Illusive Eden - He Pretends He's the Hero

Sweet life: insane, bewildering, a fantasy. A little while before, whimpering—in tears, the lovely now—ever smiles, echoes love mellow a hymn.

Honeymoon; a turning page, let this love stay forever. Space fleets for all, if feasible, please stay a little longer.

"You're crazy!" Neva huffs, her husband laughs aloud, victorious in teasing the little wife, her features scarlet in embarrassment.

She's adorned in a beautiful soft, flax smoke prairie dress—perfecting with laces and puffed sleeves, warmed up to the pristine grace of cottagecore dresses. Cream knitted sweater a shade from the cold. The man apparelled in his casual, comfy pants and a black hooded jacket.

The newly weds, wander through the dense wood. Snow from the day of their marriage, defrosts towards the earth. Man and wife—as of today, it had been three days.

Young and wild, the morning after, the moon arose with the lovers on the bed for the most part—an entire day and night.

"Crazy for you. Crazy in love with you." He reveals, pecking her rosy cheek. Neva enlarges her orbs a slim, she shys—gazing away to the side.

He chuckles, their hands entangled. This morning, she conveyed her wish to explore the woods beyond the countryside of Ziriri. From their little cottage home, the enchanting shadow of the sleeping woods lured her heart. For the day they made home to Ziriri, the eyes allured with the first faint glimpse of the far woods.

Fresh wintry wood: shallow snow upon the branches and the soft defrosting under the feet. Tall narrows of trees, naked altogether with thorny, wet, bare arms.

The winter shy, worn lush leaves of green. Green velvet moss, as the snow defrosts, appears merry. The unstripped creepers, shrubs, vines—brushing the deep of the woods verdant and solemn.

"Will it snow today?" Neva asks, peering up at the sky, through the rifts of the great tall pine trees. They were in for an evening stroll for a little while more.

"Perhaps," He returns, his eyes sweetly laced on his Angel, "today's not so–"

Ahhh!!

His words halts in the air, for; an abrupt scream of a girl interrupts—slashing through the hush woods.

Neva flinches, gripping on to Rhett for her dear soul. His head swivels, towards the route, he senses the voice fell from. He glances down at the terrified woman.

A strong arm wraps around her, "Are you alright?" Concern dripping in his orbs; Neva's breathing tattered. She's wounded deep; for the tragedy pierced her spirit.

"W-who was that?" She swallows the anxiousness, the screams of agony and terror, so familiar to the bones.

"Should I take a look?" He searches her eyes, awaiting her response. Someone seems to be in danger, the scene won't have to be pleasing to the eyes. He hopes not to strain her more.

"You should, I'm coming with you." She says, assuring him through the thread of the eyes.

"Are you sure?" If he's near her, she'd be safer had any cruelty does hover in the woods. They're too far deep to send her back home alone, staying still on the ground had a danger of it's own. Slitting on his tangling ponders, she nods in a haste. "Yes, let's hurry."

"Stay close to me." In a brisk turn of his head, ahead to the narrow trail, his eyes sharpens—the strides long and rash.

Ahhhh!!

The blustering of screams, agonizing wails; Neva has her heart creeped out.

Haste steps—beginning to turn a run. His hand gripping her wrist tight, he sprints towards the voice, Neva harshly keeping pace the race with the rushing him.

The scattered echoes in the woods, scarcely spares him the space to discern the spring of the voice.

Through the tangled vines, spiking shrubs, fallen logs, thick snow—refusing to make haste and defrost; for the sunlight did not spare the shade some heat. Quivers the chilly breeze the green leaves, sways the wilds—as the lovers pace strokes.

"Help!! Somebody help!!"

And when Rhett ceases the rush, lending a breather to Neva. The close shriek clears of the puzzle. Inaudibly, he trudges against the bushes, his hand agapes through the lush of emerald, the other one a safe hold on Neva.

There on the deep pond—cracked a hole, a girl fallen through the ice, splashing and breaking the thin frost.

"Help somebody help..." Her voice trembles, faltering away, groggy and croaked from the screaming and the freeze.

Neva endeavours to sight through the space he made, her eyes unveils of the drowning girl, she gasps, "Oh my God."

They form their path through the openings of the wild undergrowths.

"Stay here." Rhett frees her hand, scanning around the ground in search of a branch for assistance.

He picks up a long, sturdy branch, broken off a tree.

Stepping on the safe thick ice—closening the distance, for the girl to grab on to the branch. Any better, did the girl fallen in the middle of the frozen pond, help with the distance.

She barely holds on to her life, clutching her freezing hands on to the ice, her upper half on the surface, slowly slipping into the water.

The girl heeds to their presence, gazing up at him, hope shines in the reddened eyes. "Please...help me!" There, her blurry vision presents her with the saviour. She could glimpse the worried woman a little further.

"It's alright...calm yourself." He says, carefully approaching closer. "Try to kick and pull your weight towards the surface of the ice you've held on."

She attempts to do so, her elbows on the ice holding her up, she tries to pull her body, yet slips horribly. "I can't!" She cries, scared so much. "I can't feel my legs." She sobs harder.

"Breathe, we'll save you." He cautiously approaches her closer.

"Please be careful!" Neva calls out to him, seeing him near the fragile of ice.

"Is your core fine?" He asks the girl.

She nods. "I think so..."

"Grip the branch." He advices, holding it out for her, he crouches down a safe distance from the shattered ice. "Use your core as I pull you up."

Neva's terrified frame—hands clutched tight on her chest—loosens a little. She breathes out in solace.

He had slowly pulled her up, her body horizontal, the girl sliding flat on the surface of the ice. Pulling her to safety. He wraps her arm around his shoulder, as his own encircles around her. The gasping girl, dragged a little to the land.

Neva hurries to them. Now that she had a better look at her, she seemed to be a girl in her early teen. She gets her sweater off—draping it over the terrified girl. She starts wailing, she almost felt; she won't leave out there alive.

Neva wraps her arms around the girl, holding her close to the chest. "It's alright, you're safe." The child leans in to her. Her warmth a console to her trembling heart, cold and traumatized form.

"I'll have to carry her." Rhett remarks, sliding his jacket off. He holds it out for Neva. "I won't want you catching a cold."

Neva glances at the girl, she would need it the most. "I'm fine."

"It's getting colder. Put it on." He demands. Neva relents, separating from the girl clutching onto her. She accepts his jacket. Rhett lifts the girl on his arms, as Neva hurriedly and clumsily wears his jacket.

The darkness in the closing of the evening twilight hushes the surround. The serene woods appears to be murkier, silent and a little lot scarier.

They follow the illumination from the cottage houses, out, beyond the frosty and sleeping woods. Scurrying to make an aid for the girl falling through ice.