A demon and lazarus

Watson runs up behind her. She can surely hear him approaching down the trail. He could practically smell her sweat, god it’s intoxicating.

“Hey, this your first time running?” Wow, dumb opening. Of course it’s not idiot.

“Ever?” she replied sarcastically, not looking at him.

“I mean like—as a sport, on a trail, competing or whatever.”

“Who’s competing?” She said with the same monotone voice.

“I just wanna say that you’re leaning forward a bit too much. You’ll feel way better if you keep your back straight. You’ll be able to breath smoother, and your strides will be more even.” He said this really confidently. He said it as if he cared about her and wanted the best for her. There wasn’t any tone of condescension at all.

She gave him a quick look out of the corner of her eye. He stared back at her and kept eye contact. It’s hard to be imposing and bitchy when you look so stupid running. She slowly straightened her back and leveled out her stride. She breathed in, and out. She didn’t say anything, but she looked content. Her face told him that she was grateful, but she didn’t have the words within her.

“I’m here for the **** like everyone else.” He said jokingly.

“What?” She looked confused.

“The high is real. There’s no purer high than being exhausted, dehydrated and sore. That’s the good stuff. And then you get to eat absolutely anything you want.”

“Clearly you haven’t done the right ****.” She derided him.

Watson looked her up and down, then at her shaved head, then into her eyes. She knew the look. She knew what he meant. A fiery demon torch was lit in her pupils. Her crimson eyes flashed at him, and she stopped in her tracks. Watson couldn’t stop in time, and he ran past her. He slowed down and looked back, she just stood there in the middle of the trail. No way was he going back there. He saw it. He saw the look. The thing inside her that could topple empires and bring legion of men to their knees. No way was he turning back. He stared straight ahead of him and didn’t turn around again. A fire started in his belly that told him to run. Run as fast as possible, get away from that thing it said, but another part of him felt drawn. Drawn very deeply. He wanted to go back, he wanted to tell her he was sorry. That it was all his fault and he would do anything to make it better. He wanted to crawl back to her on his knees and have her forgiveness. He needed it, he wanted it, he was **** for it.

Suddenly he got snapped out of this trance by a large root on the ground. His crashed face first into the dirt and tasted gravel in his mouth. He lay there for a second, no blood, no broken teeth, he was okay. He stood up slowly, dusted himself off and came to his senses. He felt as if he traveled out of his body for a few minutes. But he’s back, and he’s okay. He looked around him, he was all alone on the trail. He kept on running.

Eventually, an hour or so later, he reached the end of the route with all the other students. They were sitting, chatting, sipping water and sucking gels.

“Where’s the new girl? The tattooed one.” Asked Jacobsen

“I passed her along the way.” Responded Watson.

“You’re the last one. Go find her dude. We don’t leave any runners behind.” Said Jacobsen, beginning he warm down stretch routine.

Watson grabbed a full water bottle and started running back down the trail. About 5 minutes later he came upon her. She’s barely running, her feet are dragging, and she looks in **** need of water. She sees him standing there with the water bottle, she looks at him like he’s Lazarus came back from the dead. She frantically grabs the bottle of water and pushes him to the ground. She lands on top of him, chest to chest. Their sweaty bodies swimming together on the ground. Watson braces himself with his arms, but it’s too late. He lands flat on his back and she on top of him. For a second their sweaty privates were pressed together. Their precious bodily fluids mixing through polyester and cotton. Mary doesn’t even know what happened, she eagerly gasps down the water bottle, takes a few deep breaths and then rolls over on her back. They lay in the dirt for a moment. A good 15 seconds pass before either of them say or do anything. At this point all of Watsons body is covered in dirt, a few seconds isn’t doing any harm.

Watson stands up first and offers Mary a hand to help her up. Looking down the barrel of a gun, he see’s her puffy, sweaty camel toe eating the crotch of her running shorts. He couldn’t help looking at it, it was staring right back at him. He quickly realized what he was doing and looks up at Mary into her eyes. She grabs his hand and lets him bring her to her feet. She’s giving nothing away. He can’t tell if she knew what just happened, or if she caught him looking at her. They held eye contact, he felt seen down to his skeleton. Her hands travel down to her shorts as she adjusts them, her hands pinching the inside of her sweaty crotch and stretching out the fabric.

“Thanks for the water.” She says. Her eyes are still telling him nothing.

“Yeah… f—for sure.” The most flustered he has even been.

They make their way to the end with the others and begin the cool down stretches. He can’t get her out of his mind. Does she have me? Did I fall in? Why isn’t she looking at me.