593. Muted Memories

The chapter I didn't write. Goes something like this:

After the initial explosion, Arn, Rog and Yul are covered in white dust and plaster like shrubs after a snowfall. We see the scene through the eyes of Yul, two grayish crystals (her eyes) taking in the sight as if they were diamonds on a bed of cotton. She is semi-conscious and sights are somewhat faded and sounds are muted and the action seems to be moving in slow motion and as multi-hued las fire is exchanged all she can see is the beautiful colors. Any sense of danger is completely absent, such as small child, too young to know otherwise, might not see the danger as a parent scuttles about in a disaster.

Instead, she feels a warm sleepiness, similar to the feeling of just waking up. She watches Rog, taking note of this body, his arms, dirty and sweaty and how muscular they are in action. She notices his movements, strong, athletic and he seems like a roughhewn statue come to life, angular, chiseled, in a masculine way, in a way she has felt with her own hands and in a way she wants to feel again; a way that says without saying, this is mine. His voice is deep but distant, fading in and out, sometimes louder, sometimes less so and although she cannot make out what is said, just a word here and there, the tone, though urgent, is comforting, a sense of familiarity that seems more important than the events of the moment. When the fighting is over, she closes her eyes, in part because she is tired and in part because she knows Rog is going to take care of her and in part to capture the memory of what she has just witnessed before moving on to new memories. She remembers him picking her up. Remembers being placed over his shoulder. Remembers just how good that felt.