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After the riots, there was no exciting build-up to this full moon. Everything was tense, way too quiet. Just one spark of disagreement could set the whole thing off again. Men who had acted like brothers now cut each other dead in corridors. Nobody cleaned the dried blood outside my room. Burgundy handprints swiping down, men still limping around on makeshift crutches.Waking up to another piece of paper under my door didn’t help. ‘I AM WATCHING, MY ANGEL, DO NOT FORGET’ in a ragged, cursive script. Who the hell thinks I’m their angel? What are they watching anyway. Me being terrified. Or perhaps they didn't like Cyrus in my room. Or maybe it's Cyrus disliking Raze’s interest in me.It seems others are receiving notes. Maybe this letter writer is just out to gaslight us all for some ulterior motive. It’s gameplay at it’s cruellest. I don’t want it to be the hazel-eyed Cyrus, but he’s the most mysterious. Perhaps he has the opportunity? Worryingly, the new writing is too jagged to
This is a complete and utter fuck up. She was never meant to know it was me. I took one too many chances.I’ve done my best to keep my distance. Followed every order. Allowed the other Rogues to form their own impression of me. It’s mostly wrong, but not all of it. I am dangerous. Too much of me is tainted to ever be made into a good man. So why did I follow her when she placed her hand in mine? My brain tells me I need to work out who sabotaged the lights first. Make my excuses and leave. Except all I can see is Mireille. I’ve adored her body enough in the dark to form an image in my head for when I stand alone in silence. Her bare, womanly shape was more enticing and beautiful than I’d dared to imagine, except she’s covered in blood. Blood I spilled, a painfully familiar sight.Ryan and Sven, have I killed them? Do I even care considering how they were behaving? Not really. She opens her door and guides me back into her tiny little room. “Come in,” she whispers, the slight trem
“For one night. I…I want to call you mine,” he said. Well we both know one night won’t be enough.I’ve not only chosen to sleep with him, I’m pretty sure I’ve signed up to be some kind of undercover, traitorous rebel as well. To be honest I could have agreed to give him a lung, kidney and leg. I was that deranged with lust. The instant I knew something was going to happen between, life transformed into a heated, out of body experience.Laid together panting on the floor of the cell block, the step we had chosen to take loomed ominously large. “Hey, you with me?” Cal grunts softly. Pretending he's cool with one night, leaving my choices open. I know he is trying to stop me feeling guilty. It only makes me fall deeper.“Stuck with you,” I grin. I rolled onto my side, my head on his shoulder, his arm trailed down my spine. The sensation of his fingertips tracing patterns down my bare skin made me nuzzle in closer. My own fingers tease the fine, soft hair that covered his chest, down
After the full moon, I lie in my lonely bed and replay every precious minute, pad in hand.My simple sketches are random snatches of thoughts. Just the curve of her shoulder, the way her hair falls. I don't have a clue what I'm doing, but I'm trying.I kid myself it's good practice. A way to pass time. Rather than admit the truth. I'm preparing myself something to remember her by when this Freeze is over. After all, out of sight is out of mind. We both know that when Ryan stands in front of her, it could all disintegrate.I might be a fool for her, but I'm not naive.As the week wears on, it seems like Hope and I got away with it. Which only seems to give Vera the impression she has a chance.The leaders and pilgrims were all tucked up sound asleep whilst we found each other. Vera thinks I was shut away in the cells alone. Pining for female attention. Unfortunately, she's promising to make sure I'm not lonely next time. I need to wriggle out of that one promptly.Hope's new tactics
I wasn’t entirely surprised to wake up after the full moon alone. Realising Cyrus was the man in the dark of the black space had been a hell of a moment. When the lights went on and he was right there, there was no clothing to hide his huge frame, every muscle tensed and fixated on me. I could have died.But I already miss feeling utterly weightless in his arms. My body melded around his huge shape. I loved how massive every feature of him is. Trying to wrap my legs around his waist left me so splayed out my sex had rubbed mercilessly against his rigid v-line. My hands barely covered all of his cheeks.He oozed pure strength, combined with an earthy, unquestionable sexiness that meant I could no longer look away. To make him crack and finally admit there was something between us was electrifying. But now I need more. I want to know all about his tattoos, the scars on his body, what brought him here. Why is he so quiet? Has he received any notes?Now he knows it was me every moon, wil
Of course I heard her screaming. Every single time. What the hell am I meant to do? I’d done my best to try and give Raze the impression I didn’t care about her, yet he’s still testing me. I slam my hands against the wall, blood dripping down from my drenched arms as Sven moans incoherently.He’s wanting me to crack. Raze is always dancing two steps ahead of me.. He compared us to the tortoise and the hare at our so-called reunion, outside the gates. Me the lumbering idiot, him the quick-witted wonder. I almost walked back into the dank, scum-covered prison he paid to free me from. Until he said her name. Skylar, the sister I killed for. Now I’m the bunker pariah. Everyone knows we share a past, I’m just Raze’s enforcer. Taking it this far, to actually hurt Mireille, I really didn’t see coming. So maybe I am the idiot. I should have guessed when Raze appeared after breakfast. Smiling calmly, running a hand through his short blonde hair, “hey Cy, can you check on Sven?”“He is refu
There is a limited take-up for my little art class. I tried to be diplomatic and not time it for Vera’s meditation. Maybe next time I will. Especially if I see her pawing Cal again. Just because I encouraged him to try that tactic doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing it in action. I set the wrinkled Laurel and Rex up with some charcoals and try my best to talk them through a still life. I took some classes as a teen, and I try to remember the best bits from the instructor. Soon, I have two happy little fossils sketching two potatoes. It should have been a more dramatic fruit, but I had to work with what the stores gave me. The three of us fell into a quiet space, heads full of lines and shadows. I worked on the piece of my mother, and they focused on the knobbly bits of the brown vegetable. Footsteps sounded, and I looked up, hoping as always that it was Cal. Sadly, the beige-wrapped, silver-haired Elvie stuck her head through and exclaimed, “oh how fantastic! I saw your poster!” “It’s jus
I kill time in the gym, attempting to get into a book and sketching. Praying for the curfew to hurry the fuck up. Plugging the leak. Even the way he said it, his icy eyes full of malice makes me want to shudder. Ervin avoids me the rest of the day thankfully but I still have Vera trying anything she can. “What are you drawing, can I take a look?” she cooed, leaning over me. Her hand rests on my shoulder, a blonde ringlet landing against my cheek. “Oh it’s a house! You clever thing! Has Hope been giving you lessons on the quiet?” "Nope just a hobby," I correct her. "Shame, if she'd taught you how to draw people I'd have asked you to try and sketch me!" a tinkling, obnoxiously flirtatious laugh landing flat. Goddess if she thought I was going to sketch her, those beams have twisted her mind more than I thought. I’ve found my skills are absolutely not in portrait. I can’t draw a person. No matter how hard I try to capture Hope I don’t have her talent. However, it turns out I am no