In another valley, the terrain got even rougher, tall mountains reaching the clouds that were coloured of weathered stones and the occasional bush or moss that found a way to live in the dangerous inhabitable slopes. While the sun was warm and pleasant on my skin in the previous valley, a dark cloud warningly hung above us, the tops clouded with mist, and the mountains ahead invisible with grays. The sudden winds danced around my bare arms and shoulders and I halted to a stop by the first cold droplets of rain that had been daring me to keep going while still nestled in the clouds. Rain started pouring, our views obstructed as we made our way to a wooden shed with larges eaves wrapping around. If we pressed ourselves flat against the wall, we stayed dry, apart from my full skirt that tipped out from under the roof.

Wet strands of black hair were stuck to my face, water dripping from my hairline, eyebrows, lashes and nose. Goosebumps embraced my arms, but I still cackled out a laugh at the beautiful sight and just our luck. Stranded by what seemed to be an abandoned shed, looking at the splinters sticking out everywhere, the overgrown grass and bushes against the sides, and the lack of buildings around it, of course.

We slid inside the shed, just as cold, but even darker and less visible than the outside. I kept the large doors on a crack to let in a sliver of daylight, while simultaneously letting in a mist of rain when the winds blew just right. Grass and weeds had grown through the cracks of cobblestones laid out neatly in the grounds. There were no signs of animals having found refuge from the weather inside, but my raised shoulders promised a concern for sudden appearances of bats or mouses.

The air and our clothing was damp, and we sat down agains the back wall, our bodies wet from rain infused with drops of sweat in our heavy garments. Our bare arms touched, sticking together, but neither moved away. I blew out a heavy breath. “I don’t know whether this was a good idea, but I guess we’ve gone too far to stop now,” I said with insecurity, looking at him quizzically.

His mouth pulled up in a laugh and a sigh at the same time. “At least it’s adventurous. I’m quite enjoying this quiet life.”

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? So calm and so silent.” I hitched up my pleads of skirts and let my legs cool off. John’s eyes stared in the distance through the crack of the door at the lush green landscape, now blurry. The rain kept ticking rhythmically on the roof, not showing signs of stopping any time soon.

“But god, I miss pants and a normal bra.” I pinched my brows together, staring at the same spot John was.

“Not a skirts person?” He asked absentmindedly.

I shook my head. “I am, just not… five skirts.” I rolled the pleads outward and we both laughed.

We sat in silence some more, listening to the sound of nothing but rain and soft breathing. After the events of today, my eyes grew heavy and I fluttered my lashes a few times to try and stay awake. My head thudded softly against the wood behind me, resting tiredly. John mirrored my actions, and even shut his eyes for a few moments. In the silence, I heard his stomach growl a bit, and when I touched my own stomach underneath my tight corset symbolically, I realised I was feeling slightly faint as well, not having eaten since the morning. The stress and adrenaline had kept me busy, and my mind any place but a plate of food, but now that I had allowed myself to settle down, the hunger increased by the minute.

As if my thoughts were splayed out in front of me, John opened his small leather pouch and pulled out a flask we had used for water, that was half full, and a glass bottle, containing an amber substance and some bubbles at the top. My eyes opened wide.

“Where did you get whiskey from?” I asked.

John shrugged. He unceremoniously removed the cork of the bottle with his teeth, which made me stare at his mouth just a bit longer than I wished. “Got it from the stable lad.” He took a long gulp, and though I refrained from drinking any alcohol, I wished to put the very same bottle to my mouth as well. I shook my head, trying to shake the thought away simultaneously. John quirked up a dark eyebrow, and held out the bottle, but I waved it away and smiled softly at him. Instead, I opted for the flask of water, that was now lukewarm and gone in just a gulp or two. “It may help with the hunger, until we reach a town again, I mean.” His eyes gleamed tentatively, and his body language was closed off, as if he was hesitant to share. Not because he wanted it for himself, but because he knew I did not drink by now. I licked my lips once and leaned in. Without asking, he softly put the bottle against my lips and tilted it, the gross liquid trickling down my throat. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, not liking it a bit, while he laughed, not removing the bottle just yet. He stared at it, brown eyes and heavy lashes looking down at his large hand holding a glass bottle against my craving lips, plump with hunger. He cocked his head to the side, asking silently whether I wanted more, and though I did not like the taste, the warmth in my belly asked for it. I nodded up at him with pursed eyebrows. He tilted the bottle again and I took a gulp, this time one that was bigger. At the same time, we both let go of our unusual bodily connection, just staring. The air had gone a bit colder, and John reached out a thumb to catch the singular droplet of whiskey on my bottom lip. I shuddered to the touch of his skin against mine. It took me a moment to compose myself, and move back to the wall again.

“That okay?” He asked, his voice husky. I nodded. “There might be a tavern in the next valley, but it’s nearing dark, especially if it doesn’t stop raining.” He touched his clean shaven jaw and looked somewhere behind me, most probably at his own imagined thought. “We could settle down for the night here and travel by dusk again if the weather won’t settle, is that okay with you?”

I looked around the empty shed, longing for a soft bed and a pair of clean clothes after a long deserved shower. My shoulders dropped, but I quickly tensed my muscles and raised them again. “It will do!” I said with fake enthusiasm. John caught it immediately and chuckled. That made me smile as well.

John splayed out a few blankets on the cold and damp floor of the shed. When he folded the last corner over, the sky crackled with electricity, thinder rolling over the mountainsides. My muscles tensed from the scare, as did his. We laid down beside each other on the floor, uncomfortable in our clothes. His breathing sounded like a lifeline in my ear, knowing I was not alone, beside barely knowing the mysterious London academic. It was comforting, as my heart slowed its pace.

Our conscious sizzled out as we fell asleep almost instantly. The long day had made me more tired than I cared to admit, although from the looks of the sun it was barely the early evening.

———

My eyes fluttered open when a beam of bright sunlight hovered over my face from the crack of the barn door. It took me a moment to remember where I was — that being, about two hundred years in the past somewhere in the Dolomites.

I got up, back aching from the makeshift bed, and when my mind reached consciousness, I got up on my heels and reached for the door.

The valley had looked like it did when we first arrived on horseback. Swollen clouds shaded the mountain tops against the crisp blue sky. Wildflowers sprung from dry patches of grass in all colours. Cicadas chirped, and other than a few birds the entire valley was quiet, as everything lain so far apart. The sun warmed my bare face, glistening through the large pine trees scattered across the fields.

A smile spread on my face, and at the same time John awoke from his bumpy slumber and stood behind me, admiring the landscape of mountains, engulfing us like walls, and greenery everywhere as if we were looking at a painting.

His arm reached over my shoulder, pointing at a small lake about half a kilometre from the shed. In the gray haze of the rain, we had missed it, riding to the shed with haste.

“Clean water,” I dreamily murmered, my composure softening at the thought of a clean body. My dress was soaked in mud at the bottom, my shoes worse for wear.

We ran, one foot in front of the other, over the wet grass towards the lake. We hurried out of our clothes, and though usually quite reserved, the act if being naked with one another — in public, if you can call it that — was the last thing on my mind.

Disclaimer: this is an excerpt of a little story about time travellers to help me practice my writing, especially about setting and action. Also, English is not my first language, but I’m practicing :)