From the Ashes

Not being able to handle the immense amount of emotions that Roman's touch causes me, I slide my legs off of his lap to furl them beneath me in the seat as I sit up. Sage is still out cold and we get a kick out of taking a few pictures of his slumbering face, jaw agape and head leaned back. Roman seems to be holding out all right, and he tells me he only got a few hours of sleep also when I ask him.

"I would definitely drive for you if I knew how to work the manual nonsense," I tell him with a chuckle, and he gives the stick shift an affectionate pat.

"Maybe I'll teach you at camp," he laughs quietly, and I give him a horrid look.

"That has disaster written... ALL over it," I breathe with a grin. He shoots me a wink before my attention turns to the scenery. We moved out of the farm fields nestled between sloping hills just outside of town, to smaller, winding roads that run through steeper ranges of the Appalachian Mountains. We still follow Roman's mother in her small silver car, rolling across the twisting roads covered in sun-dappled patterns from the brilliant light playing through the leaves of the tall trees above us. I comment on the beautiful drive as Roman turns off onto a dirt road after his mother.

"We're almost there, now," he tells me with a smile, and I get excited to finally see the camp.

We drive a couple miles on this dirt road, and pass other campground properties with cabins and chalets and cottages built for renting. I'm pleased at the looks of them, and how each property is pretty far-spread from the others. Seeing the variety of house and landscape, my curiosity just grows as we travel toward ours. I poke Sage awake in my excitement, wondering how he could sleep through the bumpy journey on this back road, and he joins me in peering out the front window. He tells me about which family owns what property as we go by some of them, pointing out the ones they know well as seasonal regulars, just like he and Roman. He also shows me a few that house some kids that are annoying, some that have kids our age that are just dicks. Roman scoffs in agreement periodically. Finally, we pull into a gravel drive dotted with other vehicles that sit in front of a large, logwood garage. With a flourish, Sage presents their family-owned property.

Built on a sloping hill and nestled against it lie two large cabins, both made of dark logs. One sits slightly higher on the hill farther back, and small children dot the wide porch adorned with beautifully carved woodwork as railings. Adults wave from the porch of the other cabin, and dogs romp in the sloping lawn of fresh-cut grass that flows to meet the road out front. The property is lined with hedges of some sort of flowering bush on either side -Mountain Laurel, I think- and a white gate runs from hedge to hedge to separate the yard from the road. The farther-most border at the back of the property is hidden behind the crest of the small hill. It’s rustic, grand, and magnificent. I can only imagine what this kind of place costs to have, and I can see why so many people help out with ownership.

Like a pair of excited children, Roman and Sage are out in a flash to greet family as I follow behind. We end up on the porch of the first big cabin, exchanging hugs and smiles and greetings as I am introduced to family. Roman's aunts and uncles, little cousins, Sage's parents, Sage's little siblings. I try to remember as many names as possible in the short amount of time that I meet all of these new people, endlessly smiling at the jovial start to this vacation. I get a lot of compliments and gasps of delight at my wildly colored hair, and I shrug and laugh with them as I blame crazy teenage tendencies.

Once we greet and meet everyone, we start loading our belongings out of Roman's truck, and Amy's car, making a few trips but leaving the project supplies in the pickup. I follow Sage and Roman up the cobblestone path to the higher cabin, lugging my purse and a large duffel bag. The little cousins swarm around us, carrying a bag here, helping out there.

"The adults stay in the lower cabin, and us kids get the upper one," Roman tells me over his shoulder. His gait is lumbering as he bears a large bag, while a tiny girl-cousin hitches a ride by clinging to his leg and sitting on his foot. Once over the porch and through the door, I gasp as the magnificence of the interior. Wary of the little kids around us, I refrain from expressing my awe with the use of swears.

"Oh my lord, Roman!" I exclaim, setting my duffel bag down to take in the cabin.

"It's beautiful, right?" he grins, setting his bag down as he surveys the room we're in beside me. The first room is huge, with a high, two-story ceiling and a vaulted roof towering above us. Big windows filled with decoratively large-paned glass cover each end of the farther walls, where sunlight streams in to add to the grandeur. This room is as long as the whole length of the cabin, and various chairs and tables line the walls. The wood floor is level in a six foot-wide strip that runs around the perimeter of the large room on three sides, but a wide wooden set of steps a few feet in front of the door lead down to a den in the middle of the room, just a few feet lower than the strip we're standing on. The architectural effect is gorgeous. The lowered den looks snug and homey, surrounded by the raised strip, which is lined with carved wooden railings to separate those on the strip from the small drop. Thick fur rugs cover the floor of the lowered den, and loveseats and couches line the edges where they're set with their backs against the small half-wall made by the strip. A dark-stained coffee table sits in front of one of the navy blue couches, and a grand stone fireplace stands in the very center of the opposite wall. I just love the way the stone chimney climbs up the log cabin.

Two spiral staircases made from black metal are built on either end of the strip, leading up to the "second story" of this big room. It's really just a beautifully built balcony that spans the length of the opposite wall, overlooking the huge room and the den, with more of those same carved railings. I can see doors up there leading to rooms symmetrically placed on either side of a hallway that disappears right in the middle. The chimney that lies directly below the center of the wall below the second floor splits once it comes through, creating a beautiful stone border on either side of the door-less hallway.

"You look so stunned, Allie," Roman smirks at me as he waves a hand in front of my face. I swat at it as I beam in excitement.

"This is like a fairy tale," I squeak in awe. The little girl who is attached to Roman's leg peers up at me with big brown eyes as Roman tries to coax her off.

"Roman's my boyfriend," she giggles with a gap-toothed grin, peppering his leg with wet kisses as his attempts turn futile. My guffaw echoes through the high-ceilinged room.

The cousins tire of our presence quickly, and they soon leave at the promise made by an uncle to be taken down to the creek. I leap down into the lowered den after leaving my flip-flops on the mat by the door, laughing as my bare toes sink into the fur rugs.

"This place is heaven!" I screech, twirling around the space while the boys chuckle up on the strip. Dizzy, I fall to lie against the soft rug, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling while I inhale the sweet smell of wood. Just as the boys join me, I jump up to scurry up onto the strip.

"Let's see the second floor!" I leave them in the dust as I run up one of the spiral stairs to skid to the middle of the balcony, leaning to gaze down at them below me. Roman salutes and Sage waves, and I smile wide.

"What's down this hallway?" I ask, my voice bouncing off the high walls and ceiling as I turn to peer down a long hallway lined with doors. Light from a floor-length window covers the small wall at the end.

"Bedrooms and bathrooms," Roman's voice floats after me as I pad down the hall to look out the window. From up here, you can see the rocky slope dotted with trees that make up the crest of the hill and the back of the property.

Roman and Sage join me to give me a tour, showing me the few rooms and bathrooms up on this level.

"We'll be staying up here. All the kids stay in this cabin, but fortunately for us, the top floor is only for us older kids," Roman tells me. We choose our rooms, Roman and Sage taking their usual ones, leaving me to decide between the two that are left up here. I pick the smaller, cozier one with a big bed, a large window, and a wide vanity dresser. It's the room farthest down the hall on the left, right next to a bathroom. We all help each other carry our things to our designated rooms, and we end up chilling for a while in Roman's room, which lies on the opposite side of the hall from mine.

"You guys must have amazing summers every year, this is spectacular," I breathe, staring up at the rotating ceiling fan as I lie spread out on my back on the black summer duvet that covers the bed. Sage is lying beside me on his stomach, and Roman sits cross-legged on the opposite side of him.

"Wait until you see the lakes," Sage tells me with a lazy smile.

"Or until we take you out on the quads."

"Or to the Gazebo on the weekends."

"Yeah, don't forget the jam sessions."

"Oh, hell yes, you're absolutely right..."

I giggle as they exchange suggestions like this for a moment.

"Yep. This is pretty much perfect, you guys," I sigh contently.

*******************************

We eventually join the adults outside on the lower cabin, visiting with them for a while over bowls of various snacks. Roman and Sage seem to be a magnet to the little cousins, especially the girls, which I find increasingly adorable. One particularly affectionate one, a 4-year-old blonde cousin of Roman's, has taken a liking to me. Janie is her name, and she likes to climb up on my lap whenever I'm sitting. She has a wide-eyed fascination with my hair, and plays with it constantly. I have zero babysitting experience, and am a little stiff and awkward with her 4-year-old lack of personal space. I have never been a huge fan of small children, but the brood here is generally very sweet. Especially Janie.

We sit in conversation with an aunt and an uncle of Roman's, his mother, and Sage's parents for a while. Other groups of adults of the family trickled off to go down to the lakes, or hike with some of the children, stuff like that. After a bit, we all pitch in to help grill hot dogs and hamburgers for lunch, accompanied by more laughing and visiting.

"Allie! Play birdie with me!" I raise my eyebrows and smile as I lift my empty paper plate that I carry on my way to a trash bag at the end of a picnic table in the front lawn, peering down at the blue-eyed Janie.

"What's that, hun?" I say in a sweet voice as she tugs at my shorts.

"Biiiiiirdiiiiiie!" she crows excitedly, waving a badminton racket up at me, pointing toward a net set up beside the big shed.

"Have another racket?" I ask as I let her lead me by the finger to the net. She scrambles to grab me one, and we stand on opposite sides of the netting. As 4-year-olds tend to do, she fumbles with serving the shuttlecock, and soon just tosses it over the net that's been lowered to accommodate all these small children. She has such a hard time hitting it, that we end up ditching the rackets to just toss the birdie back and forth.

"Are you kicking her butt, Janie?" Roman's voice floats in a laugh from behind me. The little girl screeches as she tosses the birdie my way, and I make a show of diving for it and missing.

"She's an all-star, wearing me out!" I call from where I lay collapsed in the sun-heated grass, and Janie ducks under the net to pounce on me. She squawks and giggles as I tickle her, and out of nowhere, we're both assaulted by Roman. Ganging up on me, Roman holds me securely on his lap while Janie's tiny fingers tickle my sides. I'm practically in tears as I beg for mercy. Sage leaps in to my defense, scooping up Janie in a trail of little-girl laughter as he twirls her around in the air. I overtake Roman by using his own fatal weakness of tickling.

The whole day is spent just at the cabin property, kicking balls around, visiting with everyone when we get tuckered out, and romping over the large boulders on the hill in the back yard. By the time dinner comes, the parties from hiking and the like are back to join everyone. We dine in the lower cabin, where the kitchen and large-family dining room are, and eat delicious steaks grilled by the Spade brothers and Sage's dad.

After dinner, Roman and Sage and I sit on the stairs of the lower cabin porch, watching the little kids play a variation of volleyball with a blown-up balloon and the badminton net. The setting sun is covered by rumbling clouds that roll in overhead.

"Your little cousins are so cute, Roman," I say as I nudge him.

"You should see them when they act like terrors. They're in the sweet phase now," he smirks, jabbing me back with his elbow.

"Now, which ones are yours and which ones are Sage's?" I ask, still not being able to keep track.

"Well, all three of my siblings have brown hair," Sage says with a chuckle, and I recognize the small brown-haired girl that clung to Roman's leg earlier.

"Yeah, all of my uncles' kids have that blonde gene, makes it easy for you," Roman adds with a grin. I scoff at him.

"Someday I'll learn everyone's names," I chime with a sneer.

The sound of high-pitched squeals from the flock of children on the sloping lawn below draw our attention. It has started to sprinkle, to the delight of the kids, and they run around screeching in excitement as they play in the rain that increases in intensity with each second. All three of us raise our heads to the dark clouds above, watching the rain start to come down in torrents. I give a laugh as I extend my arms out to catch the thick, chilly drops on my palms. A body slams against mine, sending me off the steps and into the rainstorm with a sinister cackle. I give a shout as the downpour instantly soaks through my clothing and makes my hair stick to my face as my assailant pins my arms to my sides to securely keep me in the rain.

"It's just a little water, Allie!" Roman's voice shouts in my ear over the rushing sound of the rain and wind as I flail about in his grasp. A streak of forked lightning rips the sky above, and the excited laughter of the small children turns to screeches of terror as a monstrous thunderclap shakes the ground in the lightning's wake. Roman releases me quickly as some of the older kids scatter, ducking for the lower cabin and the safety of adults. The younger ones are reduced to being frozen in terror, wailing in fright as the lightning continues to light up the area in brief flashes. Sage and Roman are instantly down into the yard, scooping up a terrified toddler here, taking the hand of another there. I slip and stumble down the soaked lawn to join them, guiding one of Sage's tiny, sobbing sibling as the summer thunderstorm refuses to be gentle. The heavy rain makes it harder to see, but we get all the children safely into the lower cabin, where the adults soothe them and dry them with towels and instant hot chocolate from the pantry.

Standing at the doorway of the cabin, trying our best not to track in any water and mud, Roman and I watch as the children are being taken care of. His deep chuckle rumbles beside me.

"They'll be alright. Haven't hit the stage where thunder and lightning is cool yet, I guess," he winks down at me with a grin when I look up at him.

"Guess not, poor things."

"You seen Sage?"

"He's with Chloe and Ben," I say, pointing to where Sage is curled up on a couch with two of his younger siblings, under a blanket with his arms draped over each one.

"Well... I love summer storms. Come on," he murmurs, sliding his hand into mine and pulling me out the door. He leads me as far as the steps before releasing my hand to pull ahead, leaping straight into the rain with a laughing shout. I smile wide as I stand on the last step, just underneath the overhang of the porch. Slightly chilled by the rain, goose bumps break out over my skin as I hold onto the porch railing, the wind blowing sheets of rain at me periodically as I watch Roman. He skids around on the slick grass, running and sliding back and forth, back and forth. His grace of athleticism mesmerizes me. The muscles of his back and arms are prominent as he runs and slides across the grass, his black Bring Me the Horizon shirt soaked and clinging to his body. His hair is saturated as well, hanging even lower in his face and on his neck, and he sends more droplets out to join the torrential downpour surrounding him when he shakes it out of his face.

His smile is gorgeous.

If I had a camera at this very instant, I'd be capturing every turn of his head, every lithe twist of his torso, each time he glimpses back at me with those eyes through the sheets of rain that glance off his face and run in beautiful streams down his skin. He stops to stand still in the rain, holding his hands palm-up as he tilts his head back to close his eyes and let the drops fall on his face. I watch him intently, the warm feeling of admiration in my heart blooming stronger than ever. I gaze at him, my eyes running down his profile to his strong neck, and back. He looks calm, hair pushed back with the flow of rainwater, thick dark brows raised. His profile is so chiseled.

My heart pounds like mad when he slowly tilts his head back down and gazes over at me, charcoal hair still slicked back, settling his smoky eyes directly on mine. And we just stand there, regarding each other for a few rapid heartbeats. The corner of his mouth slides slowly up into a smile as he continues to look at me warmly.

"You coming?" His voice is even, and tender. I give a silent laugh as I nod and break his eye contact to gaze up at the sky, where torrent after torrent of rain pours down from the cloudy heavens. I push my soaked and stringy hair away from my face as I look back, and Roman is stepping toward me. He stops directly in front of me, eye level because of the last step I stand on. He gives me a grin before blowing a gust of air in my face.

"Hey!" I laugh, rubbing at my irritated nose. He chuckles as he leans up against the same post that I lean on, his arm wrapping around it to enclose me in the crook of his elbow, our bodies inches from one another. With a persistent and unyielding heart, my hand goes to his neck almost involuntarily. I can't resist touching him. Not when he looks at me like that with such warmth, not when the warmth in my own chest craves it. His skin is cold to the touch, and I spread my palm flat against his pale neck, the tips of my fingers gracing the bottom of his jawline.

"You're cold," I whisper with a small chuckle, my fingers navigating their own path up the side of his chiseled jaw to push a few strands of stringy black hair off of his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch, and in response, I fully run my fingers through his thick locks. His brows rise slightly as he tilts his head back and sighs deeply. Cracking open his eyes as I continue, he captures my gaze for a few moments.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft and low. I smile.

"Hey." I tilt my head to the side as I slide my hand down to rest with my palm against his cheek and jaw, my fingers in the tangled hair near his ear. Chest to chest now, his hands move to my hips, holding me fast against him. I can't take my eyes off his, intent and deep, as a smirk creeps up on his face.

And he literally throws me into the storm.