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Chapter 59
Katja
"So you don't mind my scars?" John asks while we both stare up at the starry sky. His eyes flicker to mine, and I feel them like a physical weight on my shoulder. "You can be honest with me, Kitty Kat. I won't get offended."
What is he talking about?
I don't mind his scars at all!
I have to tell him, but I'm too shy!
A flustered smile spreads over my lips, and I nervously brush my hair behind my ear. I'm experiencing heart palpitations around John. I've never been on a date before, and this must count as one.
And knowing this is a date, how am I supposed to stay calm? Being with him is the rush of a lifetime—every time I take him in, I feel my heart skip a beat again. I'm drowning in these warm bubbles of joy.
I'm seriously hyperaware of John, and I'm afraid. I don't want to screw things up between us by acting weird, but I'm this smiling, giggling mess around him because nothing can stop the butterflies from swarming my c
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Katja A violin, paced and furious, plays a melody of fear through my bones. It's awakening my senses and making me see black. John's lush lips are so close, and there isn't a sign of his kind soul within those dark eyes. Yet I have to reach him. I can't give up. His tongue flicks out, ready to devour me, and I move while held by his tentacle, fighting my better judgment. I know my idea is stupid, yet I do it—I grab hold of his upper lip. He is trying to throw me into his mouth, but I lean in, giving him a peck of a kiss. My eyes close on instinct, and I try to convey everything: love, hope, despair, and the will to be with him through my lips. I know I'm smaller than him and that he probably can't physically feel me, but the emotions within my heart feel so large. I love John, and he needs to know. I think back to the times we bickered in the kitchen and the lustful glances we sent each other. Tears prickle behind my eyelids, a
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Natasha Most days, I'm trapped inside my head and stuck on remembering the past before the apocalypse happened. I miss my childhood, when people had regular jobs, and when schools mattered. Ten years ago, I had parents, friends, and neighbors. I was a carefree little girl who rarely worried about tomorrow—that changed when monsters rose from the sea and destroyed our cities. Humans are no longer safe. Most people are bound to live in cities heavily guarded by the military, and others, like me, are forced to steal to survive the next day. And my poverty is all because of Scylla, the monstrous mermaid, who destroyed my entire city and ate my parents. She is a beast, and I have sworn to murder her once I have enough money to buy myself a crew ready to tackle anything. I pick up a photograph. "Ugh," there is a picture of an old woman holding a cat, but the frame is made of silver—I throw it into my black XXL garbage bag that I've slung over my bon
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