Page 85 of Serpent In White

“Will you come eat now?” I mutter at him when he finally puts the gun down. “It’s cold.”

“I’ll warm you up.” He grins, plopping down next to me on the log we turned into a bench, slinking his arm around my waist and pulling me closer to bite my earlobe.

“I meant the food, asshole.” I smother my smirk and shift through the chills he’s giving me.

“Ohhh, right. The food,” he hums in my ear, almost more arousing than him biting and sucking on it.

I shove him, and he laughs, digging into his food while I just watch him, because I already finished eating, while he was busyprotectingus.

The sun sets, and it’s dark all around, the only light from the crescent moon and the glowing embers of a dull fire. I’m roasting a marshmallow I probably won’t eat while Drake talks about some plants he’s been studying in the books he got from Chet. He says they can do a lot for the human body, but mainly they can be made into psychedelics, which he’s sort of fascinated by.

Drake’s been mentioning this for a while. He was always a science nerd, for as long as I’ve known him, but in the last two years, he’s been studying chemistry and botany more and more. He tries to teach me, but I’m more interested in reading fiction, or learning about history and the social sciences.

Even though we’re no longer a part of society, so to speak, we still understand how important education is. I’ve been reading up on sociology, because I think it’s very interesting how a society comes to be. But Drake is all about biology and chemistry. He talks about wanting to grow more, and we both agree that if we could build a greenhouse of some kind, it would be hugely beneficial to us in the long run. We could make our own supplies, our own medicine.

I enjoy thinking about the future, but I don’t bring it up to Drake often. He likes to focus on the moment, and I agree with that. But I also don’t think it hurts to plan, especially since we’re becoming self-sustaining and we need to be prepared for storms in winter, floods, poor crop harvests, stuff like that.

“I was thinking of going up the mountain,” he murmurs, fingers grazing up and down my thigh. “I want to go farther… See what I can see.”

“You think that’s safe?” My eyes are stuck on the flaming marshmallow as it singes into a black ball.

“We’ll never know until we try, right?” He leans into my side.

I turn my face to look at him, the glow illuminating his pale skin and sharp lines. I still remember when I first met him, how small he was. He sprouted up like crazy as a teenager, and now he’s huge, his presence even more overpowering. Those eyes, marbled in color, could be potentially startling, but I love them. They’re different, which is what Drake is. He’s one of a kind.

“Right,” I whisper, inching closer to his face. His eyes drop to my lips, fingers slinking up my thigh, closer to where I’m hardening up quick.

A twig snaps to our right, and we jump, heads springing in the sound's direction to see a man.

The same man from earlier.

“Hi. Sorry to burst in on you like this.” The man gives us a kind smile, his eyes falling, maybe to observe how close we’re sitting.

Drake’s hand leaps off my leg. Seriously, I don’t think anything has ever moved so fast. I peek at him, watching his jaw clench as he scoots away from me, eyes narrowed on our new friend.

“Who the fuck are you?” Drake grunts, and I see his left hand reaching for the shotgun at his side.

The man catches on and lifts his hands. “I mean you no harm. My name is Pete. I’m out here to hike and camp, and I saw you guys. Figured I’d introduce myself since I haven’t seen anyone else in days.”

Drake is eyeing the guy as if he’s an intruder, studying him with squinted eyes, likely trying to determine if he can be trusted.

So I decide to give the man a smile. Might as well play good cop bad cop. The dude’s right, after all. We rarely see other people around here, which is why it’s come to feel like our own little solitary woodland haven. But there are still people out there, and good ones at that.

Drake doesn’t trust anyone, and I suppose I shouldn’t either. But I’m inherently positive, and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Drake would call it stupid, or naïve.

I like to see it as hopeful.

“I’m Darian,” I introduce myself. “This is my brother, Drake.”

The man’s forehead creases for just a moment before he smiles back. “Nice to meet you bo—”

“You’re on our land,” Drake hisses, fingers still curling around his gun. “That’s why you haven’t seen anyone else around here. It’s ours.”

I glance at my brother like he’s lost his mind. Sure, we like to claim this land is ours, but technically, it’s not. We don’t have any sort of property rights over it, and we certainly can’t willfully shoot someone for trespassing.

Pete appears partially nervous, but also intrigued as he nods, palms still facing us like he’s being held at gunpoint, which he almost is by my crazy brother. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll leave if you want…”

“Don’t be silly.” I nudge Drake with my elbow until he finally takes an audible breath, and a much-needed blink. “You can hang out for a bit if you want. We’ve got marshmallows.”