#casusone

          … lonely.   a  scoff  just  about  leaps  out  of  her,   held  back  only  by  his  misplaced  genuineness.   from  her  spot  sat  underneath  the  tree — back  pressed  against  the  trunk,  bent  knees  to  her  chest — she  glances  over  at  the  others  surrounding  the  glowing  campfire.   with  the  distance  she  deliberately  put  in  between  herself  and  them,   she  can  only  imagine  what  they  must  be  talking  about.   scattered  memories?   idle  gossip?   as  if  it  really  matters.

          ❝  yeah,   i’m  fine,  ❞   she  tears  her  eyes  away  from  the  group,   though  not  to  meet  his  gaze,   instead  seemingly  finding  more  interest  in  the  stagnant,   wild  grass.   ❝  just  didn’t  feel  like  being  social  tonight.   should  i  have  gotten  your  permission  first,   or  something?  ❞

          she  hadn’t  meant  to  leave  him  alone  with  the  killer.   honest!   it’s  simply  an  unfortunate  coincidence  that’s …   exactly  what  ended  up  happening.   

          mi - kyung  did  not  consider  herself  to  be  a  particularly  guiding  presence.   never  sought  after — at  worst,   actively  avoided.   and  this  was  fine.   she  would  take  care  of  herself  first  and  foremost,   by  herself.   the  others  knew  well  enough  how  things  operate here.   would  not  flock  to  her  with  flighty  demands  she  cannot  and  will  not  supply.   

          so  when  the  responsibility  of  shepherding  a  new  lost  sheep  back  from  hellish  pasture  befell  upon  her  for  the  evening,   it  did  not  necessarily  inspire  confidence.   she  found  him  there,   someone  she  had  never  seen  before.   confused.   out - of - place.   not  unlike  herself  just   ███  before.   oh,   great.   she’s  on  the  welcoming  committee.   but,   god,  she  had  tried!   gentle  in  approach,   clear  in  explanation.   even  when  it  felt  silly  to  metaphorically  hold  a  grown  man’s  hand  when  he  easily  could  have  found  a  better  teacher.   and  the  generator  she  showed  him  how  to  fix  would  have  been  completed  if  someone  hadn’t  intervened. 

          a  command  to  run.   she  went  left.   he  went  right.   and the  killer  made  a  decision.

          did  she  feel  a  little  bad  she  had  basically  let  them  harass  the  new  guy  instead  of  her when she could've prevented that?   yes!  it’s  not  like  she  was  trying  to  get  him  murdered.

          … would  she  do  differently  if  given  the  opportunity?   well,  she  had  to  protect  herself,   too.   

          chance  was  inside  the  chapel  now — that’s  where  she  spotted  him  after  the  fact.   alone.   perhaps  not  unscathed,   but  in  one  piece.   ignoring  the  pang  of  guilt  resonating  within,   she  rushes  over.   ❝  hey!   hey,   you  got  away.  that — that’s  good.  ❞   she  presents  the  first - aid  kit.   offers  a  nervous  smile.  ❝  i - i’m sorry  we  got  separated —  are  you  hurt?  ❞   do  you  totally  hate  me  already? because you have to understand that wasn't entirely my fault.

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse --

"An' what do you think you're doin', darlin'?" Kate asked calmly, her Southern lilt as sweet as honey. She came up from behind Chance, brow raised and arms crossed over the other. She wasn't mad by any means. Actually, she was quite amused.

MACABRE — BLOOD

SHIT--

Meg inwardly cursed her luck getting stuck with the newbie. Not that it was his fault. She just wasn't good at this sort of thing like Claudette or Kate would be. Hell even Dwight might have been a better choice with all his knowledge. Just anyone but her.