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If Anya has learned anything in the past weeks or months that she can only remember in fleeting time skips, it’s that nothing is what it seems in the Simmer.
And Area X makes a liar out of everyone.
Josie is currently leading the way through the forest. As the mission has gone on and on, she’s stripped down and removed her protective layers. Now only a thin undershirt covers her strong back, which is always just out of Anya’s reach.
It’s a lie. Anya knows she could, at any point, touch the other woman, but she doesn’t. She keeps telling herself she doesn’t want to, that she’s okay never touching her that way, that she’s fine, thank you very much.
But those are just more lies.
They’d woken up in the guard tower, just the two of them, on an overly warm morning. No one else from their expedition was around and nothing of Ventress or Lena remained. There was only Cassie’s picked-through backpack discarded on the floor next to their sleeping bags. Had the two of them been abandoned? Anya was unsure.
She remembered Cassie getting dragged away in the night. And she remembered so much more, but the rest had seemed unreal and terrible. Those did not seem like her memories at all.
When she’d asked Josie about what she remembered, the other woman had only shaken her head.
“Everything’s all jumbled up in here,” Josie said, and Anya hadn’t pushed, afraid that Josie would look at her like she had that last time in the house, the sound of screaming echoing until everything went dark.
Still, the sun rose high into the sky and the others were nowhere to be found. Neither of them wanted to stay in that tower or in the abandoned base, so in the end, they decided to go back. Back to the border and the Southern Reach. Raiding the mess hall , they packed Cassie’s backpack with whatever they could find and walked away from their mission.
Away from where the expedition was supposed to have gone.
There was a sick thrill in making that decision and sticking to it this time, but Anya can’t help looking over her shoulder as if drawn to the light tower. As if something deep inside of her wants, needs, to stay on the path. Or at least to have checked if those unwanted memories she has are real.
Lena’s face still stands out in her mind, lying to them, telling them they have to push forward. It’s a memory just as heavy as the one of Ventress walking away without looking back.
In front of her, Josie turns as if she can feel Anya’s mind wander, and the pull of her companion tugs at her harder then any of the unpleasant memories (fantasies? dreams?) of the other women they’ve lost contact with. The two of them keep walking, away from what feels like everything. But even as they are heading back to the real world, her home, her actual life, it no longer feels real at all.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing anymore. Is she going towards something or running away? Still, when Josie looks back at her and smiles, Anya feels less haunted by regrets that are not her own.
If only the dreams didn’t seem so real.
———————
Josie smells good in the dreams, like a campfire, like apples and caramel, like vanilla and coffee, like fresh laundry, like autumn, like everything Anya has ever wanted. When she pulls off her tank top it’s the best porn, her small breasts warm in Anya’s hands. She feels so real. Josie pulls Anya down on top of her until she settles like a blanket and they melt into each other.
Anya’s hands move as if they are drawn to the other woman’s body, as if all of her other lovers had only been a pale imitation, a test, only a parody of sex that can’t hold a candle to this strange dreamlike reality of Josie holding her close. Kissing her is like kissing the sun.
———————
Anya wakes feeling like a thief. Uncomfortable with the sharp reality of the dreams that chase her at night and the memories that make her doubt her sanity. She’s okay with the fantasy of thinking about Josie in such a personal, sexual way. But there’s something too real about the dreams. In the morning, when Anya cannot accurately account for the taste that still lingers on her tongue, the uncertainty bothers her.
And yet, is she imagining the slight smile on Josie’s face when she turns over in the sleeping bag next to her? As she crawls out of their shared tent, she’s unsure what is real.
———————
The world doesn’t make sense; everything is beautiful and everything is dying.
Her fingerprints are moving and all the sounds are too loud. It’s happening again, the same thing that happened in the memories that are not her own, and Anya wishes she was stronger, but she feels the anger and mistrust growing. She grinds her teeth and rubs her fingers together until suddenly Josie is there in front of her. Looking at her, through her, and Anya hates her. Did she know? Did she know this would happen? Is Josie a liar as well?
Josie takes her hand and suddenly it’s as if the world stops. The sounds fade away and the light seems so much brighter—so bright, Anya has to look away. Her anger dissolves as if it were a mirage and she sighs in relief.
The hand tugs her forward and Anya follows, almost blind and deaf. It’s as if she falls into the sky, tethered only by the warm hand she’s holding.
———————
That night she dreams of running her hands along Josie’s body. Her flesh seems to glow in the darkness of their tent. She smiles up at Anya, bright like the sun, and Anya can’t help but be a little rough, soothing the small hurts with kisses. Josie squirms and moans, the pleasure rippling through her body as if her skin is moving. They are both sweaty and gasping and as real as anything has ever been. Anya licks at Josie’s nipple, biting down to make the other woman squirm, and Josie’s hands grasp her hair tightly, holding Anya as she licks her way down, down, down.
The taste of Josie becomes so much sharper and Anya has to hold the other woman’s hip as she licks between her legs, her tongue pushing deep inside her. The smell of Josie’s sweat is overpowering in the small tent as Josie opens her legs wider, and the taste of her is like the ocean, like waves crashing against Anya’s tongue.
Pleasure that is not her own rolls over Anya and she is swept under, engulfed in the light, but she’s not afraid. It feels like home.
———————
They have no idea where they are. But Anya can feel the change in the air as they get closer to the border.
This time she is awake when Josie tugs their joined hands, pulling her in close and kissing Anya. The other woman smells so good, her skin so bright, and when Anya puts a hand in Josie’s hair there are so many flowers. They are all blooming like the most elaborate of decorations, except that they seem to be growing out of Josie, to be a part of her. They feel warm and solid. It’s pretty and horrible and Anya can’t think or pull away.
She’s afraid for a moment, afraid of the changes that she can now see in the other woman. But Josie is touching her and pulling her down onto the soft earth. The sweet grass welcomes them and suddenly Anya can only think of pleasure, their bodies moving in tandem. She feels a desperation, a need to be closer, to be together as one, to let go and fall.
———————
Anya knows that she too is different, and what once drove a version of her insane is now normal. She can see just as well at night as in the day, she’s so much taller and yet she can still hold Josie’s hand, and now she can smell everything. The world is like an open book to her. They are both changed, changing, and before that scared her, frightened her. Now she barely pays it any mind.
Her hand is tangled up with the woman in front of her and the smell of her is soothing and welcoming. Maybe they should have continued on to their doom or maybe it would have been better to just lose themselves in Area X.
But they’re going home instead, bringing with them a piece of the Shimmer out from behind the barrier. They are not the answers to the questions that the Southern Reach wanted, but those were the wrong questions anyway.
Together they walk toward the border, the smell of green following them, so many paths closing behind them.