Page 63 of To Catch a Firefly

“Yeah,” I call back, my relief nearly bowling me over. “We’re down here.”

“Who am I speaking to?” the person asks.

Ellis gives me a nudge and nods toward the hatch door. “Riley.”

“That’s Riley Evans?” I ask him.

He nods.

“Riley, it’s Lucky Buchanan,” I yell. “I’m with Ellis Cole.”

He’s quiet for a beat. “Lucky, I didn’t… We’ve been looking for Ellis, but I didn’t realize you were here. Hang tight, okay? We’re nearly through the rubble. We’ll have the door open shortly.”

“Thank you,” I manage to get out, my throat tight.

The sounds from above continue, and Ellis gives my hand a squeeze.

“My parents are going to kill me,” I mutter.

Ellis huffs what sounds like disagreement, but they didn’t even know I was here. No one did, apart from Danil. And, well, Ellis. I can’t imagine my mom and dad are going to be thrilled to find out I ended up in the path of a tornado. At least they weren’t worried about me this whole time. One positive, I suppose.

I allow myself a moment to take in the fact that we’ll be out of here shortly. Ellis has his eyes closed beside me, and I wonder if he’s doing the same.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” I tell him.

He opens his eyes, a question there.

“Staying calm in a crisis,” I explain.

Not that I’m surprised. Ellis has always had that sort of steady presence about him. That unwavering dependability. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s lost his cool.

“Thank you for keeping me calm, too,” I add.

He sets his head against the washing machine, eyes raking over my face. His gaze feels focused yet distant all at once, and not for the first time, I get the feeling he’s aware of something I’m not.

“What do you see?” I ask quietly. I’m not even sure if he’s going to answer me, but he’s been surprisingly open since we kissed.

“Gold,” he says, reaching up and twining a piece of my hair around his finger. His touch is gentle, voice soft. “Sands and…sun. Light. Camels.”

The last is said with a smirk, and I huff a somewhat disbelieving laugh. “Is that all?”

“Here,” he says, touching the corner of my eye, his focus absolute. “Ocean. Sky and sea. Smith Falls. Great…Blue Hole.”

I snort, and his lips curl into a smile, but his gaze never wavers. His thumb travels down, brushing over my top lip. My breath hitches.

“Sails,” he says, tracing the two arches of my lip. “Birds in flight. Palaces and…windmills.”

My pulse skitters as Ellis’s eyes travel back to my own.

“All the life in you,” he says simply. “That’s what I see.”

“El…”

I jolt as a thunk comes from above. A second later, there’s a large creak, and light floods into the cellar.

“Lucky?” Riley calls. “Ellis?”

“Shit,” I say, an overwhelming rush of relief, happiness, and lingering fear rushing through me. My eyes prickle as I scoot outfrom under the shelf. Ellis follows, and once he unfolds his large body and I help him to his feet, I step forward and look up the length of the steps. Riley Evans is standing at the top, his body silhouetted in light.

---