments your thoughts and suppositions 😉

And don't forget to vote ⭐ if you like the story so far!

I keep repeating myself, but I will never thank you enough, and I love you, my little rays of sunshine ❤😘