[M] Crash Landing -- Revamped { Prae & Hannelorian }

[prærieulv]

"That doesn't sound dreadful at all...in fact, it sounds quite lovely." Lennox could only speak the words in a whisper, his breath catching at the soft fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his briefs. He was a bit surprised he could focus on anything other than those delicate digits, sneaking tantalizingly close to a particularly sensitive area. "I would need your help with the suits though. I haven't dressed formal in years." While he couldn't remember the last time he owned a suit, he could easily imagine Miranda dressed for a charity dinner, an elegant dress hugging her curves and effortlessly drawing the attention of other diners. He could also imagine being the one to remove the dress and getting to watch it cascade down her body until it pooled by her feet.

Slowly, and with a lot of reluctance, Lennox withdrew a hand from its position on her lower back in order to carefully grasp the wrist of her venturing hand. "You don't...have to do that. I still owe you dinner first, remember?" It took everything in him to gently pull her hand away, guiding it up to the nape of his neck instead. While it wasn't a firm no, and while he had no intention of stopping her if it was truly something she also desired, he couldn't let her think it was a requirement. His fondness for her extended beyond the natural desire to satisfy a basic human need. Even if he wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel her soft fingers touch him in the most indecent ways.

He cleared his throat then, a hint of warmth raising to his cheeks as he released her wrist and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "As for being my girlfriend..." He trailed off for a moment, letting his fingers drag lightly down the side of her neck, then across one of her collarbones. "It entails small dinners, for just the two of us. Something to balance the charity dinners and balls." A soft chuckle escaped him, and a smile had settled onto his lips. "It means not being afraid to get dirty, and sometimes smelling like a hog." The irony of it all, beyond being so attracted to a near stranger, was how opposite his life was from hers.

"We would go to Scotland. I would show you where I grew up." Lennox ran his fingers back along her collarbone slowly, and up the soft skin on the side of her throat. "And anywhere else in the world that you want to go to." His gaze never once left hers as he spoke, entranced by the brightness of her warm brown eyes. Jeffrey and Peter were both forgotten. The island was forgotten. The world could fall around them, and Lennox wouldn't even bat an eye. The dull pain in his body had even been forgotten, replaced by an ache that was a bit more familiar to him.

As his hand made it back up to Miranda's jaw, his thumb on one side and his index finger on the other, Lennox used the leverage to turn her head ever so slightly. This gave him the freedom to lean closer, placing his lips closer to her ear, just the way she had done to him not long ago. "And it means making toe curling, name screamingly good love." He repeated her words from before, his voice husky, low and a little bit strained. His free hand had started to roam as well, caressing her outer thigh until he could cup the back of her knee, and encourage her leg to wrap around his waist. All of his movements were cautious, careful of the discolored bruises that littered her battered body.

[Hannelorian]

"The thing about charity dinners..." Miranda began softly, as her legs floated through the water to wrap around Lennox's waist. The way she moved, it was so natural. It was like this was something they always had done. Like this was a kind of routine, something shared just between the two of them. As though they had gone on many a beach vacation together. "They are dangerous places." Miranda nodded affirmatively. "Every man in the room wants to kill you. Every glance is like daggers intended for your heart." Miranda poked a finger into his warm flesh. "All because you get to walk in with me, and I will be hanging off of your arm, doting and tender. Just as every woman wants to be me." The high society set was not known for their genuine charm, but rather their cunning and acid dipped words.

"I never do anything that I don't want to do." Miranda was many things, selfish, arrogant, talented, in possession of one hell of a cruel streak when she felt it was needed, but above all was her determination and iron will. For a few moments she contemplated the words he spoke to her. He was kind, considerate of her feelings. He seemed intent to understand her. It was refreshing. When was the last time someone was interested in Miranda? For the person, not the figure. The way his hands felt against her skin, he so gingerly guided his fingertips along the subtle curves of her flesh.

What Lennox offered, seriously or not, was an alternate version of her life. One in which her lifestyle was not the only one that mattered. Something of a blend. The coming together of two people to create something new. "I like small dinners." Miranda smiled softly. "It's more intimate that way. You can really get to know someone." Miranda dreaded a dinner with Sebastian alone. There was nothing of note, nothing real about their conversations. Empty platitudes, pointless gossip about people that Miranda didn't really care about. "I boil a mean pot of water." Miranda was in all truth, a horrible cook. That was never a skill she needed to have. One probably didn't want to have Miranda offering to cook an intimate evening meal.

"Miranda Darrow, down and dirty? Now that, no one would believe. But between you and me..." Miranda's voice lowered into a whisper as she leaned in, her turn once more to whisper into his ear. The warmth of her breath grazing his skin, along with the feeling of her lips teasing against his ear. "I don't mind a bit of hard work." The real Miranda didn't mind getting her hands dirty, she didn't mind a bit of effort, of sweat. "And as for Scotland... well, I'd get to meet this Edith of yours." Another smirk, Miranda pulled her face back just a bit, looking into his eyes, her arms moving to wrap around him, entrench herself in him.

If they had passed each other anywhere else in the world, Miranda wondered if she would notice him. It would have been nice to think the answer would have been yes, but would it have been? No, Miranda moved through the world with blinders on, from one moment to the next, seldom stopping to simply look around. But now that fate had dealt them this hand, he was all that captured her attention. "I know... we should be helping, looking... but isn't a bath just as important?" Miranda was looking for excuses, for reasons to stay in the water. To stay right here with Lennox and pretending that this was where they were meant to be. But who was to say it wasn't?

"I'm going to kiss you now. And... it probably doesn't feel right, being this... incredibly selfish. But... before we go to the others..." Miranda stopped speaking as simply allowed herself to lean in until her lips met his. They were soft and warm, like so much of the rest of him. He was warmth, he was security, he was safety for Miranda. And so she kissed him with every ounce of passion she could muster, and for a few moments when her tongue met his and the two acquainted themselves with one another every last thought save for this faded from memory. Finally, when the moment ended she spoke again. "They'll be time for making love later, hmm?" She kissed his lips gently again and rested her head on his shoulder, her arms just holding on to him. Her body screaming to never be let go.

"Let's just stay for a few moments longer. Just a few moments. And then we search the beach... put on those clean clothes I packed. Hope the boys haven't gotten themselves eaten... Even Jeff." Miranda rolled her eyes and laughed, genuinely laughed and the pain of her protesting and broken ribs was absolutely worth it.

[prærieulv]

The charity dinner was described in just the way that Lennox had predicted. Envious men would be lined up in hopes of receiving even just a small ounce of Miranda’s attention. Despite his recent jealous episodes, Lennox wasn’t particularly bothered by the thought. How could he expect anything less? The woman was clearly full of talent, but in addition to what her hands could do, she was beyond stunning. Even after a plane crash. "Men can ogle at you, as long as I'm the one that gets to take you to bed after and remind you why you're mine." His hands had started to move again, both of them lazily caressing her legs as he held her close to him.

"And I'll cook for you." Lennox was quick to offer assurance, a grin now plastered across his lips. "Pasta, so you can handle the water part." The thought made him chuckle. It wasn't much of a surprise to learn that she wasn't a cook. From the bits and pieces of her life that had been shared, Lennox could tell she didn't have much time for things that didn't revolve around her career. If this --whatever this was-- didn't extend into their lives outside of the plane crash, he could at least hope she would keep him in her life long enough for him to give her a few new experiences. And vice versa. While her life sounded overwhelming, packed with strangers and family members that held her to a certain unreasonable expectation, Lennox wanted to be a part of that, if that's what it took to be a part of her.

As they floated around in the unusually warm water, gooseflesh breaking out across Lennox's skin from Miranda's soft breath against his ear, the Scot could hardly convince himself that there was anything more important for them to do. Miranda seemed to be thinking the same, and he could only hum a noise of agreement. "A bath is important. So is resting our achy limbs...the other stuff can wait." Lennox was a fairly selfless man, outside of a plane crash, but it felt nice to put himself and Miranda before anything else for the moment. This was the first time he had felt some relief from the pounding in his temples, and he would do whatever he could to extend that time as long as he could.

And then her lips were on his, melding them together. It was a kiss unlike any that he had experienced before, and his desire for the woman blossomed into something akin to an aching need. The timing wasn't right, he knew that, but now that he'd gotten a small taste, he couldn't help but want more. Even when the moment ended, and he was left with slightly dampened lips, he couldn't shake the desire to connect them in ways that were much more intimate. "How much later?" It was a jest, and Lennox followed up the words with a breathless chuckle. "Jeff might be convinced we're coupled if he caught us making love on the shoreline." Her laugh had been music to his ears, and he felt himself begin to laugh along with her. He didn't truly want such an intimate moment to be shared with other prying eyes, but imagining Jeff's reaction to such a sight was amusing to the Scot.

Lennox held her close for a few more long moments, relishing in the warmth of her body fitted almost perfectly against his own. He did eventually loosen his grip, just enough for him to be able to duck his head under the water without taking her with him. The salty ocean stung the gash across his left temple, bringing the pain back to his head, but it also did wonders for removing some of the blood and soot from his ginger hair. He broke the surface shortly after he went under, raising a hand to wipe the water out of his eyes. "I'm not exactly ready to get out yet...but I suppose we should?" It was more of a question than a suggestion. Lennox's body had finally recovered from its worked-up state, and he preferred to get out of the water before that had a chance to change.

[Hannelorian]

Reality was creeping back in and Miranda let out a deep exhale as her arms released from Lennox and she allowed her torso to fall backward, her back arching, her long brown locks hitting the water, the soot and debris slowly flowing out into the water around her. Fingertips gently running through them to encourage the remaining bits to come loose. Little shocks, pangs of pain shooting through her as she stretched, her legs slowly coming away from Lennox allowing her to float for just a moment or two.

The sun was still high in the sky, blazing down on the pair of them. The air was warm, bordering on hot, there was little to no wind. It was something bewildering, and as the pain returned to Miranda's body, so did her thoughts on the surroundings. "I suppose we should." Miranda finally answered Lennox's question, having procrastinated such. "I wish we could just stay here." Miranda's voice was soft and lamenting.

Letting her feet fall through the water to take root in the sand and slowly but surely she dragged herself toward the shore. "Come on darling. Don't leave a little hen to the wolves now." Miranda called back, teasing him as she felt the sun beat down on her skin all exposed to the elements as she approached the backpack that was nestled in the sand beside her dress which was now neatly folded. Leaning down she took the bag into her hands and unzipped it, her eyes glancing at the edge of the green, seemingly quite the dense jungle. Retrieving a handful of things, Miranda turned her attention back to Lennox, as though she could have lost him to the sea.

Without much of a second thought, and a modest turn away from Lennox once more, she managed to quickly unclasp her bra, and discard her underwear to the sand, slipping on the fresh pair of both items, in her signature black with a bit of lace. Highly impractical, but she hadn't planned for the beach. It also marked the end of the spare garments she had packed in her carry on. Black tank top and running shorts that fit snuggly, hugging the curves they clung to. "Not running today..." Miranda whispered to herself.

There was an eerie silence in the air. "Not even the sound of sea birds." Miranda said somewhat louder to be heard by an approaching Lennox. "Nor anything from beyond the tree line. Like we're in some kind of a vacuum. Or a void." Looking down the beach and back toward the plane there was a profound sadness that came with it. "Take a walk with me? See what we can see?" Miranda asked with a soft smile painted across her face.

[prærieulv]

Lennox smiled to himself as he watched Miranda approach the shore, enjoying the view while he had a few innocent moments to do so. He then allowed himself one last dip under the water, clearing away the final bits of debris and dried blood from his skin. Once he was satisfied with his rinse off, he let his feet sink into the mushy sand and finally began to follow after Miranda. He spared a glance in the direction of the unusual jungle, raising a hand to block the sun that wasn't doing much to sooth the throbbing between his temples. A part of him had expected to see Jeffrey and Peter, coming back after their venture into the unknown, perhaps carrying a handful of different fruits. It must've been wishful thinking though, as there was no movement that he was able to see. Maybe he and Miranda hadn't spent as long in the water as he thought.

As his feet met the warmer, dry sand, Lennox focused his attention back towards Miranda just in time to watch the last of her undergarments fall away from her body. His footsteps faltered slightly, but this time, he unabashedly drank in the sight before him. The kiss they shared may not have been permission for him to stare at her so freely, and it may have been rude for him to do so, but surely Miranda wouldn't be afraid to let him know if such an act was deemed inappropriate.

"Maybe the wildlife doesn't come out during the day?" Lennox offered a suggestion as he finally approached the woman, scooping the backpack up off the sand so he could rifle around for his own clothing. "There's a lot of things that don't make much sense about this place. Maybe the crash scared off some of the animals?" He wasn't too fond of thinking about why the island might be deserted, and trying to make sense of things was difficult when he spoke aloud. Every explanation he could come up with for why this place was the way it was, sounded like something out of a movie or a fairytale.

The Scot freed his clothes from the confines of the backpack, then mimicked Miranda's earlier actions by turning his back to her. "Do you want to walk back towards the plane, or should we go farther away to see if we come across anything new?" Slipping out of his briefs, Lennox was quick to change into a new pair along with a fresh set of jeans. He turned back to Miranda once he secured the button, offering a hint of a smile. "Or we could head up towards the creepy jungle, see if we can find the other two." That was closer to the bottom of the list of things Lennox wanted to do, but it felt as though the group had been apart for quite some time.

Once he tugged on his plain, white t-shirt, he reached over to slip his hand into one of Miranda's. "Perhaps it's a manmade island...I've never heard of such a thing before, but--" Lennox was interrupted, or he cut himself off as a broken, unnatural sound echoed out somewhere closer to the jungle. At first the Scot thought it might have been his imagination adding noises to fill the silence that the two of them had just been talking about. Except, to his surprise and immediate dread, the sound was not a figment of his imagination. It belonged to a figure, which Lennox could barely see from this distance.

What Lennox could decipher now that he spotted the owner of the noise, was that it had been a bloodcurdling scream. He couldn't quite make out the state of the body, only that it was stumbling through the sand only a few feet in front of the dense foliage. Something about the way it moved caused the Scot's blood to run cold. "We need to get to the plane." He started to move before he finished his sentence, snatching the backpack off the sand before he began to usher Miranda back towards the plane.

[Hannelorian]

Was it so bad that Miranda enjoyed the feeling of Lennox's eyes on her as she changed? It was enough to bring that subtle smile to her face, the one that was knowing. It was enough to prompt Miranda to return the favor as she glanced in his direction before the view would change and he would don clean clothes, something that felt like a little bit of luxury given their current situation. Further, Miranda realized as Lennox spoke that he too was trying to rationalize their situation, explain away all of the little oddities that seemed to keep popping up.

Maybe the creatures didn't emerge during the day. The wildlife as he had called it. Maybe the island was manmade. It wasn't the strangest idea... after all hadn't they made entire artificial islands in Dubai? Those ones shaped like palm trees. Or maybe the crash had simply been a centralized event so big that it disturbed the natural order enough to break the normal cycles that the fauna had been used to. It seemed... plausible. Though none of it felt likely. It felt... wrong. Odd? Something like that.

However the quiet cogs turning over and over in Miranda's mind was interrupted by the sound of a scream. The kind that struck you and produced a chill through your very bones. Something indeed had gone very, very wrong. Then there was the sight of a broken body ambling from the tree line down toward the shore. Miranda couldn't make out who it was, though reason would suggest it was either Peter or Jeffrey. In any case the state of the body that emerged was concerning enough but it did beg the question... where was the other one? Or was it neither? Was it some unknown figure from somewhere else on the island that had discovered them?

Or perhaps even more unlikely it was another survivor from the pieces of the plane that were missing from their crash site. Someone who was broken and badly injured and perhaps missed Peter and Jeffrey. But the possibility that it was dangerous, a bad omen seemed to weigh heavily on Miranda's mind and then suddenly she was being ushered across the sand toward their wreckage. Miranda didn't question it, she simply allowed herself to be whisked away, her legs finally breaking into a run, at least as best she could with Lennox along side her.

"We can send help later." Miranda had considered now, that it truly could have been one of them, but taking the chance seemed foolish. "Right? If it's Peter or Jeff?" Miranda was feeling short of breath her lungs seemed on fire and her ribs sore and aching as she pushed her body harder to make it back to the aircraft corpse.