Papillon: A Gothic Romance Novella by Sonia Palermo

Author:Sonia Palermo [Palermo, Sonia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

14

Millie

I’m not cut out for this kind of exercise.

After barely eating the last couple of days, extreme hunger has finally caught up with me, and now it’s starting to materialise. My head is light, my legs like jelly, and the only thing I really want to do right now is curl up on the grass and go to sleep. Not to mention the fact that the air is so humid that it’s almost unbreathable. But the view could be worse. Zain is dressed in black skinny jeans and a t-shirt with some obscure band I’ve never heard of, and I can’t stop staring at him. At least his presence is giving me the momentum to carry on.

Periodically, he’ll turn around to check in, and every time he does, it catches me off guard, and I have to pretend that I haven’t just been freely ogling to my heart’s content.

Once we reach the outskirts of the stone circle, he stops and waits for me, letting the others take the lead while my feet catch up with his, my heart throbbing from exertion.

“Here we are,” he says, his voice steady and rhythmic as always, his appearance so perfectly untouched that nobody would know that he’s been hiking across farmland for the best part of an hour.

Now that it’s evening, the thirty-degree heat from the day has eased off to a reasonable twenty. But I’m still struggling with the humidity.

I didn’t think this world could be any more disappointing, but I am completely and utterly underwhelmed at the sight of Stonehenge.

“It’s a bit...small,” I deadpan.

“That’s what she said.” He laughs, sweat dripping from his hairline, and I try to shy away from thoughts of licking it away. “Come on, size isn’t everything.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Touchez, Papillon.”

He might not realise it, but Zain is far more impressive than any wonder of the world. He puts his arm around me, and we start to walk again, side by side. I think about this morning. To those hands on me. In me. Bonfire smoke fills my lungs, and noise pollutes the air. The sound of percussion, of drums and wind instruments, and the distinct sound of the wilderness.

“Some people say that Stonehenge is a giant fertility symbol,” Zain says. “You can’t see it from this angle, but from an aerial view, it looks like a female sexual organ.”

“It looks like a bunch of rocks to me.”

“There’s symbolism in everything, Millie. You just have to find what something means to you. There’s no right or wrong.

“Some people say it has strong connections to Mother Earth, that the central area represents the opening of which she gave birth to plants and animals. It’s a place of life and birth, a place that looks to the future. Rebirth, creation, and regeneration. Others say that the stones were placed in such a way that cast phallic shadows.”

“Man, what a way to celebrate the patriarchy,” I say dryly.

“I’ll show you my favourite one later.”

“You have a dick shadow preference?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Zain says, squeezing my shoulder in a way that makes my body lean into his.

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