Altered Tundra — Roleplayer Guild

Heavy gasps inhaled and exhaled at such an alarming rate that both of them looked at each other for a brief moment. One male. He had that blondish-brown hair that had similarities of walnut-colored hair. His eyes had that greenish-blue hue that was remenicent of the ocean in certain angles of the sunlight. On his body was a pair of red sweatpants, and a white tank. One was female. Hair dark, eyes of dark brown(like chocolate). She too was wearing something similar to the male. Her’s had more of a greyish-blue shade, but it was very mcuh the same kind of outfit(sweats and a loose-fitting shirt).

Sweat was pouring from his face, from his arms, his back, legs, and everywhere else his sweat glands could produce sweat. He had been running for sure, that much was obvious. He had also been running fast. Again, it would be quite the obvious note to make. This heavy amount of sweat would also imply that he had been doing it for a while. One could note that, based on the amount of moisture his body was in, he had been keeping a steady pace. Granted the heat from the sun above played a large part in it, but the fact remained that this guy was panting heavily, and it had been in large part due to hsi running. 

Hunching over, the male finally readjusted his posture, and was in full, non-bent, vertical form. He grunted due to the soreness he felt in his back, the male looked at the female. She was doing the same that he did, but she had a tree to lean against. He didn’t, but it wasn’t like he really needed it now. She seemed to be in worse shape than he was. He laughed briefly, coughing not long after the first burst of laughter. He laughed again, and again he coughed. He would keep doing it knowing that he wasn’t in the shape to do multiple bursts of laughter. Still, he kept on doing it because there was a sense of euphoria going through him right now. Oh how he was in heaven right now.

“What are you so giddy about?” she said breathily, her words seeming to come out spacious, only half of a moment after one another.

“I finally beat you.” he said. The male had a wide smile on his face, spacing his laughs out as he collapsed to the floor, his chest inhaling and exhaling rapidly.

The dark-haired woman fell to her butt, back supported by the tree. She saw how utterly happy he was. There was something in the way he had his legs spread out, the way his eyes relaxed on the partly-cloudy sky, the way he smiled so wide she could see his pearly whites shine almost as bright as the sun. This was a proud moment for him. She knew this. It was a moment he had been preaching about for the past years. Always falling short, sure, but coming closer. Last year was by a foot, the year before a yard, and the first year they raced, five of those three-foot yards. 

As her eyes rested upon her collapsed male friend, she smiled. It was subtle, as if congratulating him silently. He had done it. As he preached, he finally won that race. Now he could..

“Now I can finally romance you the way I wanted to. Do you hear me, Ash? I’m going to romance the fuck out of you.” He said less-breathy than before. 

His eyes were squinting at the blaring sun. He felt the heat of the sun hit his skin. It was hot, but also welcoming; like it didn’t phase him. It was almost as if there was a barrier of glee blocking it from really hurting him. Or maybe he simply didn’t know how hot it really was. His mind was in utter and complete bliss.

“Sure you are, Jackson.” she let that smile fade. 

JAckson was looking at her now. He could barely turn his head. He saw her eyes slowly close, as if she could barely keep them open. He felt the same way. Though he wished he could look at her forever, Jackson’s physical fatigue forbade him to do so.

His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, the sight of her slowly slipping from him as he came closer and closer to unconsciousness. In the last moments he still had a hold of his conscious self, Jackson uttered one word.

“Ash…”

And then there was delighted darkness...

And wetness. Wet..

	His eyes opened and he saw her, Ash in black lingerie. She held a cup in her hand. It was empty, but it still was dripping with water. Jackson felt his chest. It was wet. He felt higher up, and his hair was dripping, so was his entire face. It took a moment, but Jackson put two and two together. Ash had dumped that on him. Well, there have been worse ways to wake up. The view of Ash in her undergarments wasn’t a bad sight, either; however, her raised voice left more to be desired. It was blaring, and defintiely got his attention.

“Well--” Jackson proceeded to say, but Ash seemed…on edge. She was frantically pacing around the room, searching for something. Jackson still was still half-asleep, so he couldn’t exactly think right at this very moment. 

	Jackson	groaned as he sat up. He rubbed his eyes to try and hasten the waking up process. It wasn’t doing much. He needed coffee, and at least a good hour before even thinking about trying to understand Ash’s frantic state of mind. 

	Ideally, he would like to have at least one cup of joe, but of course, Ash wasn’t going to wait for that, was she? She seemed to have found what she was looking for. Jackson turned his head towards her backside, and saw what she was looking for: her red dress. Jackson wiped his eyes again, and when he saw what Ash was doing, he propped up instantly.

“Uh, Ash..” Jackson said, stepping forward once.

	She didn’t hear him of course. She was yanking at the dress that was hanging in the window. Jackson was starting to remember that he put it there so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, yet there was Ash yanking at the thing. Too tired to comment on it, but Jackson knew that it couldn’t have been good for the fabric. Still, despite the troubles she was having, Ash got it. 

	And then came the problem..

	Ash lost her footing, resulting in her falling backwards. Jackson was on alert now. His arms came out, and he stepped three large steps. They were perpendicular to each other. As she would fall, Jackson would catch her in his arms in the manner that a husband would carry his bride out the chapel, and to their car. The world seemed to stop as Jackson, who was fully, 100% awake at the moment, again was looking into her eyes. Just like that dream he was having before he was rudely awoken, he was looking into Ash’s eyes. His cheeks flushed, not realizing what was about to happen.

	The dress was under his feet. Somehow in the fall, it had been released from her grasp, and was under his feet. Jackson mistakenly took a step, and slipped. They fell back, and landed on the couch. Somehow, no bones were broken, but Ash was on top of Jackson, her body  placed on top of his in a compromising position. No doubt looking down at him would bring back memories, but Jackson wouldn’t have the same feelings that she probably would have because her leg was deeply lodged into a certain body part, and Jackson was trying his best not to scream out Bloody Mary.

“Hey, uh, Ash,” Jackson squinted when he spoke. “You’re kind of..” No more words came. He gestured down south. Hopefully, for the sake of The General, and his Lieutenants, she would get the hint. The future of the Drake family tree solely depended on it.
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