i write occasionally...

“Ah.” You didn’t know what else to say, or which questions to ask.

The spear in your hand felt weirdly heavy. The blood stained the wood, and it smelled of metal. Are these the traits of death? Does death cloud itself in red? Does it smell of metal, or something else? Something sickly sweet?

When you die, will you bleed? Or will you pass in peace from old age? Will you die with Adam at the same time?

Adam had a sharp rock in his hand, with which he cut through to fur, skin, and fat. You wonder how you could sharpen the rock further. Maybe by gliding the edges along another rock? Shifting your weight on your legs, you looked into the sky.

“Should I make a fire? It is getting dark soon.” You asked Adam. It was getting hard to ignore the sounds, the smell, the sight, and you had to leave, had to get away.

“Yeah, sounds good. If you can, try making a frame out of sticks.” He seemed completely absorbed in his work.

You hummed and made your way to collect dry grass and sticks. Pebbles kept digging into your feet. With a sigh, you raised your foot behind your back, twisting around so you could grasp your ankle and look at your foot. Thankfully, nothing was stuck. You pressed your nails into the skin on your sole, and you realised that the skin had grown thicker.

Letting your foot down, you continued your gathering session. You returned to Adam with your arms filled with resources. The sun has started to set, and you feared that the meat would attract beasts. Animals with sharp teeth and wide claws lurked all around.

The deer was put apart into its components. A pile of meat, a pile of fat, tendons carefully separated and put away, laid out to dry. Bones were sorted by size, and organs were laid there in the order Adam had taken them out. Some were small, others were big and long, and you could swear they were pulsing.

Blood has spilled into the earth, staining it deep red. You wonder what truly separates you from that soil. Isn't that what you are made of? What makes you so special? That you can breathe and talk? Will the soil come alive in the night, will it be mature like you, or maybe small, a child, a babe?

You think you will have to bleed to have a babe. When you think about it, you can taste a phantom pain on your tongue. There will be blood, but the soil will not be of importance.

Adam was better than you at starting a fire. You have watched him many times, but he has a better grasp on the stones needed or how to roll the stick until the dry grass starts burning. What you were lacking was practical experience, so you might as well do your best.

You feel him look. Adam’s eyes burned more than your attempted fire does. There wasn’t even a spark or a lick of smoke.

“Move. I will do it.” Adam started moving towards you.

You felt your body tense up, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. “Show me how to do it.” You felt stupid asking; by this point, you should know.

“Why? You wanna take my job away from me?” There seemed to be an edge to his voice, something defensive raised.

You tilted your head in confusion, “No, no. I think it is important to share knowledge.”

Adam studied your face; you weren’t sure what he was looking for. His hands reached into his clothes. The fabric was dutifully wrapped around his hips, and he never took it off. He must have some sort of compartment hidden in there because he fished out rocks.

One of them was pretty, it sparkled and had a colour that reminded you of the sun. The other was simply a dark grey colour. There were some white spots, but other than that, it looked unremarkable. Easy to miss.

Adam squatted beside. He started talking about you needing to better look at the caves you like to sleep in, to carefully look at the rocks. If you hit those rocks together, at the right angle and with a needed edge, they would spark. Those sparks could easily catch dry leaves or grass on fire. You have to be careful, he warns, because an uncontrolled fire could burn down a whole forest. On the other hand, if you feed the fire too much, too fast, it could go out. Death by gluttony.

He didn’t let you try out how to start the fire, and you didn’t ask. Adam seemed happy that he was better than you at something. He was proud of his fire, and you were happy to warm your hands against the bright flames.

The worst part about the meat was how hungry it made you. When you looked at the red flesh, you felt nauseous, but something else was tugging at you. You would like to dig your teeth into the muscle and suck out the blood.

You watched Adam’s arm move as he forced a piece of meat onto a sharpened stick. His muscles tensed and stretched under his command, burying the blunt end of the stick into the ground. The meat hung over the flames, slowly cooking while the fat dripped onto the ground.

You wonder if Adam would scream if you bit him. Maybe he would be like the deer, easy to wrangle into submission. You doubt that, though. He would never go down without a proper fight. You could pull it off when he sleeps.

Throwing your leg over his torso, nuzzling your face into his neck. You have explored your own body, and you know the pulse is especially strong there. A vine runs along the side, supplying your body with energy. You would suck the energy right out of Adam’s body.

With a shudder, you yank yourself out of that world. You look around, trying to find the culprit for such a horrific idea, but you find no one to blame. There is no trace of Roo. Her words, her touch must’ve all left a trace. There is no other reason for you to think such horrific things. Right?

°🍎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You worked hard on the leather. It took time and error. You scraped it clean and then wondered if it would rot. Maybe it would get dry and brittle and break apart? Maybe you needed it to dry down, be hard? You couldn’t decide, simply because you have never done this before. Adam was as lost as you.

“You can always hunt another one.” He just shrugs his shoulders. A bone scraped along the animal hide, removing hair and fat.

He seems calmer these past days. You used to think that all the physical exercise would help him relax, but it was the mental tasks that were best for him. The less he thinks about his situation, the happier he gets.

And most of all, he enjoys being useful.

You weaved grass stands together, making a stable, thin rope. Lying out the finished leather, you poked holes into the skin with your bone. You slipped the rope through the holes, tying it all close together.

“Look! A bag!” You held your creation up to Adam with a smile. It was an oval shape, all sides neatly tied together, and a hole was left open. You made sure to make a long rope, which you could sling over your shoulder.

Adam glanced at it. “Looks good.” He grunted out. “You think we can preserve the meat somehow?”

“Maybe letting it dry?” You wonder out loud.

“Maybe.” Adam just echoed your words.

°🍎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

There was endless blue in front of you. The wind was cold, colder than in the grassland. Every breath felt fresh, crisp, a new experience that delighted you. The ground was different; softer and harder to walk on than dirt.

“Is this the end of the world?” You couldn't help but marvel at all this water. There was nothing on the horizon, but you had a feeling there was more land hiding behind the curve in the sky.

Adam didn’t answer your question. A rare smile pulled on his face, and he started running towards the water. Your eyes followed Adam, and carefully you made your way to the water.

“Fuck! It’s cold!” Adam walked into the water and quickly jumped out again. “Look! Fish and crabs!”

You came closer and saw something move under the surface of the water. “Oh, you think we can hunt them?”

“Of course, of course. We can hunt everything and anything. We are on top of the food chain.” Adam was very sure of that.

You didn’t feel on top of the food chain; you felt watched and leered at. You will crack, they all did. For a moment, you squeeze your eyes together, and the trees in your mind grow grow grow, and any voices you hear grow quiet.

Adam ventured back into the water, a grin on his face. “Maybe I can catch one with my hands.” He stood still, his knees up in water. You watched as Adam’s eyes were trained on the ground.

You saw the moment a fish came near, because Adam’s eyes lit up and he slammed himself into the water, hands first. He was kneeling, just as he was about to stand up again, when a wave crashed into him.

Gasping in shock, you watched as Adam disappeared for a moment, lost to the blue water. And as you were about to run into the ocean, he came back up, coughing and spluttering.

“This shit is salty as fuck!” He wiped water off his face while he made his way back to the beach.

You couldn’t help but laugh in relief.

Adam grumbled and glared at you, “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I had the damn fish, I swear. But I let go of it when the wave crashed into me.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Next time you will catch one.” You sat down in the sand, “I am just glad you’re alright. I was scared for a second.”

Adam shrugged his shoulders, “It’s just water.”

You looked up at Adam. “I like it here.”

His eyes met yours. Adam was very beautiful. His hair started to reach his shoulders, while his facial hair has grown unruly. “What don’t you like?” His voice seemed condescending, but you didn’t quite understand the question. What is so wrong about liking things?

Tilting your head up at him, he just sighed and looked towards the ocean. His clothes were dripping wet. “Maybe you should take it off?” You point to the fabric.

Adam’s face changed. Not in the way it usually does, when his eyes grow sharp, and his brows furrow and lines crease into the skin. Something red bloomed across his face, stretching across his cheeks to his ears and finally making its way down his chest.

“Shut up! Don’t say that.” The words practically fell out of his lips in a hurry. He quickly looked away from you, rubbing his neck.

“Why not? What is so bad about undressing? You might get sick if you run around in wet, cold clothes.” Your hand reached out, and your fingers wrapped around the waistband of his clothes. His skin was soft, your nails softly scratching against it.

Adam flinched as if your touch burned him. His big hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked it away from him. “Have you no shame?” His face just got more and more red, practically glowing.

You just blinked at him, “For what?”

“Your body.” He dropped your wrist and stepped a few steps away from you. “Your soul.”

Now you felt your face grow hot. You didn’t realise that your body and your soul were so shameful. Should you hide away? You left the leather up by the trees; you should really make some coverings for yourself.

Adam sat down, keeping a distance between you two. You pulled your legs close to your body, trying to be as small as possible.

°🍎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You don’t feel well. Your head hurts, you feel nauseous, and your lower stomach hurts. It has been brewing for days now, and you have a feeling deep down that this has been long overdue.

Maybe you are dying. Maybe this is it. You ate something wrong, or when you tripped and fell in the sand, you hurt yourself worse than you thought.

The fire was warm, talking in its own language. Eating away at the wood you had collected. Adam was slowly tying rocks to sticks, with ropes you weaved.

You had the leather wrapped around your body, covering you from chest to thigh. Adam didn’t comment on it much; you weren’t sure if you were glad or unhappy. His insults were the rare attention you got from him.

The sun had fully risen, and there wasn’t much to do for the day. The meat was slowly drying on strings, and you were surprised how the animals kept away. The fire had to constantly burn for that, but it is a small sacrifice to make.

And then you felt it. Blood started to slowly drip down your thighs. You sat up as fast as you could, scaring Adam in the process.

“What are you doing?” He seemed irritated, but his face softened. “Did you have a nightmare? I get it, I also—”

You just cut him off. “I have to go.” With that, you scrambled up, taking your bag with you.

“What? What the fuck?” Adam’s mouth dropped open. “Where are you going?”

“Away. Gathering things.” You felt ready to sprint away. “See you.” And then you left.

You made sure Adam wasn’t following after you. The more steps you took, the faster you started walking until your walking turned to running and then to sprinting.

You felt unsafe on the ground. Anything could lurk there. To the best of your ability, you climbed up a tree. You saw big cats pounce on their victims from above, and you really didn’t need that to happen to you.

The trunk was pressed against your back, while you kept your eyes trained forward. Carefully, you dipped your fingers in between your legs, and they emerged covered in blood.

You sobbed. Tears gathered in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. This is the first time you have cried, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

No matter how hard you tried to calm your breathing, the tears kept coming, and your body kept shaking. You didn’t feel in control of yourself, of your emotions.

What you wanted was contact. You wanted to be held and for someone to pet your head. Maybe some nice words. Some reassurance that you aren't actually dying.

You aren’t actually dying.

Oh, you were seriously sick of her. Your eyes snapped open, and you wiped the tears off your face. “Roo, leave me—”

But it wasn’t Roo. You wouldn’t even describe her as a person, as a human. She seemed more like a concept, something that has been sucked out and spit back up.

Do I sound like Roo? It is hard to tell the difference these days, where I start and where she ends.

Honestly, that is what you get for running away. You wanted to spare Adam the pain of seeing you dying, do something kind, but no. You immediately get punished with apparitions.

If you ignore her, she will go away.

I want to apologise. The soft, disembodied voice says.

You look away, eyes trained on the ground. Could you die if you fall from this height? Would it hurt more than your cramps, or less? Would you like it to hurt?

You have to bear the burden of my mistakes—of my sins. I am sorry. This bleeding, it will not last, but it will return. You are strong.

“I don’t wanna be strong.” You pressed your palms against your eyes.

Is he mean? He has always been weak to tears if that is any help—

What does she know? About pain, about the Adam she left behind? She lived in a paradise, with no fear, no hunger, no pain, no death. You do not wish to hear more of her, and so you blend her out.

Who knows if this is even her? Roo absorbed her. Roo might be using her as a cover, seeing through her eyes, speaking through her mouth. At the end, there is no one you can trust, and in a way that includes Adam.

When you removed your hands, you were alone again. You won’t die. You should feel relieved. Being alive is a privilege.

You modified your clothes into a two-piece. A loincloth that wrapped around your pubic area and a top. It was a lot of work to cut through the rough leather, but it was worth it. Into your loincloth, you stuffed moss to absorb and blood. You shoved some more into your bag, and then you made your way back to the camp.

The sun was high up, beating down on you. Half a day must’ve passed, and you spent that time crying, crafting, gathering, and some more crying.

You stepped towards the fire. Adam was pacing back and forth, his hands rubbing his jaw. Your feet got caught on a root, and you stumbled forward. Adam’s head snapped back, his hand reaching for a spear before realising it was just you.

Adam’s face twisted and morphed; from relief to frustration to something else you can’t quite put your fingers on. “Where were you?” Is all he hissed out.

And you swear, you meant to be strong and that you finished crying (for the day, at least). Adam’s tone just cut into your soft heart, and you just started sobbing again. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you just felt tired.

“Whoa—” You heard Adam walk over to you, but you didn’t see him. Your hands were covering your face. “Are you hurt?! What happened?” His hands gently lay on top of your shoulders, and it just made you cry harder.

You tried to step back, but Adam’s grip won’t let you. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why? Does it hurt? Where does it hurt?” His voice was dripping with concern. You wonder if it is real, or if he feels the need to act concerned so that you won’t run off again.

“You hurt me.” You finally choke out. Adam made some confused noises, which just frustrated you further. “You are so hurtful—”

“Fuck, no, I am not—” Adam attempted to deny it, to defend himself, to lie.

Your hands pushed against his chest, successfully making him stumble away from you. “You are being such an…” You search for a word, an insult, but come up empty. All you could do was move your hands around while stomping your foot into the ground.

Adam wasn’t scared off that quickly. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pushing you into his chest. Your cheek was pressed against his pecks. The hair was tickling your skin. “An asshole? Yeah, I got that a lot.” His hand brushed over your head. “Can you answer my question now? Did you get hurt?”

You just shrugged your shoulders. “I am bleeding.”

“Why? Want me to take a look?” Adam was about to step back, but you didn’t let him. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed him closer.

You quickly shook your head. “Because I am a woman.”

Adam seemed confused for a moment before realisation hit him. “Ah. Should’ve warned you, huh?” His fingers brushed over your wet cheek.

“Would’ve been nice.” You sniffle out.

Adam just hummed. He didn’t ask how you knew, and you prefer it that way. He kept his arms wrapped around you. At some point, he rested them on your waist, brushing up and down your soft skin.

He rested his chin on top of your head. “Why are you so small?” This sounded to you more like an inside question than something you should directly ask someone.

“I don't know.” You stood up on your tiptoes, pushing Adam’s chin up. “Am I tall now?”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh, “No. I doubt you will grow anymore.”

“Sad.”

Adam took your face into his hands, looking into your eyes. His thumb brushed away stray tears. “Enough crying. Cmon, we've got all this meat to eat! I even collected some berries. Check ‘em out for me, yeah?”

You nodded your head in agreement. “I will.” With that, you settled down by the fire.

“I can’t fucking believe it. They are so pretty, how can they be poisonous?” Adam wondered out loud, watching you throw the berries into the fire.

“Hm. Colour means danger?” You scratched your cheek. “Trying to scare you away from picking them.”

Adam scoffed, “Shouldn’t grow at picking height then? Have the plants about that?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Are plants capable of thinking? Interesting.”

“You know what I mean.” He waved his hand at you.

The days and weeks continue, with you and Adam falling into a comfortable rhythm. Most off your days were spent crafting. You realised that if you process tendons into sinew, you could made a bow. This helped you hunt from even further away.

With every step you take, you saw more and more of the world. Earth was truly a beautiful place, with different animals and plants surrounding you. The weather even changed, the more you walked. From flat, grass land to mountainous areas, you were able to experience it all.

Adam was working on an instrument. That is what he calls it at least. He saw those used by angles and he was trying to re make an instrument. He used a thighbone, and put some holes into it. It finally dried down enough for Adam to feel comfortable in using it.

“Behold!” Adam seemed proud of himself. “The flute.”

He held it up to his plush lips, and then he blew into it. The sound was shrill, loud and shrieking and you were sure any animal that was near just got scared away. “Adam!” You gasped out, quickly covering your ears.

“Damn. Okay, okay. Needs some adjusting, I got that.” The blade made off cobbles stone was back in his hand, ready to fix the notes. You just playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Hey, woman.” Adam looked at you.

“Hello, man.” You blinked up at him. You were trying to fix your bow, you snapped the string at your last hunt.

“What if we settle down here?” Adam raised his arm, gesturing around you two.

“Settle down?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

“You know. Build something permanent, so we can stay here. It is the perfect place. We have the ocean near, we have the forest right there, with that big ass river—”

“Well, what about food? Animals? Plants? We follow the animals, mostly and they never stay for long.” You doubted it would work out.

“We can just make ourselves the master over animals. We keep them and we tend to the ground and plant whatever we need.” It seems like he thought a lot over this.

“What is the benefit?” You liked seeing earth. You didn’t want to contain yourself to one space.

“The benefit is no more fucking walking. It sucks, we can carry so little! Imagine a house! Just for us.” Adam already seemed pretty convinced.

You just mumbled something incoherent under your breath. It didn’t really matter anyways, Adam was already focused on his flute. There wasn’t much you could say to convince Adam otherwise, once he has set his mind to something he will see it through.

[Reader]: you are such an ASSHOLE

[Reader]: 1!!!!! fucking year ago we got that save the date card and planned ur stupid tour around it

[Reader]: just so YOU dont show up

[Reader]: I am so fucking done with you

You wanted the messages to go from delivered to seen, but that never happens. At this point, you were glad to bite the bullet, sharing your marital problems with your sister, who could plan accordingly. So her big day was not ruined because of your idiot of a husband.

Your fingers swiped across the screen, and you decided to open Instagram. As you clicked on Adam’s account and then the account Lute runs for his band, you saw nothing. No new post, no new story, just silence.

Squinting your eyes at your phone, you switched your accounts. You went from your private, personal account to a burner one. This beauty was created when Adam first started to become hard to get hold of, and it always has come in handy. When you checked out the band account this time, you could see new stories which have been posted.

Asshole has been caught red-handed. With shaky fingers, you clicked on the post. The first few videos were normal, things you expect from a band who is on tour: different angles from a concert, reposts of things fans have posted, some cute fan art. Until you saw what was captioned as the After Party. Adam, in the middle of a group of beautiful girls. He was signing tits, alcohol was flowing and hands were all over him. As always, Adam was the heart of the party, to your dismay.

As quickly as you could, you turned your phone off. You slammed the screen down onto the table, making your mother jump. “Are you okay, love?” She carefully asked.

“I am fine.” You breathed out, trying to keep your bad mood to yourself.

She looked at your phone, then her eyes flickered to your wedding ring. “Where is Adam exactly?”

Abruptly, you stood up. Your chair scraped against the tile floor, a horrible screeching sound following. “I have to use the restroom.” You seethed out, grabbing your phone and walking away.

That nobody in your life likes Adam is not a secret. Your friends don’t get along with him, and your family straight up hates him. They all could agree that he wasn’t good enough for you. You could do so much better. Back when you were younger, you ignored them all. Adam was your dream guy! But as you sat on the toilet, trying to call Adam for the hundredth time, you realised that they might have been right.

For the first time, the thought of a divorce popped into your head.

Do I need to be separated first for a divorce in my state? You typed into your search engine, as tears brimmed in your eyes.

It is not like Adam went on tour and suddenly your whole marriage collapsed. It started slow, and if you looked back far enough, you realised that the foundation of your relationship was already fragile. The fact that the fame went straight to his head did not help.

You just felt sick, bloated and most of all exhausted. As you flushed the toilet, you left the cabin. Walking to the sink, you washed your hands. An older woman was leaning towards the mirror, re-applying her lipstick.

She threw you a glance. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You barked out, coming off as more mean than you intended to. You winced at yourself, putting your cold, wet hands against the back of your neck to force yourself to relax. “I am sorry. I am just tired.”

“It’s fine.” Then, she chuckled, “I was the exact same when I was pregnant, you know? Tired and irritated all the time.” She turned around and left the bathroom.

You gawked into the mirror, turning around to stare at yourself from every possible angle. What you thought was just some stress-related weight gain might just be something much more serious and, worst of all, binding.

When you walked back to your shared table, you waved a waiter down to return your champagne glass and bring you some soda.

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

That bastard actually got you pregnant. You were so so so mad. Of course, it happened when you changed birth control, and Adam was already balls deep inside you before you remembered the damn condom.

14 weeks pregnant, and worst of all, you can’t get the dumb father on the phone. For a moment you considered texting Lute to make Adam answer you, but that was just humiliating. Especially since you have done that a few times now. Lute and you don't have much in common outside of Adam, so all your text messages were about said man.

You didn’t want to send an email or text him that you were pregnant. You wanted to tell him face to face, or voice to voice. It should be personal, intimate, just between you two.

Through gritted teeth, you forced yourself to put your phone away. Whatever. You don’t even care about Adam anymore. All he does is eat your food, annoy you, and ignore you. You hate him, and you miss him more than anything.

You didn’t feel good today. Maybe one of your students sneezed into your face one too many times, but you felt weird. Feverish and sore. Getting up from the kitchen table, you left behind the exams and lesson plans you were working on, and made your way to your bedroom.

With a heavy sigh, you got ready for bed. As you crawled into your side of the bed, you stared at Adam’s pillow. You hadn’t touched it since he left. All you could do was press your face into your sheets and sob. You curled your legs up, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up, your first instinct was to clutch your stomach. At first, your sleepy mind assumed you just started your period. That would explain the cramps and wetness you felt in between your legs.

As your eyes fluttered shut again, because you just felt so tired, you remembered that you were pregnant. You were pregnant, and you had cramps, and you were bleeding. With a gasp, you forced yourself to sit up. You felt sluggish, as if you had been bled dry. Your head hurt, and your eyes struggled to focus. It did not help that it was dark. With shaky fingers, you felt for the bedside table, turning on your little light.

You pulled the blanket back, and were met with a horrific sight. So much blood outside of your body cannot be good. As you shifted on your mattress, you cringed at the wet, cold feeling on your skin. You held back a gag, rolling off of the ruined mattress.

Your whole nightgown was completely soaked in blood. You stared at yourself in the closet mirror, you looked straight out of a horror movie. Inhaling deeply, you focused on not passing out. Should you call the emergency hotline? No, your neighbourhood had a horrible response time. It would be faster to drive to the hospital.

If you drive like this, you would stain your car seat. You closed your eyes, you felt the whole room spin, and still, you breathed through it. Flexing your fingers, you opened your eyes and took off your nightgown. You simply let it drop to the floor, together with your underwear. When you got back, you would need to throw both articles of clothing away.

Carefully, you got dressed in new clothes. You stumbled to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, and opened up a pad. As you glued it to your underwear, you ignored any sort of blood and tissue matter stuck to your thighs.

Taking your phone, purse, and car keys, you left your house. Blood was smeared over the phone screen as you pulled up Adam’s contact. You clicked on the call button and pressed your phone against your ear. With every ring you were brought to tears, until you were sent to the mailbox. You quickly hung up and got into your car.

When you nearly passed out at the reception desk, they were quick to check you in. A lot of things were happening at once; ultrasound wands were pressed against your stomach as they took your blood at the same time. One thing was clear—you would lose the baby.

The doctor was as compassionate as someone who is overworked can be. “I know this has been a difficult experience.” She sighed heavily, “The ultrasound shows that there is still some tissue left in the uterus. I would recommend surgery, to safely remove said tissue. You have gone through significant bleeding, and the surgery would remove that tissue and stop the bleeding more quickly.”

“So an abortion? I would get an abortion?” You pressed your hand against your forehead, ready to just go home.

“Yes, but you are going through a spontaneous abortion. Right now. It is the medical term for miscarriage. You are at risk of infection and bleeding out if we do not intervene.” She pressed on, trying to keep her voice gentle.

“Yes, fine, whatever. Just get it out of me.” You felt defeated, as if you couldn't do anything right. You can’t keep your husband happy, you can’t carry a child.

The doctor relaxed, happy with your decision not to die. “I will schedule the surgery as soon as possible. I wish you a good recovery. The desk has been trying to get in contact with your husband.”

You mumbled under your breath, “Yeah, good luck.”

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

In a way, you felt lucky that this tragedy struck you a week before summer break. You took the whole week off, and just stayed in bed. Not in your bed—you haven’t entered the bedroom since that horrible day, but you stayed in the guest bedroom, which also functions as your office. As it turns out, you sleep best surrounded by papers, binders and books.

Adam hasn’t contacted you. You seriously wonder if he just wants you to die. So, for years he gets a free ride with you, you are stupid enough to support his career, and this is how he treats you when he finally is successful? Really?

You met Adam in college. Not because he went to college, but you were finishing up your bachelor's in education. Adam did hang around the college bars. He was only a year younger than you. He barely graduated high school, and from the little information you got, he was kicked out of his family home. It didn’t help that he also got dishonourably discharged from the military, causing his finances to quickly dry up.

He and his band played at bars you went to. That is the only reason you took him home. He was a hot guitar player. You were willing to sleep with him. You hooked up with him one time, and he never left! Before you realised it, you were suffering through your master's degree, and Adam proposed, and now you were here. Happily married, until his stupid music video blew up on YouTube, and now you were making appointments with divorce lawyers.

Of course, you just had to have a bleeding heart and take pity on Adam. If that wasn’t enough, you actually fell in love with him. You accepted that you would never be rich, with you as a teacher and Adam with his band. He did do some odd jobs here and there, but mostly he was just a house husband. Not even a good one, but he did know how to cook. You eloped with him instead of having a grand wedding, because of the cost and because of your family's dislike of Adam.

At least your parents helped with a down payment on a house, otherwise you would still be crammed into a one-bedroom apartment. Your lovely house, which you learned is considered a marital asset. Which you will have to split up with Adam. He really is just a leech, as your mother said. The good thing is, his band and those royalties are also considered marital assets. You could make a deal with him: you leave your hands off of his beloved band, and you get the house.

Or maybe you will sell the house. Split the profit and move back home. You haven’t told anyone about the miscarriage, or the divorce. You should, you know you should. For your own mental health, you should be talking to your parents, to your friends, have them support you. And they would, they would support you.

You just feel so ashamed, so humiliated. For years you defended Adam to everyone. How great he is, how nice, how he just acts like a dick, but he is actually just misunderstood. Yeah, as if.

The meeting with the lawyer was exhausting. You met with 3 separate lawyers before finally finding your shark. This is the guy you for sure want to represent you in a divorce. It took a few more appointments, and you finally held divorce papers in your hand.

It was hard to serve a guy who was on tour, constantly moving. That did not stop you from scanning the papers and sending an email to Adam. The fact that it was the mail address for his band, only there for cooperation inquiries, is something you just ignored. Just like Adam likes to ignore you.

You took off your wedding ring. It was a cheap thing, and always stained your finger green. There were deep scratches in the metal from all those years of constantly wearing it. Adam promised you that once his music career would finally take off, he would buy you a new ring. A nice one, that doesn’t stain or get all scratched up.

With a sigh, you left the ring on the kitchen table. You went into the bathroom and searched for your cleaning supplies. It was time to clean up the bedroom from the blood. And you had to throw out Adam’s things after all.

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

You were safely curled up in your new bed when you heard the floorboards creak. For a moment, you were pulled from your sleep. You felt your heart beat speed up as your hands landed on your stomach. No pain, no blood. You were safe.

Letting your eyes flutter shut, you tried to calm yourself. All you wanted was to sleep the summer break away. After that, Adam should finish his tour, and you could continue with the divorce proceedings.

There it was again, the floor creaking. This time it was closer. Much closer. You could hear breathing, and it wasn’t your own. Your whole body tensed up. You tried to keep up the act that you were asleep by keeping your breathing even.

A finger brushed over your head, tangled into your hair. Now you were seriously starting to freak out. Finally, you could force your body to act. You turned around, coming face to face with a huge shadow figure, and you screamed.

“Fuck! Shit! Shut up! Stop fucking screaming! It’s me!” Adam raised his own voice to make sure you heard him.

“What is wrong with you?!” You yelled at him, sitting up in your bed.

“Me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You have the fucking nerve to send those papers—” Adam finally turned on your bedside table light, showering the small room in a warm light.

“Get out.” You interrupted him. As much as you were happy to see him, you couldn’t forget all that he had done. Or what he didn’t do.

Adam narrowed his eyes at you. “I am not going any-fucking-where.” He raised his hand, your abandoned wedding ring in his hand. “Put it back on.”

You shook your head. “No. Adam, seriously get out. I am not feeling well—”

“Yeah, you are clearly fucking unwell if you think you can just leave. Give me your hand.” Adam held his own hand out. You could see him grow impatient.

“No.” You slid your hands under your blanket.

Adam deeply inhaled, pinching his nose. “You are seriously pissing me the fuck off. I have had a shitty flight, and an even shittier drive here. Now, you are throwing some tantrum because what? You don’t get fucked enough by me?” Adam seethed down at you. “Give me your fucking hand before I break your damn wrist.”

“What is wrong with you?” You have never felt scared of Adam before now.

“Alright, have it your fucking way.” Adam threw his leg over your stomach, straddling you.

“Woah!” Was all you got out before Adam forced your hand out.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist. His hold on you was painful. You succeeded in yanking his hand off of you, and Adam shifted his weight. He pressed his knee into your lower stomach, causing you to wheeze in pain.

Now, Adam had both of your wrists in his hand, pressing them together. “You are only hurting your fucking self.” He glared down at you. “This is all your own fault. Remember that.”

You attempted to free yourself, but it was useless. You were afraid that Adam would somehow damage your already stressed-out organs with the pressure he was putting on them. Technically, you were cleared by a doctor to continue as usual. It didn’t stop you from worrying, though. While you tried to wiggle your fingers to make it harder for him to put the ring back on, Adam was still able to slip it on.

Finally, he let go off you. You pushed him of of you, sliding your legs of the bed. You sat on the edge, ready to bolt, but Adam was quicker. He pulled you back by your nightgown, forcing you into his arms.

“Let me go!” You struggled against his grip. Usually, you enjoy Adam’s bigger and stronger body, but right now you hate him for it.

Adam grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. “I am never going to let go of you. Better accept it now.”

You tried to soften your voice. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Adam. We can get a peaceful divorce—”

He raised his free hand, ready to strike you. “I swear to God, woman, you better not mention that word around me before I seriously start hurting you.” Adam hissed out.

You flinched and closed your eyes. With a relieved sigh, you realised that the hit never came. “Why not?” You just felt defeated. Does he really have to torture you?

“Because you fucking vowed. You vowed to stay loyal, to stay with me through everything. You promised that in front of God. You can’t just leave me. That is not right. That is not how it fucking works. I won’t even let death do us apart. I will follow you into the fucking afterlife. Don’t you get it, baby? I love you.” Adam’s face finally relaxed at the last part, letting go of your face. He brushed his hands over your head, smoothing down your hair. “You are always so damn cute in your little nightgown.”

You slapped his hands away from you. “Don’t touch me.”

Adam went back to glare at you. “Go back to the bedroom. To our real bed.”

You thought of a mattress drowned in blood; no matter how much cleaner you used, you could not get rid of the smell. It did not matter how hard you tried—you could not sleep there. You kept waking up in the middle of the night. Phantom pain wrecked your body. You could only find rest here.

All you could do was whisper, “No. I can’t sleep there.”

Adam tilted his head, scanning your face. “Fuuuck. Fine. Go sleep here.” He slipped out of the bed and was quick to take off his clothes. His shirt and jeans were dropped onto the floor. Adam’s socks were quick to follow.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of his underwear, and you were quick to stop him. “If you take off your underwear, I will twist your dick off.”

Adam groaned dramatically. “You want me to die of a heat stroke? It is a million degrees outside.”

You pulled your blanket back over yourself, turning your back to Adam as you lay down. “You can always sleep in the other room.”

The mattress was already squeaking under Adam’s weight, as he pressed himself against your back. You scooted away from him, and he was quick to follow. “Stop moving before you fall off the bed.”

“Hope I fall off the bed and bash my head open.” You mumbled out.

Adam wrapped his arms around you and forced you into his arms. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” Adam sighed into your shoulder.

“Don’t talk to me.” You hissed out, trying to ignore Adam as you attempted to sleep.

When you woke up the next morning, it was from the heat. The AC had been broken since last year, and you hadn’t been able to afford the repair. Adam was supposed to fix it, but he kept putting it off till he went on tour, and you have suffered ever since.

It did not help that your husband was a walking, talking furnace. Adam was pressed against your back, his arms tightly wrapped around you. His nose nuzzled into the back of your head, and you could hear him snore straight into your ear. It made your skin crawl.

Quietly, you tried to get out of Adam’s arms. Just as you finally were able to sit at the edge of the bed, your feet touching the ground, you could feel the mattress shift.

“Where ya goin’?” Adam rasped out, voice heavy with sleep.

You stood up, brushing Adam’s hand off of your back. “I am running away.”

Honestly, you meant that as a joke. You were on your way to the bathroom, to splash some water on your face. A cheap attempt to cool down. Before you realised it, you heard Adam’s feet hit the ground, and you started running.

You burst through the door, as Adam was hot on your trail. The bathroom attached to the main bedroom was right across the hallway, and the safest bet. Sadly for you, you cannot enter your former room anymore without dry heaving.

With a deep inhale, you took a sharp left turn right before your closed bedroom door. You heard Adam slam against the wood, cursing under his laboured breaths. “Fuckin’ bitch!”

Luckily enough, the bathroom door was already open. You quickly entered, pushing the door shut and locking it. Adam drummed his fists against the door, “Open the fucking door! Where would you even run to, huh?!”

“Nowhere!” You gasped out, pressing your hand against your chest. You could feel your hearbeat drum against your sternum, in the same rhythm Adam was pounding against the door. “I was making a joke!”

Adam gave the door handle on last shake, before finally stopping. “You are not very fucking funny!” Then, a pause. His voice was more even now, coated in the softness you are more used to. “C’mon, baby, unlock the door. You know I don’t like when we are being kept apart.”

“Can I pee in peace?” You sighed out. He really acted like there was some sort of horrible distance between you two.

“…Hurry.” He grumbled out.

As you finished your business and washed your hands, you were happy to have something to cool you down. Once your hands were clean, you made sure to press your wet, cold hands against your face. After you dried your hands, you slowly unlocked the door and opened it.

Adam was leaning against the door frame. As soon as you stepped into the hallway, he was already invading your personal space.

You pressed your elbow into his stomach, trying to keep distance between you two. “Stay away. You are too warm.”

“You mean hot, babe.” Adam grinned down at you. “We haven’t seen each other in sooo long, and you won’t even give your husband a hug.” You walked past him, towards the kitchen. “Or a kiss.” Adam continued talking as he trailed after you. “Or a blowjob.”

It took a lot of self-control not to turn around and slap him. You wish you would, but that is simply not who you are as a person. After the night you had with Adam, you are tired of any sort of violence. So, you just ignored him.

Without acknowledging Adam, you pulled out a bowl, setting it down on a counter. Adam was never far away from you as you got out milk and cereal. When you turned your head, he was right there. His fingers started to drum on different surfaces in the room.

You just sat down at the table to eat. Adam was right behind you. He bent his body forward, resting his hands on the table, trapping you right in between his big arms. You could feel his lips brush over your ear, and you suppressed a shudder.

His face was right beside yours, and you turned your head slightly to look at him. Adam’s eyes were burning into you, tracing over your features. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forward and—

Adam’s lips hit your cheek as you turned your face away from him. He cursed you under his breath, and you saw his hands flex. “Fine. Have it your fucking way.” Finally, he freed you of this man-made cage and sat down in the chair beside yours.

All you could hear was the kitchen clock tick as you chewed on your breakfast. Adam didn’t deal well with silence, so he was quick to distract himself. His hands reached out and ruffled through your paperwork that was splayed out on the table. Usually, you kept it all neat and tidy in your office, but with Adam gone, you had developed a bad habit of just dumping it all out on the wooden table.

Adam looked at a drawing a student gifted to you, a smile on his face. He put that to the side and started rummaging around more.

“Don’t touch that. It is confidential.” You warned Adam as he picked up a stapled stack of papers.

Adam threw you a glare. “What are you hiding, huh? That from your stupid ass lawyer?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. That is a CPS report I had to make. Don't read it, you won’t like it.” Adam was sensitive to any sort of mistreatment of children, one of the many things in his past he simply does not speak about.

Adam stared into your eyes, probably looking for a lie he can’t find. Still, his paranoia got the best of him, and he started reading the first page. As quickly as he picked it up, he was fast to drop the report on the table. A frown was on his face, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Told you.” You stood up, putting your dishes in the dishwasher.

“Can you put your gross papers where they belong? Not in the fucking kitchen where I eat?” When you stood up, so did Adam. He waited for you to make the next move.

You just shrugged your shoulders, back to ignoring Adam. He followed you into the living room. While you lay down on the sofa, Adam was quick to sit down beside you and put your legs into his lap.

“Can you fix the AC?” You decided to ask. The sweat running down your body was evil. Adam was only unbothered because he only wore his boxer shorts.

Adam’s warm hands rubbed over your bare legs, gliding dangerously close to your thighs. “Tomorrow.”

“Ugh!” You sat up. “Where is my phone? I will just call someone.”

“Why would you waste money when I am right here?” Adam asked, clearly offended.

“I just asked you, and you said no.” You argued back.

“I didn’t say fucking no, don’t lie on my good name! I said tomorrow.” He squeezed your knee.

“Adam, you said you would fix the AC tomorrow last year. If now isn’t tomorrow, I don’t know when is.” You forced yourself to breathe and to relax. There rarely is any use in fighting with Adam. When you get angry, he just gets even angrier. “Honestly, I would prefer to call someone. I do not want you to break it, or get electrocuted—”

“Fuck, woman! Enough, I will fix that stupid thing.” Adam threw your legs off of his lap, standing up. He made his way to the bedroom to get dressed.

When Adam walked past you on his way to the garage to get his tools, dressed in shorts and a white wife-beater tank top (the irony was not lost on you), you called after him, “Can you grab the mail while you are at it?”

You got a grunt as confirmation. While Adam was finally fixing the AC, you should probably take a shower. Get out of your nightgown and into real clothes. You got up from the sofa and made your way to your bedroom. When you cleaned up your former bedroom, you made sure to take a huge chunk of your clothes with you. After that, you haven’t been able to re-enter it.

Entering the bathroom with a handful of clean clothes, you locked the door, took off your clothes and stepped into the shower bath. You made sure to keep the water temperature cold, lathering yourself in soap.

Adam was slightly embarrassed that fixing the AC only took him around 20 minutes. But then he remembered how last year you would wear skimpy tops and shorts to cope with the summer heat, and he suddenly didn't feel as guilty anymore. That sight was totally worth it.

As he opened your mailbox and took out a few letters, he made his way back into the home. Just as he felt his heart speed up at seeing you gone, he heard the shower running. Adam sighed, throwing the envelopes onto the already paper-packed kitchen table.

He sat down on a chair, spreading his legs as he looked through the letters. Adam raised his eyebrow at a fan letter. Those usually don’t get directly to him—Lute set up a separate mailbox for fan letters and gifts. She sorts through them for him and responds to those.

Adam ripped the envelope open, squinting his eyes at the writing. He has always struggled with reading, and the cursive didn’t help him.

“Blablabla, in love with me and my huge cock. Tell me something new. Want to be my wife? As fucking if.” Adam crumpled the paper up, leaning back in the chair and threw the paper ball into the trash. “10 points to Adam!” He cheered, as he succeeded in hitting the trash can.

He went back to sorting through the letters. Adam raised an eyebrow at a letter from the hospital. What the fuck? He fished out the paper and unfolded it carefully. It were discharge papers and an invoice. His eyes flew over your personal details. Everything was in order there.

Diagnosis: Spontaneous Abortion

Operation & Procedures: Vacuum aspiration abortion

“Oh, she has to be fucking with me.” Adam slammed his hand down, making his way to the bathroom with the letter.

You got soap in your eye. It took you a hot minute to clean out your eye. Just as your vision finally stopped being blurry, you heard a slam. Confused, you pulled back the curtain slightly. The door shook and the flimsy wood bent under the pressure of whatever was behind it.

With a sickening crack, the lock broke open. The wood splintered and Adam stepped through the doorframe. He held a paper in his hand, but without your glasses you could not make out any letters.

“Adam?!” You yelped out. Your heart beat spiked immediately at seeing his face. Never before had you seen Adam look like that—his usually shining eyes were empty, while there was a scowl on his face.

He didn’t answer you. His hand reached out and buried itself in your wet hair. And then, he yanked you towards him. You couldn’t decide what hurt more, your scalp or your knees from hitting the edge of the marble. Adam continued his tugging, forcing you out of the bathtub. Your knees hit the tile floor, and you continued to slip around as Adam forced you to kneel in front of him. His grip never faltered.

Adam roughly pulled your head back by your hair. Was he trying to rip your scalp off? You were dripping wet with water and felt cold. As you opened your mouth to scream from the stress and pain, Adam was quick to shut you up. He shushed you roughly, and finally he spoke. “Are you fucking stupid? Did you really think you could keep that from me, huh?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your brain trying to make sense of this situation. “What—”

“What, what.” Adam mocked your panicked voice, even your sharp inhale. “You know what. I got it on paper, you dumb cunt.”

You let your eyes flutter open, trying to get a glance at the paper he mentioned. Adam simply slapped the piece of paper against your wet forehead. It stuck to your skin, and in an attempt to free yourself, you wrapped your hands around Adam’s wrist to tug him off. It didn’t work, but you moved enough for the paper to drop into your lap.

While you hurriedly read through the paper, you quickly realised what Adam meant. “You mean my—”

“Yes, your abortion. Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Aborting my child? For what? What have I ever done to you to deserve that? You are a killer.” Adam’s voice was shaking.

You saw him raise his hand. This time he would for sure hit you, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you screamed out your defence, “Miscarriage! It was a miscarriage! Spontaneous abortion? That is the medical term for miscarriage!” The hit never came.

“You are fucking lying.” Adam glared down at you.

“I am not! Adam, please.” You sobbed out, as tears gathered in your eyes. “I was 14 weeks pregnant! Our state doesn’t even allow abortion past, like, 10 weeks!”

Finally, Adam’s grip on your hair loosened. “Fuck.” Your arguments rolled around in his head, as his eyes flickered over the discharge papers. “What do you think I should do with you when I find out you are lying?”

You just felt defeated. The feeling settled over you like a cold blanket. “Just kill me. Now. The pain and fear you think you can punish me with will never match what I felt when I bled out alone in our bed. Why didn’t you answer my calls? Whether mine or the hospitals? Where the fuck were you while we needed you?” Finally, you slapped Adam’s hand off of you. “What kind of man even are you, when you can’t even take care of your family?”

Adam joined you on the floor as he cooed at you. His whole demeanour changed, like a switch flipped. He pulled you in between his spread legs, hands soothing over your body. You were sure his clothes were getting soaked.

“Aww, my baby.” Adam cooed at you. “Poor thing.”

Your back was pressed into his chest, and you tried to get away from him. Adam wouldn’t let you. He didn’t seem bothered by your struggle. He just continued to coo at you, as if you were some scared pet he needed to console.

“Let me go!” You got away a few inches, but were quickly pulled back into Adam’s arms.

“Shh, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into your shoulder, deeply inhaling your fresh scent.

You cursed under your breath. Your body trembled against Adam’s. The fighting was sucking up your energy. Adam pressed a kiss against your shoulder. With a horrified gasp, you felt Adam’s hard cock press against your lower back. He truly disgusted you.

His hands landed on your hips, fingers massaging the flesh. “How about we try for another one?” You felt your stomach turn at his words. Successfully, you shoved Adam’s hands away. He sighed, as if you were just a little annoyance. “C’mon, an orgasm can help with that hysteria you clearly suffer from.”

You inhaled deeply, as you realised you might have to play dirty to get away from him. Turning around in his grasp, you faced your husband. He grinned at you, putting his hands back on your waist.

Shakily, you took his face into your left hand. Adam leaned into your touch, a love-struck smile on his stupid face. You brushed your thumb over his cheek, and Adam let his eyes flutter shut. Raising your right hand, you were quick to punch Adam’s nose.

His eyes snapped open, hands flying to hold his bleeding nose. You shook out your fist as you stood up on shaky legs. Running towards the open door, you felt yourself slip on your own puddle of water, but you kept going.

“Motherfucking cunt!” Adam seethed.

You ran into your bedroom, closing the door. There was no lock on the door, but you learned now that does not keep Adam away. As fast as you could, you put on some panties, and with that a dress.

Adam walked through the hallway, and you could hear his heavy steps. You tensed your muscles as you heard him open a door, but it was not yours. He must be going to the old bedroom.

He was walking towards you. You couldn’t tell if sweat or water was running down your back. The door opened, and you stepped behind the bed to put as much distance between you and Adam as possible.

Adam pressed a tissue against his bleeding nose, which he must’ve grabbed from the room. You glanced behind Adam, into what was once your sanctuary. There you could directly look at the bed. He must’ve pulled back the sheets, because the mattress was completely visible.

You had to beat down a gag at seeing the huge blood stain.

“What was it again? Good or bad to lean your head back during a nosebleed?” Adam asked, sitting down on the bed.

You stepped around the bed, eyeing the door. Adam simply stretched his leg out and slammed the door shut. Why does he have to be so tall?

He spread his legs apart. “Can you fucking answer me? Shouldn’t you know this for your students?”

Your shoulders dropped as you sighed. “…Don’t lean your head back, or the blood could run down your throat.”

Adam grunted, bending his head down. “Thanks, baby. Would be swallowing blood without you around.”

You watched him wipe his nose with the tissue. He sniffled, and with another wipe there was barely any blood left. Biting down on your lip, Adam seemed distracted.

Bolting towards the door, just as your hand wrapped around the door handle, Adam wrapped his arm around your stomach and pulled you back. He picked you up and dropped you on the bed.

You tried to roll away, but Adam pressed your wrists beside your head. His legs straddled your own, keeping you immobile.

“Can you stop running away for one second?” Adam rolled his eyes. “Where would you even fucking run to?”

Shaking your head, you objected. “Let me leave.”

“Never. I will never let you fucking leave. Get that into your stubborn head.” Adam’s tongue glided over his lips. “Give me a kiss, baby. So we can make up and move past this bullshit.”

“No. I don’t want to stay with you if you keep hurting me.” You whimpered out, blinking up your teary eyes at Adam.

Adam let go of your wrists and sat up. He made sure not to put any of his weight onto your body. “Don’t be so dramatic. In all these years, have I ever hurt you? Will you throw away our whole marriage over one bad day? What kind of wife are you?”

You wiped away tears. “What about you? What kind of husband are you? You promised, Adam, to care for me and protect me! All I got was neglected—why did you not respond to my fucking texts and calls?!”

“I obviously never got any of the fucking calls! Fuck! You don’t think I would’ve rushed the fuck home if I knew you were in the hospital?” Adam’s hands were flailing around. Then, he let himself drop down beside you, having you both lie down side by side.

“…And you didn’t come to my sister's wedding.” You decided to just drop everything that has bothered you on him.

Adam furrowed his brows, “You texted me I don’t have to come to that.”

That made you whip your head around to glare at Adam, “You asshole. Why the fuck would I do that? Why would we plan your stupid tour around her wedding, just so you don’t turn up?! And you call me a liar…”

“How should I fucking know?! You tell me to not come, I don’t fucking come!” Adam turned around, lying on his side, his head propped up in his hand.

“I didn’t—” You suddenly sat up. “Give me your phone. Show me that text.”

Adam sighed. While your phone was still on your bedside table, plugged in, Adam had to get up and search the room for it. Finally, he found it in his pants pockets. The pants he abandoned on the floor when he got undressed for bed.

He threw himself back into bed, throwing a leg over your own. You watched him tap around, before finally showing a chat. That was your contact, and you clearly told Adam he didn’t need to come to the wedding.

You took his phone into your hands. “I didn’t text that.”

“What? That is our chat? Who else would it fucking be?” Adam scratched his stubbly chin.

Curiosity took over you, and you continued to scroll down the chat. None of these texts matched with your own. Where is you cursing Adam out? But what was creepy was that those texts sound exactly like you. The emojis match, the language, the words you always seem to misspell.

You exited the chat and went to Adam’s call log. Nowhere could you find the calls you made to him. He rested his head against your shoulder, completely unbothered by you snooping around.

Thrusting his phone back into his hands, you instructed him to keep it unlocked. Turning around, you got your own phone. When you unlocked it, you showed him your chat with him.

“It doesn’t match! Look!” You scrolled up, showing Adam how you were left on delivered.

Adam furrowed his brows and scrolled through the chat on his own phone. “Damn.”

“The calls too!” You swiped up your own call log and showed Adam the amount of calls you made to him.

“That’s crazy. You think it is glitching or something?” Adam wondered, his tongue sticking out as he checked through the call logs with you.

“Show me my contact.” You reached your hand out and tipped around on Adam’s phone. As you opened your contact, your eyes scanned over the phone number. “That is not my phone number!”

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” Adam groaned. “No fucking wayyy.”

“Are you cheating on me?” You blurted out the question.

That made Adam jolt up. “What the fuck?! No! Don’t ask me stupid shit like that. Damn.” Adam rubbed his forehead.

“No, it makes sense.” You slammed Adam’s phone down on the mattress. “You blocked my number everywhere—even blocked me from your social media accounts—and you changed my contact number to cover it up!”

“I didn’t! Why would I do that?!” Adam grasped your face into his hands and made you face him. “Baby, it’s me. I would never cheat on you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

“Yeah, but you would let other women touch and flirt with you while you sign their tits.” You pushed his hands away. “That is cheating!”

“I was just doing my job!” Adam defended himself. “I don’t tell you not to speak to any of these slimy dads who eye you up!”

“You do tell me that! All the time! You are a hypocrite.” You let yourself fall back on the mattress. “How mad would you get if I mention the D-word?”

“Very fucking mad.” Adam brushed a lock out of your face. “Baby, it probably was just some eager fan who got on my phone. We have a few groupies who follow us around on tour.”

“It’s creepy, Adam. The texts sound exactly like me.” You rubbed your hands over your face. It would be one thing if those texts were obviously from someone else, but they copied you.

Adam picked up his phone again and looked through his blocked contacts. Finally, your number was freed. He created another contact for you, naming you ‘Wifey’. He blocked the other number that pretended to be you.

“Text me,” Adam told you, glancing at your screen. With a sigh, you did.

[Reader]: divorce?

The message quickly changed to seen.

Adam yanked your phone out of your hands. “The only ‘D’ you are getting is this dick.”

“Ugh.” You tried to turn away from Adam, but he just trapped you into his arms once again. “Let me go.”

“Shhh, baby.” Adam shushed you, brushing his hand over your face. “Go sleep.”

“It is barely 1PM—”

“Nap time, sweet thing.” Adam just doubled down.

With a sigh, you gave up. You kept lying on your side while Adam quickly drifted off to sleep. You couldn’t help but stare into your old room. Your eyes were stuck on that blood stain, on full display since Adam stripped the bed naked.

For a moment, you felt your lower stomach cramp up. You pressed your hands against your skin, keeping yourself grounded. You are safe. Your eyes flickered from the blood stain to the window.

“So, like, thanks for telling me what the fuck AI is, totally did not have to look up that shit myself. You are a real educator, babe. Anyways, my pictures are so real. No computer generated them, I am the only photo machine around here. Also, Heaven is always around 10 fucking years late in human technology. Do you know how hard it is to pick up chicks, when they come up here with a whole ass new vocabulary? It is not a problem for me, though, because I am fucking dedicated to the cause: the cause to fuck bitches…What was the topic again?”

His voice actually sounded nice. That made you shudder in disgust at yourself. Either he is really committed to the bit, he is committed somewhere or—

Well, he could not be telling the truth. That would be crazy. But you did try to reverse image search his picture, and found nothing. No tell of manipulation, or something AI generated. It looked real, and that scared you. Maybe it was your sickness, making you more gullible and naive.

For a split second you considered telling him to send more voice messages, his rambling was weirdly charming. While the voice message stopped playing, it did not stop Adam from continuously texting you.

[ +1 ] : also the chick i wanted to text texted me

[ +1 ] : deadass you two have the same exact number

[ +1 ] : like i texted her thinking ti was you but it was just her!!!!!!!

[ +1 ] : she blocked me lol

[ +1 ] : but i still motor boated those tits so who is the real winner here

[ +1 ] : i talked to some nerdy IT guy and he said it could technically happen that a connection gets made to earth

[ +1 ] : apparently some people even get chats connected to hell but those get shut down fast

[ +1 ] : fuck hell those bitches should just be nuked

[ Reader] : I feel like you don't need me in this chat. You are pretty good at having a conversation with yourself.

[ +1 ] : you are back :D

[ +1 ] : send pics

[ +1 ] : it is panty tuesday

It was in fact not Tuesday. You wonder what kind of calender he follows, or what the time difference is between you two. You did mean to send a response, really, but another wave of nausea hit you.

Putting your phone down, you watched the ceiling spin. All you could do was press your palms against your eyes, and breathe through this episode. A knock on the door made you simply whine as a response.

Your Brother opened the door, “Hey. I have tea.” He carefully balanced a tray in both off his hands, kicking open your door with his foot. You could hear him step closer, and set down the tray.

You removed your hands to look at the tray, and you saw the cup of tea together with plain toast. “I can't eat.”

“You have to.” Your Brother simply said, as if it was that easy.

“Are Mom and Dad home?” You asked, as you carefully sat up.

“No, both are at work. I have to make you eat, or else they said they are calling a doctor.” He took the toast into his hands, and started making plane noises, “Here comes the air plane!” He teased, flying the piece of bread towards your mouth. You did not open your mouth, and crumbs landed on your blanket.

“A doctor? Really? What is she going to do?” You scoffed, dragging a hand over your lower face.

“Help your alien looking bald head.” Your brother rolled his eyes, not in the mood for any negativity.

You gasped in shock, and then kicked your Brother in his side. Sadly, your muscles and bones were on strike, and you ended up hurting yourself more than you hurt him. “Ouch!” You whined out, “Why would you hurt me?”

Your Brother spluttered, “Hurt you? Dude, don’t kick me. Can you please eat and drink something so you don’t pass away while you are at home alone with me? Mom will somehow spin it in such a way that I killed you indirectly.”

You laughed, which might hurt your stomach and ribs, but you ignored the pain. “I have an idea. Keep an open mind, though, and know that you would help me cross things off of my bucket list.”

“Whatcha need?” He asked, putting the toast back on the tray.

“Weed helps against nausea. Let’s get edibles, or something.” You smiled, trying to seem extra miserable so he would follow your every whim.

Your Brother seemed to be lost in thought, “Yeah, wait. I will be right back.” He left your room, and you could hear his steps through out the hallway.

As you waited for his return, you tried to take a bit out of the toast. You were able to swallow a tiny bit, your stomach churning in protest, but you pushed through. To calm your stomach, which might be acting up from your lack of food, you took sips of the tea. It didn’t help.

Your Brother came back, and threw a little package towards you. “I got these when I was sleeping over at Friend’s house. I got such bad cravings for anything. You will hopefully eat again.”

You opened the bag, and saw gummies. “How much should I take?”

Your brother crawled into the empty spot in your bed. “One. Maybe two. Give me the package when you are done, yeah?”

As you shoved three of the sweets into your mouth, you felt spit collect under your tongue. You seriously didn’t want to throw up now. As quickly as you could, you swallowed them down. Reaching out, you washed it down with tea. You handled the package to your brother, who ate the last 5 pieces.

“You want to sleep?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. You can watch something, if you want.” You curled up under your blanket, ready to let restless dreams burglarise your mind.

⁺‧₊⊹𓌹𓉸ྀི𓌺⊹₊‧⁺

When you woke up, you felt like a blanket has been dropped over your mind. The pain that usually bothers you has been muted to a buzz. Your mouth did feel dry.

Most importantly—you actually felt hungry.

Your hand slapped against your Brother’s face, who sleepily groaned. “Let’s order food.” You mumbled out, slowly sitting up in your bed.

“Oh yeah, let’s pig out.” Your Brother agreed easily.

For the first time in a long time you made your way to the living room, without needing to take a break because you were in so much pain. You curled up on the sofa with your Brother, and you pulled out your phone so you both could order food.

Shoving food into your mouth felt like a heavenly experience while high. It was greasy and you couldn’t stop yourself from ordering from different places.

Since you were dying, and practically own nothing considered you were still young, you took out a shit ton of credit cards. Yeah, you might be in credit card debt, but you would die happy. You donate part of the money, the rest you usually spend on your friends and family. This would only make you problems if some miracle happens and you get healed.

You would prefer a life in debt than no life at all.

Of course, it seems like God has a personal vendetta against you. Otherwise, you would not keep getting sick like this. Your own body seems to wage a war against you, destined to make you miserable and keep you from experiencing the world.

Even your Family wasn’t spared from this. When you were sick as a child your parents fussed over you, same as when you were a teenager. Your Brother was younger than you, and he graduated high school not too long ago. He took a gap year, and it was clear he did that so he could take care of you during the day. Your parents still had to work, life still continues, even when you will die one day.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, you leaned forward and put your head in between your knees. “I feel sick.”

Your brother just laughed at you. “I saw how you took three, instead of two. Greedy. You feel like throwing up?”

Just as you were about to respond, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. With a sigh, you got up and walked to the bathroom. You checked your notifications, and who would've thought? Adam was texting you.

[ +1 ] : no pics. no messages

[ +1 ] : might as well go fuck myself huh

[Reader] : Your words, not mine.

[ +1 ] : !!!!!!!!!!!

[ +1 ] : >:O

[ +1 ] : who fcking raised u fr

[Reader] : lol

[ +1 ] : whatcha up to

[ +1 ] : ever send nudes?

[Reader] : No. It will be one of the many things I will miss out on. What a shame.

[ +1 ] : what else u missed out on

[ +1 ] : popping that 🍒?

[ +1 ] : how old are u?? if u come to heaven i can show u a good time

You let the keyboard pop up and disappear, fighting with yourself. Tears burned in your eyes, and you took a deep breathe. What use was there in sharing your health issues with Adam? But what would you lose? Make yourself more vulnerable? You can always just block his stupid ass,

[Reader] : We will probably see each other soon in Heaven,

[Reader] : If I don’t go to hell haha

[Reader] : I am in my twenties, and very sick. Currently in hospice.

[ +1 ] : shit my bad

[ +1 ] : also dont joke about hell

[ +1 ] : wed also see each other in hell lmaooo

[Reader] : Can’t believe you are everywhere. Heaven, Hell, Earth.

[ +1 ] : 😎

[ +1 ] : i need all the realms for my huge dick n balls u know

[ +1 ] : its a real curse

[ +1 ] : every heard of hyperspermia???? thats how i populated earth

[ +1 ] : but now i need to get drained regualry by bad bitches

The idiot actually got a smile out of you. Biting down on your lips, your fingers flew over your keyboard. Your face burned.

[Reader] : If you want me to feel better, send more voice notes.

[ +1 ] : YEAH

[ +1 ] : baby, anything you want

[ +1 ] : i can send one rn while im jerking off

[Reader] : I am blocking you.

[ +1 ] : FUUUUUUCK DONT

[ +1 ] : i will be good

Your hands quickly palm your body all over, checking for any visible injuries. You have all your limbs; your fingers and toes are intact, and the dull pain you now notice in various places is bearable.

Most importantly, you are alive.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” Came Adam’s voice. A stick in hand, he sits by a bonfire that is set up between you two, just poking around—visibly bored out of his mind.

There are a few bruises on his arms and a trail of dried blood around his nose, but other than that, he looks… fine? As fine as one could be after a freaking plane crash.

“What happened?” You wince and reach towards the right side of your head. Your memory is spotty to say the least.

“Did you hit your head? The fucking plane crashed.” Adam rolls his eyes before pointing his finger behind you.

When you turn around, you see the plane, or what was left of it. It crashed near the beach—where even are you?—and it looked absolutely horrifying. Seeing such a huge metal contraption destroyed, torn in half and smashed up as if it were a mere can of soda was a terrifying sight for sure.

The other survivors have gathered in little groups as well. Some are sitting around their own fire while others just stand around, lost. A bit further away, you notice a pile of what looks like wet clothes spilling out of the passengers' luggage, but when you squint your eyes, you realise that the wetness isn't from the water—the fabrics are saturated with blood.

With a sharp intake of breath, you quickly turn back towards the fire. “I don’t even remember the crash.”

“Shit, I got the same stupid amnesia.” Adam glares at the flames. “I don’t fucking like this. I have never forgotten anything in my life.”

All you can do is shrug, “Lots of reasons to forget a traumatic event.”

He side-eyes you, “Maybe for you women, but me, a man—”

“Are you incapable of having a normal conversation?” You finally snap at him. The sun is blazing down on you; you are thirsty, aching all over, confused and most likely concussed as well, and Adam just can't drop his exhausting demeanour even for a moment.

“Me?” He points at himself with the tip of his burning stick. “Bitch, you are the one interrupting me. Were you raised by wolves—or worse, atheists?”

“Were you raised in some Christian cult?” You counter him with a question of your own instead, now genuinely wondering.

“Define cult—”

“Okay. Enough.” You wave your hand at him. This is getting you nowhere, just raising your blood pressure.

He frowns and pouts, mumbling something along the lines of how you got some audacity instead of tits, but you straight-up ignore him. You simply continue looking around.

It seems like you two are way further away from everyone else. You can still see other passengers, but you think they might have a hard time keeping an eye on Adam and you. Apart from the pile of metal scraps that once held a likeness of a plane, your back is guarded by steep cliffs. Nobody and nothing could sneak up on you here, even from the dense forest on your right.

Finally, you notice that you have been sitting on some type of makeshift mat, made out of clothes and leaves. Adam also has one, yet, for some reason, he chooses to squat in the sand over it.

“Why are we so far away from the others?” You blurt out, unable to stay quiet.

His tongue pokes out, “You wanna be around strangers in a survival situation?”

“You are a stranger too.”

“ ‘m a good stranger. I am not some thief or killer.”

Truthfully, that wasn’t even a possibility you considered. Not in this situation, at least, where teamwork is really important for everyone's survival. But even if Adam is not outright dangerous, that doesn't mean he isn't a secret third thing, “Because you're a pervert?”

Adam glares at you, “You can fucking go if you want. I could have left your pathetic ass behind—I am the guy you want to have around.”

You sigh, “Why would I leave the guy who makes me a bed, a fire and carries me around?”

“Yeah, ex-fucking-actly—why are you making me sound like some fucking idiot cuck?”

“If the shoe fits?” You tease him only to get sand thrown your way. "You were the one to use that word, not me!"

“I won’t share my rations with you since I am an idiot. Those wild animals are already fighting over peanuts.” He gestures to the other survivors with a jab of his thumb.

You roll your eyes and follow the direction he just pointed towards, gasping dramatically when you see how greedy everybody is. “I didn’t even have a chance to get something! Don’t let me starve?” You look back at Adam, but when you see him smirk triumphantly, you quickly change your tune, “Actually, I will starve. When I am dead, my rotting corpse will hopefully make you sick. Literally. I will spread germs and fungus like crazy.”

“Shut up. Nobody is starving.” He scratches his chin. “You’d die of dehydration before you starve.”

“Okay, Mr Survival.” You lean back on your hands, sand warm between your fingers. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend that you were back home, strolling through your local market without a care in the world and sinking your hands into sacks of grain before passing to the next stall. But you are not. You are still on the beach—lost and confused. “What now?”

“We pray and wait.”

You scoff at that and let yourself fall back with a deep sigh, “Did you get any blankets?”

Just as you finish your inquiry, the heavy fabric hits you straight in the face. You grab and pull it away, covering your body with a small huff, “Thanks.”

All that Adam does is grunt in response.

The sky has darkened since you woke up, now speckled with tiny stars—your only source of brightness in the night. Reaching your hand out, you trace over different clusters of light, but cannot make out any constellations amongst any of them. Frowning, you murmur to yourself, but loud enough for Adam to hear, “I can’t find the North Star.”

Adam’s head snaps up, his eyes frantically searching the dark sky. “I really fucking hate this island.”

You wondered for a moment if you landed in the southern hemisphere somehow, but that was just ridiculous. “Hm. Probably just behind a cloud.”

“Sure. Or we—” Adam stopped himself and just swore under his breath.

“Or what?”

“Nothing.”

“Share with the circle.” You gesture with your arms.

“Mind your own damn business, woman.”

“Now that we are partners in survival, we should share everything with each other. How else are we supposed to build trust?”

“What’s your bra size?”

You click your tongue and roll onto your side, facing the dark waters of the Pacific, now merged together with the night skies. “Go die.”

Adam barks out a laugh, “If I die, you die. So watch yourself.”

You don’t really like the idea of being dependent on a stranger like this. What if he really is a pervert? What then? He is thrice your size, and you would lose in a physical fight. Would someone else help you? Or would they turn their heads the other way? Will everything fall apart in anarchy? You really hope not.

You sit up again, pressing your knees to your chest and your lips against the tops of them. “Are you really a good guy?”

“Maybe,” he seems to be lost in thought, not even looking at you as he speaks, “Maybe I am the worst person you will ever fucking meet. Hard to tell.”

You roll your eyes at that, “Why are you being so edgy all of a sudden?”

He finally meets your tired gaze again and grins, “To piss you off, mostly.”

“Awful. Horrible. Bad.”

“You talking about yourself there, babe?”

“Ugh!” You stretch your leg out of the blanket and kick against Adam’s thigh.

He is quick to wrap his fingers around your ankle, yanking you closer towards him by it. A shocked gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening at how easily Adam managed to do that. Before you can get any words out, Adam lets go of your leg and pushes the fabric of your pants upwards. Your heart rate spikes and—

“Does this hurt?” He presses down on your skin where a purple bruise has bloomed. You shake your head and, for the time being, he just hums. When Adam speaks up, his voice is filled with relief as he lets go of your ankle. “Bad bruise then.”

You let out a shaky breath you didn't even know you were holding in, and as quickly as you can, pull your leg back under the blanket. For a moment, you simply watch Adam. It's not like there is anything else for you to do.

Adam is definitely a big man with broad shoulders and strong arms. His nose has a prominent bridge and a downturned tip, while his eyes look sharp like a spark of fire created by striking two rocks, with irises the colour of the flames dancing between you two.

But he looks tired.

His eyebags look even more prominent in the light cast by the bonfire, and every little sound or movement made his eyes follow in search for the source.

“You should sleep.” You tell him.

Adam just rolls his eyes. “No, you.”

“Will you seriously fight with me over sleeping?”

“What can I fucking say? I love a good fight.” He smiles, but the curve of his lips is so weak, it doesn't carry the same punch as his words.

Still, you won't give him the satisfaction of fighting with you. “Then, I am sleeping.”

“You should, you got a nasty bruise on your temple.” He pats the ground around him until he finds a spare water bottle and then weakly throws it your way.

You grab it from where it lands by your feet and take a sip. “I thought with a concussion you shouldn’t sleep?”

“I will wake you up every hour.” He says, and he does look serious about it.

“Yeah? You and what clock?” You raise your brow at him.

Adam points at the watch on his wrist, and you watch him in real time realise what you noticed minutes ago: the watch has stopped working. “What the fuck. And look! It is the same time that stupid plane crashed—” Now he is seriously seething, and you really don't wish to stay to see how that pans out.

You yawn, eyes fluttering shut, “I will sleep now.”

“Alright, baby, I will be here.” Adam’s voice is uncharacteristically soft as you drift off to sleep.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌₊ ⊹

Adam actually kept true to his word and woke you up at regular intervals throughout the night. If you were him, you would’ve fallen asleep after the first two times. How he manages to still function with the little sleep he got is beyond you.

You wake up to the sun shining on your face. Sand sticks to your skin practically everywhere, and when you close your mouth, you can even feel the grittiness of it on your tongue.

With a sigh, you sit up and look around. The fire has died down, leaving only the coals glowing in a warm, soft light of the morning sun.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Adam already seems chipper. You wonder where he gets the energy from after staying up the entire night.

“Hi.” You stretch your arms above your head, “How did the praying and waiting work out for you?”

“ ‘s good.” Adam yawns, and you can't help but do the same.

You dry the wetness that gathered at the corners of your eyes with your sleeve and check on the other survivors, only to notice one of them making his way towards your little camp.

His pale skin looks even paler in the sunlight and in contrast with his long, black hair. He is thin and unsure, tripping over his own feet, but catching himself before face-planting into the ground and getting a mouth full of sand. You hear Adam scoff at your side, glaring the young man down as if he is a walking threat.

“H-hey, my name is Pendleton. Uhm, we were going to have everyone assemble to make a plan—” The guy stutters through his clearly pre-planned words once he is close enough.

“Plan? What the fuck do you want to plan? Who gets cannibalised first?” Adam growls.

You side-eye the man, “Adam.”

He looks at you, like you are the unreasonable one. “What?”

You smile at Pendleton, who looks like he is close to tears. “We will follow after you.”

Pendleton nods in relief, a shaky smile ghosting his lips. He turns around and walks back to where he came from.

The fact that you have to pull on Adam’s arm for him to get up is sure something. “You are a grown-ass man. Get up!”

Still, he keeps sitting on his fat ass, “Bitch, I don’t wanna talk to these heathens.”

“Humans are social animals—” You tug one more time before dropping his arm with force. “You know what? I don’t even care, actually. I am going to join that…meeting. Stay here and sulk if you want.”

You try to follow after the young man quickly, but walking in the sand with your shoes on turns out to be quite a challenge. All you can do is carry on, even if you can already feel sand pooling in your socks.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you smile to yourself, knowing that you got Adam to get over himself and throwing a glance over your shoulder only to see just how unhappy he is while doing so makes you forget all about the sand in your shoes.

Although what you would never admit out loud is that this might have just been one of those things Adam was right about, again. To your dismay.

The assembly was a mess since nobody could really agree on anything. Some people tried to establish themselves as some sort of beloved leaders who would totally take good care of their subjects, yet when it came to making efforts to call for help or actually surviving on the island, no one dared to speak.

Of course, there were a few things everyone could agree on: there should be stones spelling out ‘SOS’ in the sand, a count should be kept on how many people there are (66 with you and Adam), and every man is for themselves.

“Are you satisfied?” Adam grunts while hitting two rocks together, but the sparks seem to refuse to catch the dry grass on fire. “Did you like the little talk?”

You just drag a hand over your face while lying on your little mat. Does Adam even have any friends? Who could be friends with a guy like that? Even worse, who would date him? Sleep with him? What a horrific thought, to have that man on top of you.

“I liked my little talk, with my little friends and my little boyfriend.”

“Yeah, that Pendel really puts the boy in boyfriend. You know, I fucking saw him try to carry a suitcase and fail.” Adam holds a rock out in front of your face and pitches his voice to imitate the fall he saw, along with the wet sound onomatopoeia, “Oh, cheerio, I needs my suitcasey. Blegh.”

“No way that is what happened.”

“That is exactly what fucking happened.”

“Lying is a sin.”

“You know, next time we look for our suitcases in a wreck, I won’t carry yours.”

“Thank God I only got one suitcase.”

Adam turns to your suitcase, “I am throwing it in the ocean.

That makes you jolt up, “Are you crazy?!”

“I am pissed the fuck off.” He seethes and hits the flint again, and this time, the dry grass finally catches on fire, burning slow and steady. “Never-fucking-mind. My spirit has risen.”

“You are pretty moody. Are you on your period?”

Adam throws a rock towards you, hitting you straight in the knee. His eyes widen momentarily, but it just bounces off, leaving no pain behind.

“Hm. And you throw like a girl. So, it is a yes to the period question?”

Now that makes him snap verbally at you, “You are acting pretty ungrateful for someone who has contributed exactly zero.”

“Aren’t men providers in your worldview?”

Adam just scoffs, “Sure. You start sucking my dick whenever I want, and I can be a real provider.”

You rub your temples in exasperation. “You can always kick me out.”

“Shut up. You are so fucking annoying.”

“Not annoying enough to get kicked out? What would get me kicked out? You got a soft spot for me?” You move your leg, teasingly nudging Adam’s outer thigh with it.

Adam grabs it by the ankle, but doesn't pull your leg away. “You wish. I will need to have easy prey when the island devolves to cannibalism.” He ends it by giving your ankle a warning squeeze.

You chuckle, “Sure, sure, sure.” Adam doesn't respond, so you glance back towards the forest, “Maybe we should explore the island?”

Adam blinks, his hand leaving your ankle to rub his stubbly chin. “We do need more firewood, if we want to keep the fire going through the night.”

“Yeah, and it is still light out, you know? Better now than later.” To be honest, you just want to look at the animals and plants, in the hope of better orientating yourself. The stars were no help, after all.

Adam puts some more sticks in the fire, before turning to his own suitcase. You watch him rummaging around.

“What? You got a machete in there?” You joke. And then he seriously pulls out a machete, leather sheath and everything. Your mouth drops open in shock. “What the fuck?! Where the hell were you flying to?!”

Adam gets up, dusting sand off of his knees. “Home? I was going to gift this to my father.”

“Where the fuck do you live?” You stand up as well, hands on your hips while you wait for Adam to lead the way.

Adam makes some vague motion with his hands while he moves towards the forest, “It is really isolated. Lots of nature, you know? My family is self-sustainable. A farm with animals and shit.”

“Oh, that is nice.” You guess? Makes sense why he carries a huge blade like that around. Maybe he is bad news. At this point, it is too late to leave; different groups have already formed, and you doubt it will be easy to get your foot in.

You are so lost in thought, you don't even register when Adam stops walking until you walk into his back.

“You should stay behind.” He says, not even turning around to look at you.

“No? I will come too.” You stomp your foot. “It was my idea!”

“Watch the fire and our stuff.” Adam rolls his eyes at your childish act.

“Nothing will happen.” You roll your eyes and then tilt your head to the side, “Or, let me guess, you aren’t good enough at keeping me safe, huh? All you said was some cheap act? I see.”

Adam glares at you and your poor attempt to outsmart him, but ends up giving up and allowing you to tag along. “If you get hurt, I want no complaints.”

You nod your head, knowing full well that you will bitch and complain about a splinter if it comes down to it. With a skip in your step, you follow after Adam.

The forest turns out to be unsurprisingly verdant, yet, perhaps, calling the lungs of this island a mere woodland would be a disservice. Instead, it resembles what someone who had a rough idea of what a jungle looks like, cultivated it. The wilderness is not man-made by any means, but grown with intent.

What catches your attention is the fact that out of the plants and flowers you recognise, each one belongs to a whole different continent. From Brazilian Rosewood trees to the Calla Lily flowers. Almost as if this corner of the world was a botanical garden and not something that occurred naturally and over a long period of time.

“Do you hear that?” Adam asks, looking around.

You turn your head in the direction Adam is looking at, straining your ears to hear what he just did. “…No?”

“Exactly. Where are the birds? I don’t even see one fucking insect.” Adam raises his machete, cutting down vines and curly branches in his—and in turn your—way. “Go collect some wood instead of standing around.”

You sigh, as if Adam just asked you to carry the sky, but don't argue. Looking around, you crouch down to collect sticks and pieces of wood lying nearest to you. But the more you look, the more you find. Almost like your wish alone to find wood causes the island to morph to your whims and supply what you need.

During your gathering, you make sure not to stray too far away from Adam. You don’t need to get lost, honestly. And just as your arms got full with firewood, and you were ready to collect the last pieces, you spot something on the ground. It's a lump, hiding behind a bush. You can smell sulfur in the air, and it makes you a bit nervous.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you take measured steps towards it. The lump on the ground turns out to be a pile of clothing. Is someone around? Shit, what if someone is around? The clothes look masculine. “Adam!” You yell out and only think later about the possible repercussions of getting attacked by the owner of these clothes.

To his credit, Adam is fast. He gets to your side immediately, giving you a quick glance over before he looks around, “What? What happened?”

You straighten out your back, “Look,” and point with the tip of your foot, “There are clothes here.”

Adam raises his eyebrow before he opens his loud mouth, “Hello! Is anyone near? We got your shit!” He yells while looking around.

Bending down, you can’t help yourself and pick up a loose shirt at the very top of the suspicious pile when suddenly, recognition hits you, “Oh my God, those are Pendleton’s clothes.”

“Shit, you are right. Maybe he took a swim? I saw some hot springs near here.” Adam scratches his head in confusion.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Adam.” You look up at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He presses his hand against your lower back. “I will take the wood, yeah?”

You gather the rest of the things from the ground and carefully give everything to Adam, including the firewood, before you move to walk back to the beach. Nothing got taken from your camp thankfully, but as the sun moves through the sky, changing its colour in the process, you still don’t see Pendleton anywhere.

“We should ask the others if they have seen him.” You tell Adam while folding the clothes neatly in your lap.

Adam groans, but doesn't get up from his seat by the fire. He had collected some edible roots on your way back and now is spearing them on a stick. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. What if something happened?” You furrow your eyebrows and frown. “Adam, please.”

“Didn’t know you had manners.” He puts the final stick into the sand, near the fire. “If my food burns, I will be mad.”

You smile at Adam as you get up, and with his grumpy self hot on your heels, walk towards the rest of the survivors. The little groups had assembled themselves into little circles, keeping a good distance between each other. You wave your hand as you walk towards them.

“Everyone! May I have your attention, please? Can everyone come closer?” Some people look at you confused, others snicker, but in the end they come closer to hear what you have to say. It probably helped to have Adam around, who is more like a guard dog than a man.

You hold out the clothes in front of you, clear to see for everyone. “I found Pendleton’s clothes in the forest. Has anyone seen him? Who was grouped up with him again?”

A small guy steps forward, a pair of thick glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose with one of the lenses cracked near the top. “He is with me. Pendleton left early in the morning, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“So he is missing?” You make sure.

“Presumably.” Now you recall the man's name—Baxter. Unusual name, but you remember Adam bitching to himself about the little guy using big words on your way back from the meeting.

“Should we go looking for him?” You ask the dreaded question, and suddenly everyone breaks out in wild chatter. Yes, no, maybe, what is in that for me, are you stupid?

You can hear a sharp clap reverberate through the open space, causing heads to turn to another man. He looks familiar, but you can't put your finger on why exactly. You guess he does have striking features: pale complexion and blond hair brushed back away from his face, contrasting nicely against deep, brow eyes. The colour of his irises is so rich, you swear that when a stray ray of sun hits them, they shine burgundy. “We should go looking for him! He was a friend after all.”

Someone in the crowd scoffs—a girl so pretty, she looks almost doll-like, “Speak for your fucking self!”

The blond man only shrugs at that with a small smile.

You don’t think you know his name, but it feels like it's just on the tip of your tongue. Was he a steward? Maybe the Co-Pilot? Or perhaps he sat close to you on the plane?

He meets your gaze in the crowd and smiles, his teeth sharp. “I am speaking for myself. It is getting dark, and I will look for him in the morning. Maybe he will turn up again by then.”

Not a single one of the survivors stands close to him. Isn't he a part of one of the groups? He holds a sizeable bundle in his arms, which means he is moving around. Weird.

You turn to Adam, uneasiness pooling in your stomach, only to see him frown and glare the smaller man down. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh? Did you forget my name from the introduction? That is totally fine! I am Samael! You are Adam, right?” He tilts his head, looking more like a porcelain doll than a human.

“Don’t say my name.” Adam spits out. “Something is really wrong with you, freak. I have no memory of you.”

Samael does give off weird vibes, but to be fair, Adam's memory has been failing him lately. He doesn't remember the crash either.

Don’t say that! He was there on the plane! I saw him! He sat with me! He was giving out water bottles, don’t you remember? Voices overlapped, causing Adam to let out a low growl and rub at his temples.

“That is fine.” Samael shrugs, and then he turns to look at you. “Will you go to search for Pendleton with me tomorrow?”

“Uhm,” You feel put on the spot. “Maybe.”

Honestly, you will probably go by yourself, and by yourself you mean with Adam and his machete.

“How nice.” His tongue is thin as it peeks out of his lips to give them a quick lick. Almost like a snake plotting on its prey. You could swear the tip of it is forked, but the heat of the sun must be getting to your head.

With a sigh, you nod. “Guys, please look out for Pendleton.” And with that, you say your goodbyes for the night. Adam’s arm drapes over your slumped shoulders as you walk back to your little camp.

You are so lost in thought that when Adam's voice snaps at someone behind you, you nearly jump out of your skin. “Stop fucking following us!”

You didn’t even notice Samael behind you. “Don’t be mean, Adam. I just want to relocate my camp. I was too close to the water, you know.”

Adam throws a couple more insults at his newfound enemy under his breath, but that's about it. You cling to the heap of clothes pressed against your chest, hoping that Pendleton is doing okay and for him to survive the night, no matter where he is.

The window seat on your right is empty while the one on your left is filled to the brim. You don't mean to be rude but the man spilling into your seat like a shapeless bag of skin is really making your skin itch. You already endured the man as he adjusted in his seat before finally passing out with a roar of a disruptive snore, but as no one comes to claim the window seat, the more it becomes alluring to you.

With a click, you untangle out of your seatbelt and slump against the cold chair. The seat creaks under your weight as you readjust into a slightly more comfortable position yet as you are about to re-buckle a male voice grabs your attention.

"Woman, move."

You take out one of your earbuds and glance sidelong before taking the other one as well and fully turn your head towards a man currently blocking the entire narrow aisle of the plane for the rest of the passengers. "Oh! Is this your seat?"

"Sure as hell isn't yours," he growls, peeved. "Move."

You quickly stand up and get back into the middle one. Twisting your legs to free up some space for the rude man to pass by, you catch a gleam of a golden cross around his neck now dangling at your eye level, almost wordlessly accusing you, as he leans into your space to avoid hitting his head against the air and light controls overhead. You can feel his warm breath against your forehead.

Of course he's a Christian.

"You could be nicer about it." You mutter under your breath, casting your gaze away from the man with burning cheeks. "How did they even let you past the gates this close to departure."

He doesn't answer to that but you didn't expect him to. The tall brunet plops into his seat and has the gall to man spread, completely sandwiching you against big, male bodies on both sides.

"Okay, what is your problem?!" You raise your voice, completely disregarding the captain's voice coming over the speaker at the same time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 444. Please direct your attention to the cabin crew as they review the emergency procedures."

"My problem? It's you who's howling just because through the whole damn plane."

"We ask that you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for the take-off."

"Well if that obese dude on the left bough two seats and you had any decency to sit like a normal person I wouldn't!"

"Should the cabin experience sudden pressure loss, stay calm and listen for further instructions from the cabin crew."

"Well I didn't think me making room for my dick would strike such a nerve with some bitch on her period but here we are."

"Oxygen masks will drop down from above your seat. Place the mask over your mouth and nose. Pull the strap to tighten it. If you are travelling with children, make sure that your own mask is on first."

"I'M NOT ON MY PERIOD!"

The burning golden irises of his amber eyes don't dim the fire in your own as you return his glare with a heaving chest and a clenched jaw. Out of pure spite, you conjure all strength to your leg muscles, spreading your legs as far as you possibly could without dislocating a joint.

"Thank you for choosing Eden Airlines. Please, enjoy your flight."

"Maybe buy your dick an extra seat next time if you can't fit in one."

With that you face forward and away from him, arms crossed over your chest and jittery fingers digging into your upper arms as you angrily stare at the safety instructions on the back of the seat in front of you.

You hear the guy scoff beside you, “Bitch, my dick would need two seats.”

Just as you got ready to yell at him about liars going to hell, the steadily accelerating roar of the engines, signalling a plane's takeoff, cuts you off. Your mouth snaps shut as you tightly press your lips together. You can feel the vibrations under your seat, travelling from your glutes to your teeth.

All you can do is remind yourself that flying is much safer than driving. You drove to the airport, and that was the most dangerous part of your journey. Still, your hand wraps around your wrist, nails pressing into the soft skin.

Holding onto a hand rest would be nice, but one is completely consumed, while the one on your right is probably the property of the king of the window seat.

And fuck, in all of this unnecessary commotion, you forgot to pop some gum into your mouth to avoid the annoying pressure in your ears. At the same moment, a loud, agitating pop comes from your right as the guy blows a bubble with his. Glad he didn't forget.

With a final jolt of the air plane you are finally in the air. Taking a deep breath, you lean forward to look out of the window. Sadly for you, it was hard to look at the clouds.

“Suck in that fat stomach of yours, I can’t fucking see.” You seethe at the stranger.

His sharp eyes snap in your direction, “I am so damn nice, leaving you be to your stupid womanly panic attack just so you command me around?”

“What is a ‘womanly panic attack’?! You sexist pig—”

“Pig?!” His voice goes a pitch higher and you actually can’t believe that is the part he is mad at. “Watch your mouth.”

“Never.” You raise your chin in defiance. If it looks like a pig and squeals like one—

One of his hands came down on your head rest, while the other was at the bottom of your seat. You raise a questioning eyebrow and then, he shakes your seat.

“Oooh, the plane is crashing! You are dying and going to eternal damnation!” There was pure joy in his voice.

You couldn’t help the squeal coming from your mouth. “Stop that—” You gasp out, “Stewardess!”

“What? You are going to snitch to mummy?” He seems genuinely offended.

“Yeah and I hope she publicly executes you!” You hiss out.

He considers your words for a moment, and then, he grins. “You roll that way? You like public stuff?”

“What is wrong with you?”

He gives your seat one final shake, before letting go. Resting his forehead against the wall, he mumbles, “Whatever. There isn’t anything exciting to see out the window.”

“Who are you to tell me what is interesting or not?” You make another attempt to lean over and finally you are able to see outside. And you see… nothing exciting. There are clouds, and the longer you fly the darker and heavier they get. That makes you frown. You hope it doesn't cause turbulence.

“Dear passengers, we are finally leaving the land behind us. To your right you can see the Pacific Ocean and to your left is the Pacific Ocean!” You hear the pilot chuckle through the speakers. You didn’t think he was funny.

Your newfound mortal enemy seems to agree with you, since he rolls his eyes dramatically, “I can’t fucking wait till this shit is over.”

“Tell me about it.” You end with a yawn, feeling tired. Your anxiety has mostly passed which meant that now you are left with a weird emptiness, one that tugs onto your heavy eyelids and pulls you towards the type of sleep that doesn't fully take you out of this world. You still hear everything happening around you—to your dismay.

People keep walking up and down the aisle and you can clearly hear every time the bathroom door opens and shuts. Everything seems restless, as if the air is charged with invisible miasma. You hear someone leave the restroom, and when your eyes flutter open for a split second you could see that it was the co-pilot, now on his way to the cabin.

And then the shouting starts. From a mix of accents and languages, you manage to gather that the pilot has seemingly locked himself in and nobody can enter. A few stewardesses try to open the door, but with no success. Your fellow passengers start talking amongst themselves in hushed voices.

“What is going on?” You look around for an answer, but don't find one.

The man to your right was about to speak up, but gets interrupted by the speakers.

“My apologies. There have been some technical issues. I know that as a pilot it is my responsibility to keep everyone safe, so do not worry. I have everything under control.” There is an edge to his voice you did not like. Now you wish that the rapid change in altitude had left you deaf. Maybe you wouldn’t have woken up and then you wouldn’t have to suffer through this.

“I don’t like this.” You say, voice shaky.

The man beside you shifts in his seat. You can see his jaw muscles clench as he responds, “Me neither.”

Since you don't have your own arm rest, you wrap your arm around his forearm. To your surprise, he lets you and without a fuss.

“Adam.”

You turn to look at him in slight confusion, “What?”

"That’s my name. In case you need something to scream out.” He winks at you, although, this time, you believe that his crudeness is merely an attempt to calm your nerves. And judging by the slight twitch of the corner of his upturned lip, it might be for his own sake as well.

You tell him your name in exchange, trying to be louder than the passengers behind you, who understandably are becoming more and more restless in their assigned seats.

This doesn't help either of you with the steadily rising feeling of dread.

A young stewardess stands at the front, trying her best to get everyone's attention by loudly speaking over the panicking masses, “Everyone, please stay calm. The pilot is going through a health crisis and we are trying to gain access to the—”

“Oh my god, we are going to die!” A single guttural scream from somewhere in the back of the plane is all it takes for everyone to loose their minds.

Some people are scurrying to get up from their seats, others busy their shaking hands by fastening their seatbelts. Someone decided to steal tiny bottles of alcohol from the food cart, because that was the logical choice to make, of course.

You spot a few passengers pull out their phones, but of what use they could be in a situation like this is a mystery to you. Perhaps, in a way, it's just something familiar for people to cling onto in search for false sense of security—a modern man's rosary—but you don't know for sure.

“So, from all that screaming outside it seems like you all know what is going to happen.” Your captain speaks through the speaker, following his words up with a dry chuckle, “Don’t worry, this ocean crash will rival the titanic!”

You turn to Adam, “What is going to happen!?”

His hand is clasped around the cross dangling from his neck, “Girlie, it is time to make peace with your God.”

You don’t feel at peace with anything—not with death, not with God, not with flying, not with Adam. There was a lot of things left unresolved in your life, simply because you are too young to die. You feel a sense of entitlement within you towards living. This can’t be the end.

And then, the plane tilts. The sheer force of the sudden manoeuvre presses you into your seat, pushing on your chest to the point you simply could not breathe.

Those who were standing or walking around are now being thrown around the passenger cabin. You are pretty sure that you saw a tooth fly past you.

Lights begin to flash and then, the incessant beeping starts, accompanied by a robotic statement from the aircraft's system located in the cockpit, "Too low terrain."

That emotionless tone of the machine would have never been made audible to all of you if not for the captain leaving the microphone on.

Where is—

You look up at the overhead console. You don't remember the safety instructions, where is everything?

Looking around in a panic, you swear you saw a spark of light dancing around the aisle amongst the chaos. You watch as it morphs before your eyes into something, but before you can make out what, you have to look away. It simply hurt to look at. It was as if you were looking through a veil, straight beyond your own plane of existence.

You blink away the tears blurring your vision and—ah, maybe it was just a stewardess drawing your attention towards the nearest exit? Or perhaps it was one of the passengers that had their damn phone in hand? That did look a lot like a flash, to your annoyance.

But then again, what did it matter? It's not like a light could help you in any way.

You cast your eyes to look down at your own hands. You know they are yours, you feel them cramp from how hard you are clutching onto your seat, but at the same time it seems like you are watching a movie shot through a first person lens.

This wasn’t happening—this couldn’t happen. Not to you, not now. This was something that takes place in Hollywood blockbusters or befalls someone else, only for you to read about in the newspaper and never think of again.

You feel your left ring finger growing numb and for a second you think that your hand might be falling asleep from an uncomfortable position your body is in, only to notice a red, bright, glowing string, neatly wrapped around the digit. Without an end in sight, it curls over your lap and down your legs like a tiny river. But the feeling in your finger steadily intensifies, choking it and in turn you with some sort of unfathomed energy.

Out of curiosity, you lean a bit to see the red string trail off to the right and are about to grasp it for a little tug when the plane jerks again. You close your eyes and think how nice it would be if that crimson thread would lead you out of here towards a better, safer place. Maybe you would wake up in your bed at the beginning of today, maybe in your car, only to turn around and never entering this plane. You just wish something would save you.

What could even help—save—you in this situation?

You suddenly feel yourself being tugged by force out of your seat. You can't see anything but you can hear. The bloodcurdling screams, the hushed prayer at the side of your face, soft warm breath with a slight freshness of mint tickling your ear.

You don't join in on the prayer, even though you know it ad nauseam.

There is something curled around your body, strong and warm. It keeps you grounded, as much as something could in this situation. The prayer just keeps repeating itself over and over and over—

This is the 5th call you declined.

As soon as you pressed the button, your screen light up again. Adam really was stubborn. He must’ve gotten the conformation email now. It makes you smile.

It was actually a struggle to turn your phone off, with the onslaught of messages and calls you got. You did not bother reading them, but your eyes still got stuck at some words. Like, bitch, cunt, how dare you. When the screen finally turned off, you threw yourself on the couch and put your feet up.

You deserved this. This peace, this revenge, the joy it brings you. With your remote in hand you put on something from your watch-list, and you let the rest of the evening melt away. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

Sadly for you, this nap was cut short by pounding on your door and the bell ringing in tandem. You felt confused, your mouth was dry and the light too bright. Just as you questioned who would bother you at this hour, you heard your name being called.

“Open the fuckin’ door!” Adam seethed on the other side.

You just ignored him. Stretching your arms and legs, you yawned silently. Then, you got up to look through the peak hole. Oh yeah, he looked mad. He stood in the hallway of your apartment building like an angry bull. If he could, he would probably ram through the door.

Adam scratched his stubbly chin and was about to consider that you simply weren’t home, when you made the fatal mistake of slamming your elbow into the wall beside you. You sharply inhaled and Adam’s burning eyes snapped to the door.

“Don’t be a coward! Open the door!” Oh, you were never going to get rid of him now.

You hesitated for a moment and then you spoke, “No. I didn’t do whatever you are accusing me off.” You for sure did that and more.

With a big hand he went through his hair and he started a new approach. “Baby, sweetheart, c’mon now. Open the door. “ His voice was soft and you felt weak for a split second.

Your eyes narrowed, “Fuck off. I don’t know what you want from me. We are broken up. It is creepy to stalk your ex.”

“My crazy ex who fuckin’ signed me up for the Satanic Temple!” Adam was back to anger, he stomped his foot on the floor and his hands flew to the door knob. He rattled at the door. The way the door shock actually made you feel real fear. The thin wood seemed to bend at the will of Adam, and if he really wanted to, he could easily break in.

You gasped, “Stop it! You are scaring me.”

Adam immediately let go off the door and frowned. “Let me in.” His hands dipped into the pockets of his leather jacket and he pulled out a bag of candy. Your favourite. He teasingly wiggled the bag around.

That was all the peace offering you needed, so you unlocked all the locks on your door and opened it. Adam looked satisfied, which did in fact piss you off so much that you attempted to slam the door shut. He was faster, and wedged his foot in between door and frame. With his big body he pushed through and let himself in.

“Who said you could come in?! Take off your shoes, have you got no manners?” You scolded him.

Adam dramatically groaned, but he still took off his boots and neatly put them beside the shoe rack. On his way to the living room he took off his jacket and carelessly threw it into an armchair. He sat down on the couch and spread his legs like the space belonged to him.

You crossed your arms and glared at him. He seemed unbothered by that. Adam vaguely gestured towards the door. “You should get better locks. Anyone could break in, ya know?”

“Like you?”

His smile was sleazy, “No lock will keep me away from you, baby.”

“I am calling security.” You didn’t really mean it, you didn’t even bother reaching for your phone.

“Woah, tiger! Put away the claws.” He effortlessly opened the candy bag.

Adam held out the candy bag towards you, and you dropped your arms to your side. You took a step towards him, ready to get your reward for putting up with him for two whole minutes, until you saw his grin. Oh, you hate him.

You bit down on your tongue to stop you from speaking and simply smiled at him. When you continued walking towards Adam, you made sure to sway your hips in that manner he enjoyed. His body language relaxed and you were so close to him. You leaned down, your shirt dropping down to reveal cleavage and he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings .

Which is why he didn’t notice when you took a pillow into your hand and smashed it over his head. With your other hand you snatched the bag of goodies out off his hand and made your way to the arm chair. You simply dropped his jacket to the ground, and sat down in it.

“You piss me the fuck off.” Adam says while rubbing his head.

You didn’t bother responding, because it is rude to speak with a full mouth, you think to yourself while stuffing candy into said mouth.

Adam simply watched you, before he decided to speak up again. Who gave him permission to do that, you weren’t too sure off. “So, where else did you sign me up?”

“I never signed you anywhere up.” You lie. “Must have been your other exes.”

“Shut up. I know it was you.”

“Innocent until proven otherwise.”

“Then stop using the same password for everything.”

“Ah.” Caught red handed.

“Ah,” Adam mocked your voice, like an evil parrot designed to make you angry, “Where else?”

You think about it for a moment, there was a lot. “Gay porn, furry porn, Jehovah Witnesses, Lucifer’s blog updates, the military—”

“YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR THE MILITARY?!?” He yelled so loud, you actually jumped.

“Yeah. Navy. You are welcome.” You smiled sweetly at him to provoke him some more.

Adam rubbed a hand over his forehead. “You broke up with me. Shouldn’t I be the fucker signing you up everywhere?” Now he really sounded exhausted, which isn’t that much fun anymore.

“You deserve it.” You decide on saying.

He just chuckled. “Sure. Whatever makes you happy, babe.”

You didn’t even want to see that post, him out at a club, girls hanging off him. Something in you came alive, and you couldn’t stop yourself from entering his email everywhere. And it is true, you broke up with him.

You were simply incompatible. You had a jealousy that ran deep and burned away at your insides, while Adam loved attention. His band didn’t help, and neither did his good looks. There was only so much talking you could do about boundaries and your feelings before you felt unheard, and in the end you would just yell at each other. Sure, he wouldn’t cheat on you, but were sure? So sure? No, and he simply didn’t bother changing.

But he also didn’t think you would break up with him, so here you were.

“How is dating?” Adam asked, and that was truly a question he asked to punish himself. Like the hypocrite he is, he was just as jealous and possessive as you.

You raised a brow and replied in a dry tone, “Good. I am out every night.” You haven’t left the house in three days.

“Me too.”

Now that you believe, and you frown. “Go home, Adam.”

He splayed himself out on the couch, taking up space like it is truly his. “I am home.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are unwelcome.”

“What was that? I am always welcome? Ugh, you are too sweet, babe.” He grinned.

“Why do you always play with me? Stop annoying me for one second.” You spit out. Now that was meant to stay buried deep inside.

Adam was quiet, which was a rare occurrence. “Get back together with me.” He suddenly sat up to look into your eyes.

“Oh my god.” You groaned.

“It will be different this time.” He tried to convince you.

“It won’t be.” You tell him.

“You don’t know fuckin’ know that!” His hands were widely gesturing around.

“Do you even get why we—”

“We didn’t break up.” Adam hissed, “You. It was all fuckin’ you. We could be engaged, instead you are signing me up for Lucifer’s fuckass feelings blog.”

“I am signing you up for Lilith’s feminism blog next.” You glare at him, purposefully ignoring everything else he said.

“Fuckin’ peachy. Do that. I will just sign you up for— for—” He scratched his chin, “Lesbian porn.” He seemed pretty proud of himself for that one.

“Nice.”

“Oh, fuck off!” He laid back down on the couch and crossed his arms. “I won’t leave. I am never leaving. Until you take me back. I will go on a fuckin’ hunger strike, if I must.” A hunger strike for Adam is the 8 hours he sleeps a day.

“Noted.” You simply say and then you proceed to dramatically rustle the candy bag.

Adam side eyed you and screeched, “Stop sabotaging me!” He threw his arms up.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, which made Adam’s eyes light up. “Whatever. You know where the blankets and pillows are stored.” With that you stood up and dusted your shorts off.

“Lemme sleep in the bed room.”

“Stop testing your luck.”

“Fine. I need a toothbrush.”

“Yours is still in the bathroom.” You said before you could stop yourself. You hastily bit down on your lip.

“Oh yeah? You missed me? You licked my toothbrush imaging it is me? Not that I would do that with yours—” Now Adam embarrassed himself more than you did tonight.

“Good night.” You interrupted him and locked yourself into your bed room.

You fished out your phone and turned it back on. You sent one simple message to your group chat, containing all your friends.

‘It worked lol he came over’

You sighed in relief. “Don’t worry! I will pick you up and everything. You can be the passenger princess.”

Adam groaned, “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, pretty princess.” You snickered into the phone.

“Shut up. I will spank you.” He threatened you.

“Ooh, promise?” You couldn’t help but tease.

Adam chuckled. “Maybe. So you will pick me up today? I will send you my address.”

“I will. My car isn’t fancy though, so don’t judge, please.” You finally put your noddles and pesto on a plate, ready to eat. “We need to get snacks and maybe something to drink? I will pack my blankets.”

“Yes, of course, we can hit the store before watching the movie.” Adam sounded very enthusiastic. “My treat, obviously.”

You chuckled at that. “Sounds good.” You threw a glance at your laptop sitting on your desk, and people started to join the online class. “Adam, I gotta go. My class is starting. Text me the address, yeah? Bye!”

With that you hung up the phone and joined your class with the camera off, so you could peacefully shove pasta into your mouth.

• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •

This is a scarily fancy neighbourhood. It felt illegal just to exist here. Your neighbourhood was filled with students on a budget like you. All you could do was crank you neck to look up at the apartment building, you wondered how many stories it had. A knock on the window startled you. Thankfully, it was just Adam. You quickly unlocked the doors, and he got in.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Adam greeted you, as he sat the seat back so his long, thick legs would fit.

“Hi! You know any stores near here? You know, for some snacks.” You put your car in drive, ready to start your journey.

“Yeah, baby, I got ya. I will tell you where to go.” Adam smiled as he buckled himself in.

The drive was uneventful, and you were just glad to be in the store. “Well, we need popcorn. Or else it is just not a true cinema experience.” You said, while grabbing a basket.

Adam grinned. “Get whatever you want, baby.” He walked around the candy isle, and picket up two gummy packages. As he tried to decide between the two, he just shrugged his shoulders and threw both in the basket.

“Anything you don’t like?” Adam asked, while his fingers danced over your back.

“Hm, liquorice.” You try to think of more things you don’t like eating, but draw a blank.

Adam stepped closer to you and rested his on your shoulder, while his arms wrapped around your waist. “What do you want to drink?” His breath brushed against your ear, and you felt your face burn.

“…Soda.” You squeaked out.

He chuckled, and let go off you. Where Adam’s arms were it felt weirdly cold now. You do miss his touch. Turning around, you grabbed Adam’s hand. “Let’s grab some chips and the popcorn. Then the soda and we leave. I don’t wanna be late.”

Adam squeezed your hand, “Let’s get going, babe.” With that you and Adam finished off the small shopping trip.

You carefully parked the car, and killed the engine. “Thank fuck. Who would’ve thought that there would be such a crazy line? How slow can you check tickets?”

Adam nodded in agreement. “Pretty sure the guy was stoned as fucked.”

Sighing, you turned around and rummaged around the car for your snacks and blankets. You handed Adam the full plastic bag, and finally won the fight against the fabric and pulled it out.

“Oh, shit, this is really soft.” Adam’s hands glide over the blanket draped over his lap.

“I put in extra fabric softener for today!” You smiled. Reaching out, you searched through the shopping bag for the popcorn. You successfully pulled out the package and were quick to open it.

Adam had the bottles stashed by his feet, and he got his energy drink out. He opened the can and started drinking. “Babe, you like horror movies?”

“Hm, yes, but I do get scared easily. Guess you will have to hold my hand, how tragic.” You sighed dramatically.

“Fuck, I will have to hold my dates hand? Nah. That is so not cool, dude.” Adam shook his head in despair, but quickly broke character, a smile lighting up his handsome face.

“Shut up.” You laughed, and then held your hand out to Adam. He was quick to hold it, intervening your fingers.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a light flash. With an excited gasp you turned around, “The movie is starting!” You quickly turned off any light left on in the car.

“You excited?” Adam asked, as his free hand reached out to get some popcorn from your lap.

“Very, actually. I never got to see the movie, it has been on my list for so long.” Your eyes were focused on the big screen.

As the movie unfolded and you gasped and yelped at every jump scare, Adam kept calm. Matter of fact, most scenes which you found scary made him laugh. “Ha! Idiot, should’ve ran faster.”

“Oh my god, you are so mean to the final girl.” You couldn’t help but snicker. The next moment the monster jumped out from the screen, and you hit your knees against the steering wheel.

Now Adam was laughing at you. “Baby, calm down. No monster can touch you while I am here.”

“I am calm— hold me!” You were quick to wrap your hand around Adam’s big arm.

“Gladly.” Adam practically purred out. His hand covered your own easily.

The movie reached a calm part and you were able to breath. You took sips of your drink. As you set your bottle down, your eyes flickered to Adam. He was already looking at you. His golden eyes burned into you.

You felt weirdly aware of everything. The blanket draped over your lap, the warm air in the car, the breeze coming in form the open windows, your hand on Adam’s arm and his hand on yours.

Carefully, you sucked in a breath, afraid that any movement will destroy this moment. Slowly, you leaned your face towards Adam. You saw him blink, his long lashes brushing against his olive skin.

You felt his breath against your own face, you were so close. So close to brushing your lips against his, to kiss him. Your eyes were closed and felt some lump pressed against your lips.

In confusion you opened your eyes, and saw the candy pressed against your mouth. All you could do was quickly bite down on the soft gummy and chew on it.

“You like it?” Adam asked.

“It’s good.” Is all you answer, swallowing the candy down. You felt sick.

Adam made sure to keep his lap covered, the snacks practically stacked on top of him.

You barley could look at him. Your body burned from pure shame. Just what is so wrong with you? You could barley register the rest of the movie. Your hands felt shaky, and you kept them mostly to yourself.

Not even a kiss. A slimy guy like Adam won’t even kiss you. At this point you really had to self reflect on what it is about you that repels dates. Your outfit? Jude said it had enough tit to still be classy, but now you were doubting her. Maybe it is your whole soul? Just a bad vibe you give out, that screams celibacy. Maybe you are just meant to be a nun?

The movie was over. You were happy this horrible humiliation ritual was finally over. So, clearly this is a failed date. At least this time, it was the third date that failed and not the first.

As you drove Adam home, he kept trying to keep the conversation going. You could barley answer him, just nodding and humming when it was appropriate. As you pulled up in front of his building, you just felt tired.

“So, like, when will I see you again?” Adam asked, pure hope in his voice.

You were wondering if he was fucking with you. Is this some prolonged prank? Does he secretly hate you? Will you come to your classes and everyone will point and laugh at you for being so undesirable?

All you did was blink at him. “I don’t know. I need to get going.”

“Ah, I will text you then?” Adam asked. You just nodded in agreement, ready to bolt. Adam bid you goodbye, and you drove home as quick as you could.

• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •

You have been successfully ignoring Adam’s texts and any attempt at contacting you. It was easy over the weekend, but now with your classes coming up, you don’t think you could ignore him in public.

This was simply a problem for future you. Currently you needed to get to library to get some assignments done. As always, every seat was taken. It took you a bit of walking down to reach a longer table, meant for 4 people. A person sat at the end of it, and you decided to leave a seat free between you two as you sat down.

As you carefully got your laptop out, you threw a glance at the person. Holy shit, it is the butch you went on a date with. Now you feel nervous. Of course, you just had to meet her again. Well, meet is a big word, you simply will ignore her.

With sweaty hands you rummaged through your bag, looking for the charger. You quietly swore under your breath, you just had to forget it back at home. You could use up the last of your battery, but you also have classes. Maybe you will just call it a day, see this as a sign form the universe and go home and lie down for the rest of the day.

A hand came up in your vision, with a fitting charger in hand. “Here, you can use mine.” Came her soft voice.

“Oh! Thanks.” You whispered back, totally embarrassed.

She nodded her head. As you plugged in the charger and your laptop, you saw her glancing at you. You decided to not react to that, but she kept talking to you. “How are things?”

You bounced your leg up and down, “Uhm, good? I guess. How about you?” Politeness forced you to continue talking with her.

“I am fine. I heard you are going out with Adam?” She leaned her elbow on the table, peering at you with curiosity.

You seriously should’ve just stayed home. “Not anymore.” It feels like a confession, like not even Adam liked to stay with you.

“What? Really? How did he fuck it up?” She chuckled.

Shrugging your shoulders was easier than to say it was probably you. You are the fuck up. You pressed your tongue against your teeth, and pulled up the courage to talk to her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“…Why, why didn’t you like our first date? Was it something I said or—”

Her eyes widened in shock. “No! I loved our first date, I swear. You were very cute and funny.”

“Then, why? I mean you looked at your phone and the whole energy shifted.” You frowned.

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t tell you.” Her eyes were focused on her own screen.

“Ugh! Please? I am getting so frustrated, my dates work out basically never. I just want to know what I need to fix.” Your fingers impatiently drummed down on the table.

She sighed, “I can’t speak for your other dates, but for me.” She made a vague movement with her hands. “Adam might or might not have threatened me that I will get kicked off of the team if I keep dating you.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “No. No way.”

“I swear to God.” Her hand landed on her heart.

“You are lying.” Because that was just crazy.

She pulled out her phone, and scrolled up. The chat was between her and Adam. Most of it was basic, training plans and party dates. Nothing personal. Until the damning message: if you know whats good for your spot on the team, you will drop that date.

Your finger clicked on his picture, and sure enough, that was Adam’s fucking phone number. It was a real chat, with his real number, a real message he sent.

“What is wrong with him?” You looked at her for help.

“He is weird like that.” She just sighed and put her phone back.

You felt simply overwhelmed. So, you practically yanked the charger out off the plug and gave it back to the girl. You packed your stuff, and drove home. All you need is a nap.

If you could, you would skip class for the rest of the year. Sadly, this professor was really serious about his attendance. You needed to keep your days in case you really get sick.

So, you get there as late as possible and sit in the back. You saw the back of Adam’s head, but it didn’t seem like he noticed you. He kept looking around, and every time a student entered he looked up, but it wasn’t you, so he seemed to visibly deflate.

Once the class was finally over, you were quick to bolt. Sadly for you, Adam is like a blood hound. He immediately recognised your figure and he was hot on your trail.

“Why are you ghosting me?” Came his question, as his long legs easily caught up to you.

“I am not!” You lied through your teeth. All you had to do was get to the parking lot as fast as you could. You were already outside, the sun shining down on you.

“Why are you ghosting and lying to me?” His voice was filled with anger, it practically made the air shake.

Finally, you stood by your car. Your hand was in your bag, looking for your keys. “Leave me alone.”

Adam’s hand wrapped around your shoulder and he forced you to turn around. You looked into his face. “I fucking won’t. What got your stupid panties in a twist?”

The anger, and in a way fear, you felt was paralysing. “I just want to be left alone.” You hissed out.

“I don’t buy that shit.” Adam frowned. “Come on, baby, you can’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

You pressed your lips together. “Why won’t you kiss me?” That was safer than asking him about apparently ruining your dating life.

Adam didn’t expect that question. “Because…” He scratched his neck.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright.” You finally found your keys and pressed the button to unlock your car.

Adam’s eyes flew open at the sound, “Stop! Fuck. Alright, I wanted to take things slow since you are…you know.” His eyes shifted away from your face, as if he didn’t want to embarrass you.

You squinted your eyes at him. “I am what?”

“You are a virgin, and no shame, I fuck with that, but I wanted to take things slow—” Adam kept rambling.

“What is your issue? Why are you trying to make decision for me? I can consent to whatever the fuck I want. Do not infantilise me!” You pushed your hand against Adam’s chest, forcing him to step back.

“Well, fuck me for being considerate!” Adam scoffed.

“You are the opposite of considerate! Who do you think you are, messing with my dates?!” You blurted out.

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Who fucking told you?”

“Oh, so it happened multiple times. Thanks for the conformation!” Your hand grasped your car door handle, ready to open it.

“Don’t be so damn dramatic, they were all losers! Me? I am the real fucking deal, baby.” Adam seemed borderline hysterical.

“Stay away from me, Adam. You clearly don’t respect me. Get your Madonna Whore complex in order, before you try dating again.” You opened your door, and Adam way quick to shut it again.

He leaned into you, his hand pressed against your car door and you felt his body heat against your own. “What do you want me to do? I can totally say sorry, but like, we could also go kiss if you want it so badly.”

“Step away from me.” You pressed yourself closer to the car. The fact that a kiss did sound nice mad you feel dizzy and like you didn’t have a backbone. “I will scream.”

“No, you won’t—”

“FIRE!” Is what you yell out. You could see heads turn and Adam’s eyes widen in shock.

“You are a whore anyways!” He threw his hands up, and finally left you.