🌱 people come and go; once they have led you to your destination, it's time for them to go. no amount of bargaining will bring them back, and that's just how it is. sabi nga sa isang socmed post: when a person is done teaching you a valuable lesson, life won't let you see them again even if they're just around the corner.
🌱 learn to appreciate the harvest while patiently waiting for the next season. syempre sa isang harvest, hindi lahat maganda ang bunga; still, reflect on it and take the lesson that resonates with you and apply it on the next season. and always keep in mind that it's necessary to celebrate the little things, the huge wins, and the unexpected decisions that came to fruition. appreciate what you've went through and what made you better this season.
🌱 in life, you have to learn that it's nice to be the backseat baby sometimes. you can't control every thing around you, and that's okay. i learned to let my days unfold how it wanted to, and i just silently observed and reflected on the things it wanted to teach me.
🌱 as long as the body has the capacity to travel, let it roam the world. i'll only be twenty-six once, might as well put "discover the world" in my bucket list. appreciate the art of living, go on roadtrips, and help people along the way. feed your body and soul through various experiences.
🌱 never shame yourself for loving. it's in our nature to want, need, and love. so, do so as long as your heart desires, and as long as that love doesn't hurt anybody including you. never shame for loving yourself as well. besides, how can the love that's coming from you bear fruit, if you yourself is not loved by you? (sheesh, i'm coming for you, Dr. Seuss charot)
these are just the reflections that stuck with me through my twenty-sixth season. take what you need, and leave some for everybody.
it was not my role to fix; after all, i was only twenty-six.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Spike couldn’t believe it as he reached the entrance. He had thought they’d lost the entire Depot. Everything had gone to hell .
Yet, not everything in the station was lost. Some were injured and others were grieving, but they still had their lives.
Another day to survive.
The question, could they fully recover? It gnawed at him but Spike pressed on, directing his men to stick to the protocols: keep the Virals out, tend to the fallen, and check the defenses for any holes.
Every second counted—noon was already approaching.
Spike passed the station and moved into the Loading Bay, sifting through the debris. He found one of the lead engineers, leading a few rookies to douse the last of the flames.
“Demir!” he called. “That explosion-”
“It’s alright,” Demir assured him as he settled his crossbow aside and rubbed his bruised shoulder from the recoils. “That lady and her friend held the line long enough for us to do a patch job.”
“Jack?”
“That her name? They couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“Any injuries?”
“Few scratches. Lost three during that breach… And…”
Demir’s glance shifted towards the one thing Spike couldn’t ignore even if he tried.
The inferno had died down. But the twisted, scorched remains of a train were a painful sight… All that hard work, gone in an instant.
It would have been D-Day in two days… All they had been missing was getting ready to tear down the Quarantine wall.
Demir sighed, exhausted. “We’re not getting out of Harran, Spike.”
Spike clenched a fist, fighting off the creeping resignation. That had been the entire goal—getting everyone he managed to save out of Harran. Those from the Slums, and the Border.
They were almost ready…
But Spike steeled himself. If he were to break like he nearly did on top of the rooftop, then he might as well call it quits and leave.
“We’ll continue this at the station,” Spike said firmly. “…Mark my words, I’ll get everyone out.”
“Yeah… Sure.” Demir was rooted in his spot. But he wasn’t one to mourn over a train—Tunc had been lamenting over the burning Hilzi for the last five minutes. So eventually, he headed to the station.
Spike hurried off, searching for the woman in red and her hooded companion.
A minute later, he skidded to a stop once he spotted them by the container.
“Jack.”
Spike could have sworn he saw a dark look on her face. But it vanished as she turned gracefully, with her charismatic smile.
“How’s everything holding up?”
“Good. Thanks to you both.” Spike said, exhaling a mix of relief and exhaustion. “...That offer still on the table?”
“Always,” she replied. Her quiet friend didn’t object, either.
Crane watched the man waver. No. More like he couldn’t be more happy to hear her answer. Spike needed all the help they could get.
“Follow me.” And Spike hustled down the tracks, leading them to the Border station.
What was once a place for travelers to relax and wait for departures had been repurposed into a base of operation for the engineers
Among the blue-uniformed workers with soot, sweat, and blood, a few stood out—former station and train staff. While they lacked the experience to understand trains, that didn’t mean they couldn’t help however they could.
The air was heavy, however. Their numbers had thinned in just an hour, with some shaken and some holding themselves together. Two medics in waterproof jackets worked quickly, patching up the injured. Few dared ask what had gone wrong.
Losing a Safe Zone was one thing. Trying to recover it was another.
Spike led the Runners to the heart of the station: the dispatch room, where Demir had arrived moments earlier and wasn’t alone.
Two figures sat near the radio: a stewardess and a radio operator with his hand on the gooseneck microphone, both frazzled. In a corner, a man sat sniffling, his swollen eyes and red nose that Crane wondered if he had lost something precious during the breach.
“Demir,” Spike broke the silence, “are there any other trains we can use?”
“You’re serious?”
Before Demir could start, the operator exploded from his seat. The chair slammed against the wall with a thud .
“You want to try this again?!” Andrej snapped, voice thick with frustration. “Six weeks! Six weeks of just…waiting.”
Marisol, the stewardess, with six years of service, was well-known for her patience under pressure. She had managed her team, stayed organized, and calmed displaced passengers when crises arose. But nothing in her training could have prepared her for the past several months.
“Andrej-” she tried to calm him down.
“We’ve been living next to a Quarantine Wall, for fuck’s sake!” Andrej gestured wildly, unable to contain his anger. How absurd and terrifying the very idea was for six weeks . “Sinan warned us this could happen and look at where he is! Dead! Along with half of the crew!”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Everyone in the room had seen the bodies and no one argued back.
To Andrej and Marisol, watching death on a screen had been gnawing with fear and dread. For Demir and Tunc, they couldn’t save as many people as they had wished, despite all the best defenses and traps Spike’s team had prepared.
The two newcomers were the quietest. Crane glanced at Jack, expecting her to intervene with her magic but she stayed quiet, watching.
Sometimes, some explosions were for the better. Let the fire out and the quarrels end instead of turning them into wildfire. The steam had already left a boiling kettle before they entered the dispatch room—Jack stepping in now would make things worse.
The problem was Spike.
Never had Crane seen him…falter. Not once. But he could see the mask slip a little. Spike wrestled with every ounce of control he had in him, gaze averted.
For the first time, Spike now looked both emotionless…and emotional.
“We’ve put everything into this harebrained plan when we should be looking for alternatives. Any alternative,” Andrej barked.
“If you got ideas, why don’t you share them, you prick,” the red-nosed man mocked.
“Tunc,” Demir warned but the tension hung thick.
The operator’s anger still fumed but just like Tunc in his corner, he was too mentally drained to throw a punch back.
But Andrej had his eyes burned into Spike.
“Maybe I will,” he muttered. “I’m not wasting another minute in this God-forsaken place.”
His cold glance swept the room, expecting anyone to follow. Abandon the train idea. No one moved—not even Marisol.
Seeing that he was alone in this futile protest , Andrej’s scowl deepened. He shot one last look at the two Runners—faces he didn’t know but faces he couldn’t trust.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to leave the suffocating room.
“We’re back to square one. Whether you like it or not.”
Bam!
The door shut behind them.
Andrej’s outburst left its sting in the room. Square one , the worst kind of news to hear in their whole situation.
The worst thing to be in after putting so much effort into surviving.
And for what…?
The first to break the heavy silence was the stewardess. Unintentionally, with a raspy cough. Shaking her head at how poorly things had gone, Marisol stepped forward, her professional poise intact out of habit.
“I’m sorry,” Marisol apologized on Andrej’s behalf“...He didn’t mean it-”
“Don’t waste your breath, Marisol. He’ll come to his senses,” Tunc grumbled, fed up in his chair.
Demir, however, heaved a deep sigh and focused on the conversation instead. “...Whatever train we have left isn’t gonna cut it. And the ones that already left the Loading Bay… They’re out there. Somewhere.”
“But they’re dangerous.”
Jack’s voice cracked through the tension in the air. Her rigid demeanor was gone; hands in pockets, wide smile, and taking a casual posture about herself.
“Four months is plenty of time to turn them into Viral breeding grounds,” she added.
Tunc frowned. “Sorry, who are you?”
Spike cleared his throat. “Jack Brecken,” he introduced, first gesturing to her before motioning to the hooded man next to her. “And…”
Crane flinched, caught off guard by the introduction.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Sin: I wish I would never have to deal with you again! I wish Digby could forget about you! That it didn’t matter if you were gone!
Fox: Ah…great talk?
Sin: You could be such an annoying b*tch sometimes!
Fox: Do you feel better getting that off your chest?
Sin: *Rolls eyes*
Fox: Because if he doesn’t know I’m here then don’t tell him!
Sin: He’ll never stop trying to find you! He loves you, don’t you get that? If he finds out I was keeping him from you….doesn’t matter, how do I know you’ll keep your mouth shut?
Fox: Because I don’t love him…because I want nothing to do with him! Because I’m happy where I am, living with these people…not stealing or vandalizing or hurting other people. I wasn’t happy anymore, It was fun f*cking up as a kid, but I didn’t have freedom!
Sin: Why did you want freedom so bad? Weren’t you given anything you wanted?
Fox: No…you wouldn’t understand, not having a choice…not being able to do what makes you feel alive just because it wouldn’t make someone else happy! It’s sick Sin, you have to know that?! Don’t you want more?
Part V – “But we’re still sleeping like we’re lovers”
Twenty-six
I stood there, transfixed by the overwhelming feeling of her in my arms, unbelievingly real against the paleness of my tired memories. I didn’t know what had happened to her – clearly something had happened – but was only glad I had found her, right in the moment when my arms seemed to be so needed to hold her.
“Will ye tell me?” I murmured against her hair – fragrant like a freshly squeezed lemon, like a garden after pouring rain -, my hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. “What happened?”
“I will.” She tilted her chin, allowing our eyes to meet – hers were dry but glassy, as if her body was wrecked with fever. “I want to tell you.”
“Good.” I attempted a calming smile, but felt the muscles of my face stiff from concern. “Do ye want to sit down?”
“We can’t talk here.” Claire told me, finally stepping back, away from the comfort of my body – I felt the loss of her warmth as acutely as I would miss a limb. Phantom pain, permanent and excruciating, constructed by the mind to deal with unbearable loss. “This is Geillis place – she is a close friend – and she’ll be arriving shortly from work. I thought she had forgotten her keys when you knocked.”
“Ye can come to my house.” I offered, almost biting my tongue in eagerness. The image of Claire in my home - the tips of her fingers brushing the book spines in the shelf, her lips drinking from one of my glasses - a kiss shared through the marks we’d both leave there – made my heart swell to the point of bursting. “I mean, we can have a conversation there without being disturbed or interrupted.” I babbled, struggling to explain myself over a bout of flushing cheeks.
“Alright.” She nodded in agreement – trusting me implicitly. Naturally. “Let me just feed Adso and grab my coat.” The feline meowed in agreement and rubbed against Claire’s legs, sleek and charming, as if he had been waiting to be acknowledged.
We made our way through the pleasant streets of Edinburgh, headed towards my house, located just a few blocks away. We traded some words, but were mostly immersed in our thoughts – preparing what we would say and do, when we finally could expose ourselves in a safe haven. As we walked, we didn’t touch – not even our arms bumped into each other, in that casual way of shared movement. We were both consciously avoiding to touch, keeping a safe distance, even if acutely aware of each other.
“It isna a big house.” I apologized in a jumbled way as we entered my apartment, collecting unmatched socks and forgotten papers along the way.
“I love it!” Claire smiled in a reassuring way, admiring the big flat screen and black speakers. Her butterscotch eyes covered my pictures and books, the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, the magazines and pamphlets I had sorted inside a little basket next to the bookcase. “I can tell you live here – it’s warm and alive. It’s a real home.”
I grinned in content – almost purring in satisfaction -, as she took off her coat. She wandered around, touching objects with a respectful hand and clicking her tongue in appreciation of my book collection. Eventually she talked again, her back turned to me.
“Where is your bedroom?” She asked in a rough voice, unhinged – and then, predicting my puzzlement, she added in a low and hesitant tone, as if talking to herself. “I haven’t been sleeping much – I didn’t want to close my eyes and let my mind roam freely. I can barely stand on my feet, to be honest. Besides,” Claire turned and glanced at me, fumbling again with her sleeves. “I think it would be easier to talk if we touched.”
“Aye.” I breathed deeply, walking towards my room. “Whatever ye need.”
I watched as she laid down on my bed, above the plaid that meant home to me – taking off her boots and socks in the process. Her movements were slow and calculated, as if she wished to cause minimal impact with her presence, so that I would carry on with my life after her departure. Claire rolled to her side, curled like an unborn child, safe and peaceful in the womb.
I came around the bed and managed to lay down – silent and precise as a thief in the night -, leaving an empty space between us, as I faced her. She seemed tired beyond her years and utterly broken.
Without a word she slid her hand to the middle of the bed, where I could reach out and touch it – I did so, softly playing with her fingers until she relaxed and our hands were entwined.
“Why are ye here?” I asked, my voice husky. Her face was a duality of shadows and bursts of light, coming from the window to dance on her features. “In Scotland?”
“I had to come.” Claire adjusted her face on the pillow, caressing the nail of my thumb with her fingers, her golden wedding ring cold like a fetch between us. “I couldn’t be in Boston right now – I needed time to think. This is the one place that has been home to me.”
“Are ye still married?” I risked, watching in anguish as she winced in pain. She sighed – but the movements of my hand in hers seemed to calm her enough to go on.
“Separated.” She licked her quivering bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. “It turns out Frank wasn’t the man I thought he was. He wanted to own me.” Claire pursed her lips in anger. “And when he couldn’t own me, I wasn’t enough. Everyday became a war between us. A long and tiresome war.”
I gulped, taking in the shrapnel of her destruction. With a swift movement of my spare hand, I rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing bruises the colour of mustard and moss, screaming against her marble white skin – marks of resentful fingers, forceful enough to break vessels and spirits. A lonely tear streamed down her cheek.
“He hurt ye!” I hissed furiously between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to maim the husband who had so recklessly broke the vow to protect her – to love her. She needed my restraint and I could offer it to her – not another display of bad temper by a man she had trusted. I hesitantly touched the bruises, wishing to erase them with kisses, to heal them with the adoration I would bestow upon her.
“I hurt him back.” Claire assured me, a look of shame crossing her face – as if I could pay witness to the degradations inflicted by both during their marriage. “He didn’t want me to leave. Frank said he still loves me.”
“Does he?” I asked with gentleness, battling the urge to ask her if she still loved him.
“I don’t know.” The tear track on her face glistened like a dry river, leaving thirst in its wake. “His love didn’t hurt like this, before.”
I wanted to ask her details on her failed marriage – her unhappiness was patent and unbearable – but restrained myself. She must have spent hours replaying the film of her derailed life, echoing words meant to harm – there was no cure to be found in saying them once more. I wished only to placate her pain – to take it all into myself, if I could. I longed to be the bringer of her smiles and not of her tears.
“I called ye.” I suddenly revealed, half embarrassed. “I waited too long – ye were gone by then. Maybe if I did…things would have been different.”
“Perhaps.” Claire agreed, haltingly. “But you were right – I shouldn’t have settled for less.”
I risked to brush her hair – silky and curly, so elementally Claire that took my breath away – and she closed her eyes in enjoyment of the intimate touch.
“What will ye do?” I asked, so afraid of the answer I could die. I wished for nothing more than to have her in my bed, lying so close to me as I memorized her, for the rest of my days. And yet I knew I had no guarantee of intimacy, of another conversation, of another touch – I savoured them all as a gift, for they were precious and not promised.
“I have to go back to Boston.” Claire explained, gripping my hand with strength. “I have a life there – a nursing job, medical school, friends and - .” She stopped, her eyes wide open.
“Frank.” I swallowed hard, fighting against myself to offer her an encouraging smile. “Ye are still married to him.”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, almost sobbing. I brought her hand closer to my mouth and kissed her knuckles.
“I won’t tell ye what to do – that is for ye to decide, mo nighean donn. But I need ye to know something, Claire.” I touched her chin with tenderness, urging her to open her eyes. “Ye alone hold all my heart – even before I knew yer name, ye meant light to me. I’ll wait for ye my whole live – and gladly so, even if it means that I’ll watch ye from afar, happy and fulfilled with another man, worthy of ye.”
“Jamie, I – “ Claire started, but I kissed her hand again and brought her against my chest, where my heart kept pounding, speaking enough to silence her.
“I’d rather ye dinna make promises ye may not wish to keep afterwards, when yer heart is less sore. When – if - ye mean them, I’ll be here.” I pleaded, staring into her eyes – she held my gaze for a while and nodded back. “Rest now, mo nighean donn. Let me watch over ye as ye sleep. Let me see ye safe.”
“I’m always safe with you.” She whispered.
I cherished her and held her hand until she fell asleep – finding new reasons to love her while she dreamt. She felt safe and protected with me – and, for that moment, it was enough.
Even when night came and we were left in complete darkness, I listened to her breathing, absorbing the symphony of the lover I craved. Once in a while I closed my eyes, making sure I could remember her perfectly – opening them again to correct a small detail, to drink another drop of her, afraid I would forget. Tormented I wouldn’t.
In the wee hours of night, I fought against sleep. I felt raw and tender, heart and body aching, calling me irresistibly to slumber.
I must have surrendered at some point. I had the vague recollection of a chaste kiss against my lips – timid, yet burning.
