[C] Drift

Anna's shoulders heaved as she wiped her forehead with her forearm.

Sand crunched under her feet as she braced herself against a big piece of bleached driftwood and shoved again, pushing it through the sand towards her beaten up old bus parked at the top of the beach.

Behind her, there was a trench of disturbed sand, showing the path that she had already pushed the driftwood. It was a good way. A good few hundred metres already. Impressive considering the driftwood was easily her size.

She was just glad that it was fairly early in the morning. Not a lot of people were out this early.

Not too many people would see her making a fool out of herself, trying to push something her size down the length of the beach.

As Anna pushed the log for whatever reason, a lump on the sand got closer and closer into view. At first it appeared to be another large piece of driftwood, or even a rock maybe. But as Anna got closer, she would have been able to see that it was a person, face down in the grainy sand.

The figure was obviously male, with a muscular build that wasn't too huge. Blond, messy hair covered the face and in the five degrees celsius weather, his clothes stuck to him like a second layer of skin from a cold sweat and the mist from the beach.

The figure looked to be dead, not moving a muscle. It wouldn't' be too horribly surprising, considering the amount of bodies that would turn up on this beach was higher than the national average. It was never pleasant though.

However on closer inspection, foul play didn't seem to be part of the picture. Empty scotch bottles surrounded the man's body, one even in his grip.

Anna didn't notice the lump until she was pretty close to it.

When she did notice it, it took a little while for what it actually was to click in her mind. "Oh God!"

The woman dashed forwards, dropping to her knees besides the person. The shells and rocks scraped against her bare knees, cutting into them in some places.

She pushed the body, rolling it so it laid on its back.

Her eyes blinked owlishly when she recognised the face. "Anton?" she whispered, shaking his shoulder and leaning forwards so her face was almost touching his. "Anton? Anton!"

Anton had been out cold, and his skin felt clammy when Anna touched him. But he was not dead, fortunately. He was breathing for one, but the biggest give away was the low groan that came rumbling from his throat as the woman shook his shoulders.

His eyes blinked open and he scrunched his face up as he tried to get his vision back in focus.

"Who...who the hell?" He muttered as a burp tried to come out of him at the same time, causing his voice to be extra low. He flopped his head back against the sad.

Relief flooded through her when he groaned and muttered lowly.

That relief manifested in a sharp slap against his chest. "What the Hell are you doing laying out here on the beach?" she demanded.

"You scared the Hell out of me!"

Relief wasn't an emotion that Anna was good at showing.

"Am I on private property?" He asked pugnaciously, narrowing his eyes as he regained focus on his vision.

He leaned up a little and kept staring her down, even though she was over the top of him.

He looked awful. Despite the fact that he was normally a handsome man, hardly a person on Earth would have thought so in that moment.

His beard was growing in an unkempt fashion, and the whites of his eyes were a dark pink color. He had dark circles and bags under his eyes, and his hair had gotten longer since the last time that Anna had seen him. He looked like a burnt up rock-star-wannabe.

"No."

The beach was public. Anyone could go whenever they wanted to.

But still...

"You look like shit," the woman said bluntly. She could hardly believe that this man was the hot man she had taken home with her not so long ago.

"Let's get you up."

"Man can't even enjoy a few bottles of scotch on the beach without some bitch making a deal out of it." He huffed.

He wished he could say that Anna looked like shit right back, but he couldn't.

"Hey who the hell are you anyway? Do I know you or something? If I owe you money you're just gonna have to wait because I don't have any cash on me." He placed his hand on his head and dug his fingers into his right temple, trying to alleviate the debilitating headache that was causing him to act so irritated.

Anna rested her hands on her hips and huffed.

"If you're going to be an asshole, I won't help you."

The woman stood and left the man behind as she trudged back the few feet in the sand to get to the piece of driftwood that she had abandoned to check on the man.

In a huff, she began shoving the piece of wood again, trying to pretend that Anton wasn't there right behind her.

"Oh so that's what you were trying to do! Help me!" He shouted, flopping back into the sand.

He stared at the morning sky, with the sun just rising and casting orange hues on the otherwise purple clouds.

He tried to will the headache away but that wasn't going over well at all. Reaching into his pockets, he searched for the bottle of aspirin he had been sure to bring along with him.

"Oh Jesus F. Christ." He grumbled as he realized he must have forgotten it.

"Hey sweet cheeks, as much as I like seeing a lady handle wood, can I bother you a moment to ask if you have any aspirin or any shit like that on you?" He gave her a cheeky grin.

Anna ignored him, grunting as she shoved the driftwood with her whole body weight, only managing to move it a few measly feet towards her beaten up old bus.

She'd been down here for hours and hadn't moved it much at all.

She wasn't doing too well.

But she was intent on ignoring him.

Anton stared at her ass a good long while. If she was going to ignore them then fine, whatever. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the view.

For some reason he found it ridiculously sexy that she was working herself so hard. He had never much cared for the sweet, docile, vulnerable women that tried so hard to attract men with their doe-like features. He preferred an opinionated ball-buster like Anna any day.

But of course he wasn't going to tell anyone that, especially not Anna.

"Hey wait a second, I know you don't I?" He said as he gained clarity with every passing minute. He definitely recognized her, but couldn't for the life of him remember how. He was horrible with things like this.

"Of course I know you, you know my name." He thought out loud, rolling his eyes. He sat up slowly, making sure not to cause his aching head anymore pain.

Once again she set to ignoring him.

If he couldn't even remember her after what she thought was a damned good night, then she wasn't going to be playing any games with him.

She shoved the wood hard, getting frustrated with the lack of movement.

Damn stupid wood.

Her hand slipped as she was shoving, scraping over the wood and cutting her hand on a chunk of wood that was sticking out. "Shit," she hissed, clutching at her hand.

Anton didn't understand women and their games.  Why was he being ignored?  

What if she really did have an aspirin and was just being a bitch?  Anger started to swell up in the man until he saw her slip and get cut.  It suddenly melted away and without thinking, he pulled off his shirt.  

When he had bought it, it was white, but now it was dirty from having slept outside all night.  So he figured to hell with it.  

"Here." He said, tossing it to her.  "Use that to stop the blood." He leaned back.  Maybe if he scratched her back she would scratch hi-....

THAT WAS IT.  

"Ohhh I remember now." He grinned evilly, as if he knew some deep dark secret instead of just knowing what they both knew.  

"You're that babe from the first night I..." He was going to say "got out of jail" but decided against that.  
"I got to town." He said, thinking fast.

Anna caught the shirt. "Thanks."

She hooked it in the crook of her elbow and began checking her hand for splinters. The stern expression that she had been sporting (that honestly looked like more of a pout) slipped as she focussed on cleaning her hand, revealing a little smile.

As she pressed the shirt to her hand, her eyes flickered up to him.

The upwards tilt of her lips seemed a tad dry as she cocked a brow upwards.

"Oh, you do remember me?"

Anton wasn't really sure why, but it made him feel better that she wasn't ignoring him anymore. What did he care anyway, right? But still it felt good to have her looking his way and giving him the time of day again.

"Of course I remember you, babe." He said, leaning back and supporting himself with his palms planted in the sand.

"It just took me a bit you know, I was waking up before. I wouldn't have been able to tell you my own damn address if you had asked. Anyway, how could I forget a woman with a body like yours?" He flirted shamelessly, flexing his abs a little as he did.

Despite being unkempt, he hadn't lost his athletic and slender frame yet.

Anna rolled her eyes and kicked sand in his direction, though the little grin on her face didn't fade much. The action was bashful. She flirted yes, but sometimes she couldn't believe that people flirted back. Especially as shamelessly as that.

Clutching the shirt tight in her bleeding hand, the woman turned back to the driftwood, shoving it with her shoulder to push it further up the beach.

"I have painkillers in the bus."

Anton quickly put his arm up to block any sand from hitting him the face. He chuckled a bit at the playful action and then decided now was a good time to stand up.

He took it slow, not entirely sure just how hungover he was. One could never be too careful. At least the sun wasn't blaring down on them yet.

Once he felt steady on his feet, he walked beside her and started to help her push the large piece of driftwood.

"So how've you been? Feels like it's been forever doesn't it?" He asked. With the both of them working on it, the driftwood started to move at a nice constant pace.

"I've been well."

Anna arched a brow and looked over him slowly, from his unkempt hair and beard, down over his bare torso, to his sand-covered jeans.

"Should I bother asking you if you've been well?" she asked dryly.

From his appearance, she could guess he probably wasn't doing too well.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked defensively.

Anna chuckled softly.

"Whatever you think it means," she replied softly.

Her hip bumped into his playfully as they neared the top of the beach and, with it, her beaten up old bus.

"You're not exactly looking at your peak, are you, babe?"

Anton sighed out a little. He must have really looked like shit. He wondered if she regretting taking him home.

Adjusting to life outside of prison hadn't been as easy as Anton had hoped. He couldn't get a decent paying job, and when he finally did get work, he found it to be demeaning and quit soon after.

He also found it increasingly hard to stay away from the bottle. It was an easy escape from reality and made him feel good for the moment.

Pride wasn't going to allow Anton to tell Anna that he currently didn't have a home and was either couchsurfing or living from his car.

Truth be told he wasn't sure what to say, so he ended up saying nothing, just kept helping her push this huge log for God knows what reason.

Ah, topic change!

"What are you doing out here?"

"Tap dancing with the gulls and crabs," she replied without missing a bit, with such a straight face that unless he had actually been listening to her words, it would sound like a perfectly normal response.

Once they got to the top of the beach, Anna pulled her keys out of the pocket of her sinfully short light wash denim jeans.

She went about unlocking the car, opening up the back so they could get the driftwood into it.

Anton stood back and ran his hand through his now shoulder-length hair as Anna got the back of the car unlocked.

"No really though, what do you want with this? You some kinda artist?" He asked, genuinely curious why someone would be going through this much trouble for a stinky piece of wood.

"I'm a carpenter," she replied, climbing up into the back of the bus to push aside all the crap littering the floor.

A lot of it was little bits of wood that had broken off other big bits that she had transported.

"Well, sorta."

Carpentry wasn't all she did.

The woman set down the bloodied shirt and made her way towards Anton and the piece of driftwood again.