#maleficmuse

Misery loved company and it had latched onto her like she was the last life preserver on a sinking ship. It didn’t even bother to ask if she knew how to swim before imbedding it’s talons in the deepest parts of her. As long as they were together, Misery was perfectly content allowing her to drown. And days like today, she was inclined to let it pull her under.

Sy’s house was dark as she sat alone in his closet, clutching his favorite red t-shirt to her chest. Nothing could be heard except the soft hiccups of her quiet sobs and the distant cackling of Misery, who was more than happy to see her finally accept it’s company.

It had been a week since she and Sy had spoken, leaving her unsettled mind unable to do anything but obsess over their last conversation.

Three little words. Three specific little words was all it took to obliterate almost a decade of friendship and crush two hearts that were already held together by threads.

She had always worried those words would disturb the comfort and easiness she and Sy had together, but she never would’ve imagined them being the beginning of the end.

Sy snorted as he snatched the remote from her hand, not caring what was on the next channel as long as it wasn’t the news. They were both four beers deep, passing a bottle of Jack between the two of them, and he wasn’t about to let her anxiety take hold and ruin her night.

“Come on,” she complained. “I wanna see the new anchor lady. She’s really hot.”

Sy shook his head, giggling. He giggled when he was drunk—and only when he was drunk. It was one of her favorite things about him. In a state of sobriety, the decorated army captain would never own up to it, but she knew. She thought about that giggle when she was upset or angry, or hell, when she was just missing him. Even the thought of it never ceased to make her feel lighter.

And it was that giggle that prompted her eyes to brighten and a goofy smile to settle upon her lips as she unconsciously whispered the words she swore she never would.

“Fuck, I love you, Sy.”

She had to have imagined that scenario a million times since they’d known one another. He’d either say it back and they’d live happily ever after or he’d let her down easy and they’d awkwardly ignore it for the rest of their lives. But she got neither of those responses.

A deafening silence settled uncomfortably in the room, Misery peeking around the kitchen corner to watch as dread took over.

She was just as shocked as Sy was to hear those words out in the open. Normally, she didn’t allow herself to even think them in his presence for fear of being betrayed by her big fat mouth. Unfortunately, her drunk mind didn’t get that memo.

They had both sobered up at her confession, but neither of them seemed to know how to move forward. Her mouth opened as if she had something else to say, but her brain had short circuited once the weight of the situation set in. She just sat there, staring stupidly at Sy like she was expecting him to know what came next.

He broke eye contact, his chest deflating as he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He should’ve been happy to hear her say that—to hear her say the words he dreamt of hearing for years, but instead panic flooded his chest as his heart began beating erratically. He had wanted to wait, damn it.

“I love you too,” he admitted softly. “But I didn’t wanna say anything yet, darlin’.”

Confusion passed over her face, her brows knitting together as she waited impatiently for him to continue.

“I’m leavin’.”

Her world stopped. He swore in nearly every letter and a million times more once he returned that he wasn’t going back. He promised her that the last time was really the last time. And now he was leaving in just over a week.

“I want you, baby. I’ve always wanted you. But it ain’t fair of me to ask you to wait.”

Her face felt hot and her stomach dropped so quickly she felt sick. Misery giggled from the doorway, delighting in the way Sy’s words echoed in her head, waiting for it’s time to take over. The idea of him going away again made her unbearably nauseous. She couldn’t stand not knowing if he was going to come back home to her.

“How long?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“How long have you known?” She clarified.

Sy dodged her penetrating gaze as he fiddled with the label of the whiskey bottle in his hand. He knew he fucked up. He’d known he was fucking up for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to obliterate the sense of security he knew she felt when deployment wasn’t hanging over their time together.

“Awhile,” he finally admitted.

“And you didn’t think that was something you should tell me?”

Her tone was unnervingly calm. Sy could count the number of times he’d heard her use it on one hand and it always resulted in an explosion. His next words had better be the right ones if he wanted to defuse the bomb. Cut the wrong wire and there’d be nothing left behind but broken hearts and a shattered friendship.

“Of course I was gonna tell ya. I was just…waitin’ on the right time.”

“So you waited until the fucking week before you disappear for god knows how long to fucking tell me?”

Wrong wire.

Tears blurred her vision as she recalled the agony on his face, wishing more than anything that she could take it all back. But she’d been too late. The venom she spat lingered on her tongue and the memory of his pleading eyes tugged at her heart. She wished she would’ve exerted more self control in that moment, but his confession had her seeing red. It was bad enough that he’d broken his promise to retire, but waiting until the last minute to say anything had practically set her on fire.

After days of silence and countless sleepless nights, she finally psyched herself up to apologize for the name calling and her hateful words, hoping he would at least hear her out. She’d waited a week for fear that Sy wouldn’t want to see her again after the tantrum she threw that night. But by the time she decided she couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him without knowing she didn’t actually hate him, his house was dark, his driveway was empty, and his army duffle no longer sat at the bottom of the hallway closet.

“Don’t expect me to be here when you get back, Sy.”

Her entire body ached like she’d been hit by a goddamn train. There was a faint burning in her chest, a dull pounding in her head, and a sense of overall heaviness weighing down her limbs. She was vaguely aware of the soft sound of what seemed to be waves crashing and the chirping of birds in the distance, reminding her of nights spent near the ocean on her travels where she’d walk the beach. But she didn’t remember planning a flight anywhere near a coast and she certainly wasn’t on vacation.

The longer she laid there, listening, hoping for any sound of familiarity, she became aware of a brightening light accompanied by a rising warmth. With great effort, she reluctantly pried her eyes open to take in her surroundings, only to be met by an unidentifiable orange-tinged sky. There were few clouds hovering above, some of them a soft gray, but other than that things seemed to be clear, indicating a soon-to-be sunny morning.

For a moment, her mind slowly began to mull over the previous night’s events, bringing them back to the forefront of her memory as she remained entranced by the few fluffy puffs passing above. But she didn’t remain enamored for long as the information clicked into place.

“No.”

She groaned, closing her eyes once more, hoping to will the bad images away, wanting nothing more than to wake up in a soft, cool hotel bed of the city she was supposed to be staying in.

The rustling of foliage nearby captured her attention, causing panic to shoot through her. Her chest tightened and an invisible weight settled upon her sternum, seemingly pushing all the air from her lungs and making it difficult to draw in another breath. Mustering all of her strength, she rolled to her stomach, digging her hands into the warm sand beneath her as she tried to push herself up.

This isn’t happening.

On her knees, she took in her surroundings, a sense of shock and disbelief settling deep within her bones.

“Hey, you’re awake,” a gentle voice prodded.

She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge whoever it was, her brain still trying to sift through the carnage of the previous night. A hand rested gently on her shoulder and her body reacted violently as she whipped her head around to finally see her companion, practically throwing herself back on her ass.

“Woah, it’s alright, darling.”

His hair was a mess and his clothes rumpled. He looked tired and somehow completely alert. His hands were outstretched in front of him as if he were trying to settle a wild animal.

“Henry Cavill,” she croaked.

Oh, this is definitely a fucking dream.

He smiled half heartedly, relieved her head injury hadn’t seemed to affect her memory.

“Yes. And you’re Becca.”

She stared at him stupidly for a moment, nothing but disbelief running through her muddled mind.

“Bec,” she finally corrected.

“Sorry?”

“Just Bec. Not Becca.”

He nodded in understanding. “Right, sorry.”

The confusion written on her face worried him a bit, though Henry would admit he himself had woken up quite disoriented.

“Where are we?”

His cheeks puffed out as he huffed, eyes darting into the forest behind her.

“Appears to be a deserted island, I suppose. I was contemplating a bit of exploration before you came to.”

Henry had been awake much longer than Bec had, allowing him the time to set aside his shock and begin planning.

“No.”

His brows knitted together, not sure what she meant.

“No,” she repeated louder.

She scrambled to her feet, ignoring her achy limbs as she stumbled to the raft nearby, throwing herself against it as she stared out at the open ocean.

“No! No! No!” She cried.

She whacked the side of the raft harshly, using it as a means to take out her anger.

“Bec-“

“No!”

Bec whirled around to face Henry, seeming to make herself a bit dizzy, as she struggled to keep herself upright.

“What the fuck is this?”

Henry’s eyes grew large, seeming confused by her outburst and the implied accusation that he might have had something to do with the entire thing.

“What is this?” She repeated. “This is some kind of sick fucking joke, right? So, where the fuck are the cameras?”

“Cameras? I-“

She stormed past him, going to stand beneath the little shade provided by the trees, her hands reaching out to begin smacking different plants and bushes violently.

Henry watched on in horror, unsure how to handle the situation. He hadn’t wanted to believe it either, but he definitely hadn’t gone and thrown a fit over it. He kept having to remind himself that they’d gone through a traumatic event and while he went straight into problem-solving mode, not everyone was the same. Some people panicked. Which was exactly what Bec seemed to be doing.

Her palm made contact with the trunk of the nearest tree, pain radiating up her arm. She quickly brought her hand to her chest, swearing loudly.

“Son of a bitch!”

She spun in a circle, her cheeks puffing out with a harsh exhale of breath. Tears pricked the edges of her vision as she sunk slowly to her knees, cradling her injured hand.

Henry’s gaze softened upon seeing her anguish, making him wish, not just for his sake, but for her’s, that he could erase the events of the previous night. He approached her tentatively, squatting down in front of her, hoping to catch her attention.

Gesturing to her hand, he broke his silence. “Mind if I have a look?”

Without much thought, Bec held it out to him, a detached expression now settled upon her features.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered, her voice seeming hollow and distant.

Gently, Henry held her wrist to examine her palm, seeing a few scuffs, but no blood or splinters.

“Nothing seems broken, love. You’ll be alright.”

He held her there, observing her as her mind disconnected from reality. She didn’t even acknowledge when he swiped the tears from her cheeks. It was like she had been there moments ago and had suddenly vanished.

“Bec?” He prodded.

Nothing.

“Why don’t we go a bit further in the shade, get you some water and a bite to eat?”

Bec still didn’t respond, but Henry was determined to at least get her to drink something. He pulled her up by her waist, her limbs working on auto pilot to stumble alongside him until he sat her down at the base of a palm tree.

When he returned from the raft with a bottle of water and a packet of the non-perishable food from the emergency kit, Henry sat with his legs crossed. Her eyes never came back into focus, but she did take a sip from the bottle when he lifted it to her chapped lips.

“You want to try to eat something, darling?”

He held out a small piece of jerky, but she didn’t take it.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said, popping it in his own mouth. “Tastes like shit.”

A flock of seagulls circled overhead, drawing Henry’s attention to the shore. The waves crashed softly against the white sandy beach, the ocean a bright, crystal clear blue. It was something out of an expensive resort brochure.

“You know this place might actually be quite nice if the circumstances were different.”

The greenery rustled as a cool sea breeze swept around them, carrying the pleasant salty scent of the ocean along with it.

“I planned to spend my vacation back home with my family, but I suppose a secluded paradise isn’t half bad.”

His chest ached at the thought of his loved ones. He’d already gone so long without having spent any time with them and now it was unclear if he’d ever see them again.

“If you can forget the fact that we’re stranded here with limited provisions and no way home,” he added bitterly.

He stayed with her for awhile, the poor girl unmoving and unresponsive to any further attempts at conversation. When it didn’t seem his presence at her side was necessary, Henry decided it was time to get a few essentials set up for them before they lost the light.

Bec, still caught in her own mind, observed him as he went about building a shelter for the two of them, seeing, but not comprehending what he was doing. It was like her brain knew that allowing her to understand the reason behind his efforts would send her spiraling once more.

Henry gathered palm leaves and smaller tree stems to start building something that would at least keep the sun off them during the day and shield them from any potential rain that might ensue. He tore the leaves into strips to tie the stems together in order to create a small platform that he could throw the tarp provided in the raft’s emergency kit over. All those survival videos he spent so much time watching online were really coming in handy.

Standing back to admire his work, Henry wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling somewhat proud of himself. He always hoped that if he were ever unfortunate enough to be put in such a situation, he would be able to take charge and do what he needed to in order to stay alive. Of course, a shelter didn’t ensure their survival, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.

His eyes fell to the base of the tree Bec still rested under, wondering how long it would take her to come out of her shock. He felt awful, knowing one couldn’t put a timeline on such things, but a small, selfish part of him couldn’t fathom being stuck there, for god knows how long, taking care of someone else.

Scenes from the movie ‘Cast Away’ flashed in his mind, the idea of him being Tom Hanks with Bec as his Wilson, making him snort. While the idea was somewhat comical, he really did hope she wouldn’t turn out to be his unsettling volleyball friend.

Next: TBD.

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The internet often likened him to Adonis. Anytime she caught even the smallest glimpse of her man in all his naked glory, she was inclined to agree. Henry was blessed with rippling pectorals and bulging muscles on nearly every part of his body—she’d checked. To say he was mouthwateringly gorgeous was an understatement. But many failed to acknowledge just how soft and squishy Henry could be. That man was endearingly sweet and wickedly intelligent in a way most overlooked due to his sharp jawline and piercing baby blues.

As he lay in bed, sheets half thrown on the floor and mouth hanging open as he snored obnoxiously, his love couldn’t help but smile to herself. She stood in the doorway, wrapped in his robe with a steaming cup of coffee, watching his furry chest rise and fall with each breath. She couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to call that giant teddy bear hers.

Fuck, she was in deep.

Taking a long sip of her drink, she tiptoed to the edge of the bed and crawled in next to him. The tips of her fingers ghosted across his jaw before making their way into his messy curls. She massaged his scalp softly, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

It was rare she was awake before him, so she never really got the time to admire how relaxed he looked while he was dreaming.

His eyelids fluttered as he let out an audible groan and turned on his side to seek out her warmth. She giggled quietly as he threw a heavy thigh over her waist and buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply before allowing sleep to take him once more.

The hand not in his hair moved to rub slow circles between his shoulder blades. It was taking everything in her power not to cry at the overwhelming love that bloomed in her chest every time he snuggled into her like that.

From what she could gather about his previous relationship, Henry was made to feel bad for being clingy and needy. If she could, she’d bash that bitch’s face in for making her sweet bear insecure about showing his affection.

With his work, their time together was extremely limited and if he wanted to attach himself to her in the few precious moments they had, she was more than happy to let him.

He stirred the tiniest bit, squeezing her body against his own.

Her lips made work of placing tender kisses across his face causing him to groan and clutch the back of the robe she wore as his pelvis lazily began thrusting against her hip.

Intimacy was a huge turn on for Henry. Sometimes seemingly small things like head scratches or cuddles were enough to make him absolutely feral. It seemed sleepy Henry was no different.

With a devilish grin, she sucked a bruise just below his ear, using her tongue to soothe his sensitive skin as soon as it began to tint purple.

He hummed, his thrusts becoming steadier as his thick cock became painfully hard for her.

She nipped at his exposed shoulder, eliciting a gentle, “Love, please,” from him.

Lightly, she pressed him onto his back, and straddled his lap where his hands instinctively lifted to caress her thighs.

His enchanting blue eyes opened to stare up at her, a sleepy smile overtaking his charming face.

“I think this is the best wake-up call I’ve ever received,” he murmured.

Her eyebrow quirked upwards slightly as she smirked, rubbing her hands over his furry chest.

“Well, here at Hotel Hell we aim to please, Mr. Cavill.”

A sudden cackle echoed around them as Henry burst into laughter, shaking his head lovingly at her shenanigans.

“More like Hotel Heaven, angel.”

She grinned, reaching down to move her robe out of the way as she placed his swollen cock between her folds and began grinding herself up and down his length, coating him in her slick.

Henry groaned, his face scrunching up in pleasure, watching her hips roll enticingly. He extended a shaky hand to untie the only piece of clothing getting in the way of his view, his breath hitching at the sight of her gorgeous form atop him.

“Fuck, love, if this is how every morning is going to be, I’m never letting you go home.”

“Let me? You gonna hold me hostage, Hen?” She teased.

“If I must,” he admitted with a heavy exhale.

Her hips sped up momentarily only to slow back down when she got a deep growl in return. Henry was incredibly responsive in bed, never one to shy away from letting her know just how euphoric she made him feel. It made her feel powerful and sexy in a way she never thought was possible.

Henry tenderly grabbed her bicep, bringing her down for their first proper kiss of the day. He sucked harshly on her bottom lip before gently requesting entrance into her intoxicating mouth with his tongue. She allowed him in and immediately groaned as he explored her mouth and moved a hand down to her pert ass to move her a bit faster.

His pillow-soft lips trailed down her jaw, aiming straight for the sensitive spot where her neck met her collarbone. She gripped the pillow behind his head for dear life when one of his large hands came up to fondle her breast and pinch her nipple.

“No more teasing, my love,” Henry demanded huskily.

If the bastard hadn’t known her weak spots, she would’ve been able to stretch out her fun like she had originally planned, but her resolve had begun slipping the moment he opened her robe and looked at her like she was the most exquisite creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

Raising up to place a hand steadily on his chest, she held his silky cock between her fingers and glided the leaking head over herself. She placed the tip just inside her entrance and leisurely sunk down until her aching clit met his pelvis.

Henry grumbled a few expletives while she paused, reveling in the euphoric way he stretched her.

“Darling, please,” he pleaded. “Fucking move.”

She refrained from giggling at how fucked out he looked already and did as he asked.

The languid pace she set was enough to drive Henry to madness. He considered rolling her onto her back and fucking her into next week, but the sight of her heavenly tits bouncing as she rotated her hips was enough for him to decide the view was much better from below. He slid his knuckles teasingly towards her center, allowing the tip of his thumb to kiss her swollen clit before moving upwards to grasp both of her beautiful mounds in his palms.

“Fuck, Hen,” she huffed. “You’re so fucking deep.”

Henry growled as her velvet walls tightened around him, his eyes straying from her face to the place where their bodies met.

The obscene squelching combined with the sight of his hard cock disappearing inside her warm cavern almost made him blow prematurely.

“Faster, love, please,” he begged.

She shook her head, reaching one of her smaller hands up to clasp his fingers tighter around her tit.

“No. I wanna feel you.”

Against his wishes, she slowed her already unhurried pace, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the bliss of his tip massaging the sensitive spot only he was able to reach.

“Feels so good, baby. You always fill me up so fucking good.”

Henry’s patience was slowly draining. While he enjoyed the sight of her using his body to get herself off, he wanted her to cum. He wanted to feel her body tense as soft mews of pleasure escaped her perfect lips and her sopping wet cunt fluttered around him just the way he liked. He wanted to watch as her hips lost control once she finally reached that high and began rutting against him with reckless abandon.

He’d make love to her later.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Henry sat straight up, capturing her mouth with his in an attempt to momentarily distract her while he repositioned. He brought his legs underneath him, sitting back on his haunches while he pushed himself impossibly further into her wet heat.

She whined, bringing her arms around his broad shoulders.

Henry stilled her movements, pressing her down almost painfully onto his thick cock. Her walls were pulsating around him, struggling with the gratifying sting that came when he split her open. He swore he could feel her heartbeat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, thrusting upwards. His pace started off as slow as hers had been, but there was power behind each inclination of his hips.

With each deep push into her aching cunt, her breathing became more ragged, a clear sign she was getting close.

Henry gripped her ass firmly, holding her above him as his hips began pistoning rapidly, desperate to feel her clench around him, milking his own impending orgasm.

She cried out in both pleasure and pain. The tip of his cock brushed against her g-spot with each thrust just before it rammed painfully against her cervix.

“Rub your clit for me, sweetheart,” Henry commanded. “I want you to come with me.”

As soon as her fingers found her sensitive bud, her legs began shaking and the walls of her weeping cunt shuddered around Henry. His eyes slammed shut and his head fell forward to rest on her clavicle, a guttural moan escaping him.

“Come with me, love.”

Her nails dug into his shoulder and she came with a cry, her hips grinding roughly against his as she rode out her orgasm. The way she clenched around him, choking his cock in her intoxicating softness, sent him over the edge.

She sighed in contentment when she felt his warm seed coat her quivering walls thinking she’d never been happier than she was in that moment.

Henry laid back, keeping her as close as physically possible while they both struggled to catch their breath. Their pants turned to satisfied sighs and his love reached a hand up to bury her fingers in his silky curls once more.

She lifted her head to give him a dazzling smile and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead. She felt those three little words that had been dancing in the back of her mind for the last few weeks bubble up to the surface, but she couldn’t get them out quite yet.

With a soft kiss to his plump lips and a quiet hum, she rested against his furry chest and drifted back into a peaceful slumber, his spent cock still buried balls deep.

Henry smiled, reaching carefully for the discarded sheets, knowing she’d wake shivering if he didn’t trap their body heat. She snuggled closer, causing him to chuckle. She often claimed she wasn’t a touchy person, but in Henry’s experience, his girl was extremely cuddly. He loved that there was a softer side of her reserved especially for him.

“I love you, darling,” he whispered, placing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

All he received in return was her even breathing, but he knew, even if she hadn’t said it yet, that she loved him too.

The first time Henry laid eyes on her, he swore he’d never seen such beauty. Her smile was breath taking and her laugh rang out across the room, calling to him like a siren luring in a lost sailor. Henry was a romantic at heart. And while the idea of love at first sight often seemed far fetched, he’d tell the story of that moment for the rest of his life.

It was as if time ceased to exist and his vision was tunneled to allow him to see her and only her. He’d gone back to his trailer that night and phoned his mum to tell her he’d met the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He just knew somehow.

Now, as Henry lay entangled with his ethereal beauty, he worried he might not have much more time with her. He loved her fiercely and without hesitation, but she seemed to have a lot of reservations about him. She said he was too good to be true; too kind, too attentive, too enraptured by her. Her troubled mind told her it was only a matter of time before he lost interest or realized she was too fucked up to be worth the effort. They always did.

Henry stroked her hair lovingly as she slept soundly on his chest, praying to whoever might be listening that the woman he admired would just let him love her. It wasn’t just past relationships coming to haunt her, but a traumatic childhood and a family who never wanted her for who she was. The idea that someone might actually want her, flaws and insecurities, good days and bad, was unimaginable to her.

His anxiety was telling him he was bound to get his heart broken by this extraordinary woman if he couldn’t find a way to make her see how much she was actually worth.

A soft sigh brought Henry out of his thoughts and he looked down at her with an adoring smile. He reached a hand up to ghost his knuckles across her cheek and leaned down to place a loving kiss on her forehead. She hummed in contentment, her delicate fingers beginning to twirl the dark fur on his chest absentmindedly as she slowly began clearing the sleepy fog from her mind.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispered.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

They laid there for a while longer, Henry rubbing his thumb over her exposed hip as they basked in the comforting silence of the morning.

His love raised her head and squinted her eyes at the clock on his bedside table to see the time. She groaned before snuggling herself impossibly closer into Henry’s warmth.

“Have you been up long?” She asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“No, darling. Just let the bear out not too long ago.”

She hummed again. “I’m surprised you haven’t left for your morning workout. It’s late for you.”

Henry placed another kiss on her forehead.

“Wanted to lay here just a bit longer. Quite peaceful, having you here.”

“Peaceful,” she chuckled. “Something no one has ever used to describe my presence.”

“Then I’m happy to be the first, love.”

Her neck craned back to look at his handsome face, taking in the stubble on his chin and the sleepiness still evident in his eyes. He was always ridiculously sweet and kind to her, but morning Henry seemed softer somehow. He smiled at her, causing her cheeks to instantly warm and she buried her head into his neck once more. The way he looked at her sent tingles throughout her entire body and she was never sure what to do with that feeling. The love she had for him was all consuming and overwhelming at times. It made her want to squeeze the life out of him. And it also scared her a whole hell of a lot. But she wouldn’t allow those thoughts to ruin the serenity of their morning. She wanted to bathe in his love for as long as he’d allow her to have it.

She just didn’t yet know he’d willingly follow her to the ends of the earth, so his unending love and devotion was already unquestionably her’s. And Henry was more than prepared to spend the rest of his life proving that to her.

Tranquil. That’s how she would’ve described the moments after the crash. As odd as it sounded, there was a calm that settled around her when she was suddenly submerged in the salty water of the Atlantic Ocean. Everything had been so painfully loud and she had spent the better part of the seemingly endless panic desperate for a breather. While she was provided with no oxygen, she was at least awarded the quiet she craved.

Her vision was bleary, but she was coherent enough to be able to hone into the open back of the plane that was pointed towards the sky, giving her a distorted view of the boundless night. The stars always brought a sense of peace to her usually hectic life. She was glad it would be the last thing she saw before being consumed by the soothing stillness of death’s sweet release.

She was resigned to surrendering to it’s icy clutches, but there was still something anchoring her to the present. A ghost of warmth, possibly a hand, touched her cheek, but she was too tired to allow it to ruin her state of serenity. The adrenaline of the previous hysteria was waning and all she could focus on was rest. When it came to her anxiety, she had a habit of simply choosing to sleep rather than deal with her problems.

A tugging sensation around her pelvis made her eyebrows knit in confusion. All she wanted was to be left alone—to fade into oblivion and cocoon herself in the all encompassing darkness she was so close to touching, but it seemed fate would not allow it.

Her eyes began to refocus, bewilderment painting her delicate features. After a few moments, it was like she was propelled back into her body at lightening speed and she was instantly aware of the burning in her chest as her lungs begged for air. A dark figure floated in front of her and one quick glimpse of his face was enough to snap her back to reality.

Plane. Crash. Panic.

The figure was wrestling with her seatbelt, yanking harshly at the clasp as the plane continued its descent into the murky depths of the ocean.

Fear settled in the pit of her stomach and her brain, now pulling away from the acceptance of her demise, kicked into overdrive. Her hands flew to the belt, clutching at the unforgiving material, desperate for the buckle to come undone. And just when she remembered the pair of scissors kept in the attendant’s box under the sink, an ear-splitting screech reverberated around them as the plane made impact with the ocean floor. The figure’s head slammed into her’s, her vision blurring once more as she gazed back at the hazy moon above.

Next: Day 01

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