Summary: A ficlet inspired by @boneandfur ‘s submission for Throwback Thursday. Suggested Song Pairing: ‘La Isla Bonita’ by Madonna!
Tropical the island breeze
All of nature wild and free
This is where I long to be
La isla bonita
It was a perfect day on the white sand beach of Formentera, sunlight kissing the surface of the crystal blue waters, the sky the brightest azure I had likely ever seen. My skin glistened in the sultry heat from where it peeked out under the long, flowing beach wrap I had tied around my hips. My chest rose and fell evenly as I took in the salty ocean air, allowing it to clear my head of any clutter. I had walked along the shore with my toes in the water for some time and had returned to my chair where I fixed it, farther from the ocean and closer to the sandy path leading up to a few beautiful properties. I imagined the people who lived there and wondered what it might be like to reside in such a stunning place.
A warm, delightful breeze came drifting over the skin on my arms and face, but picked up quickly to a gust of wind that flipped the pages of my book and carried my sun hat away.
I gasped, hand flying to the top of my head not a second too late. Turning around, I saw my hat sliding and flipping along the sand on a journey of its own. It had already been carried a few yards away by the time I shot up to chase it, hair blowing wildly around. A sigh fell from my lips as I followed its trajectory all the way up to one of the private properties, hand shielding my brow from the sun.
It was truly breathtaking, this house, and all I could see was the back of it. With its spanish architecture, thriving greenery and flowers draped along a trellis, it felt as though I were walking into a dream. I could hear the distant sound of a woman’s voice singing from a radio, her musical accompaniment becoming clearer as I kept my eyes peeled for a runaway big-brimmed sun hat.
As I stood just inches away from an archway, I turned and there it was, sitting dead in the middle of this stranger’s backyard. I stepped tentatively closer, eyes darting from side to side, but seeing no one.
“Hello?” I called. “Hola?”
Sensing no form of response or acknowledgment, I wandered into the gorgeous, open space. Padding lightly on my feet, I couldn’t help but look around and admire the scenery around me. I thought that it was almost as beautiful as the beach, which had been the most heart-stopping sight I had ever laid eyes on.
Until I saw him.
My stomach nearly dropped to my feet when I stood up with hat in hand and laid eyes on a man just a few steps away, standing naked under an outdoor shower. My immediate reaction was to gulp. And while my brain screamed at me to bolt, my body simply could not move.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a warm, golden bronze complexion stretching over his muscular frame. His skin reminded me of smoky quartz as it shone, slick and wet under the steady stream of water. A strong arm tattooed with ink reached up to move his hair from his face. He hadn’t seen me as his back was turned, but, as he let the water beat down on his face, he rotated, flashing me a view of his side profile. And, let me tell you… it didn’t disappoint.
I was still picking my jaw up from the floor when he noticed me intruding in his space. I don’t think my face had ever turned so red before in my life. While I was clutching my hat for dear life, looking away and stuttering like a mess, he had hardly seemed startled at all. A grin spread across his face, eyes dancing with curiosity, as he reached out for a towel.
“Hello, there!” He winked, waving with his free hand.
The only way I felt comfortable in this moment was looking at the ground and covering my eyes. Dear, God, save me.
“I am so sorry!” I yelled, “I… I lost my hat on the beach…” My right hand stayed put over my eyes while the left waved my hat in the air. “The wind carried it up to your property! I… I didn’t know anyone was home…”
Before I could continue making an ass of myself, I saw a pair of wet, tanned feet stopping just before my own. His hand waved under my face.
“It’s okay, you know, I’m covered now,” said the man, smiling at me when I looked up, still blushing. “I apologize for the nudity. I just returned from the beach, myself, and, well… I wasn’t expecting guests”. He chuckled through a self-assured grin. His eyes were dark and hair raven, and standing this close, I could now see that the tattoo on his tricep was the image of an owl. He extended his hand.
“My name is Zig,” he said.
I took his hand and shook it, holding on probably a little too long. “Zig?” I repeated.
“Short for Zigmund,” he explained, and then, like he had just stepped out of a romance novel, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it gently, “Zigmund Ortega”.
I wasn’t sure why Zig was so trusting in a perfect stranger, or why I was, either, to be perfectly honest, but what I am sure of is that all of my good judgment and inhibition flew right out the window when he shot me that smile.
We had shared a laugh over the awkward meet-cute and he had been quick to offer me a drink, which I so blithely accepted. I sat out on his patio with a refreshing Rebujito while he had gone inside briefly to change. We sat together, sharing stories, practicing my horrible pronunciation of the Spanish language for what felt like hours. And then, he began to play me the guitar. A dreamy spanish ballad played with nimble fingers, fingers which I wanted so badly to touch me.
He taught me the lyrics to the song he was playing and we sang together, him sounding sexy as hell, and me tripping over my own tongue, if that were possible. Listening to his silky voice had me falling out of my chair and onto a cloud.
After we sang together, we danced a little bit of the Samba, something I didn’t feel quite so hopeless at. Being close to his body set my senses on fire. I found myself tracing a fingertip over the lines of his tattoo, mesmerized by this entire afternoon. I hadn’t once even thought about the belongings I had left stranded on the beach. I felt the orange glow of the setting sun warming my face when he pulled me close, leaning in and whispering,
“Hermosa, te amo…”
Suddenly my eyes flew open and I felt totally jarred. Jerking awake, I blinked a few times, squirming around in the front seat of a vehicle. It took me a few seconds to become acclimated to my surroundings or to even realize where I was. It was the passenger seat of Zack’s uncle’s van. I was with my friends on a road trip, driving cross country. Had I drifted to sleep?
Madonna’s ‘La Isla Bonita’ crackled over the van’s radio, frequency going in and out. I frowned slightly and looked straight ahead.
“Hey, sleepy head, you okay?”
I jumped at the sound of the voice coming from the driver’s seat. Turning to face the source of that voice, I saw my friend, Zig, looking back at me, confused. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out the window. I just blinked at him.
“Man, did you have a weird dream or something?” he asked, chuckling a bit.
Blushing fiercely, I sat up straight, tugging at the neckline of my shirt. “Yeah, uh…” I cleared my throat, “Totally… weird”.