Author's Note: Just a one-shot from a prompt (A Perfect Storm) on Wattpad for a contest that I thought I'd post here as well. Just think of it as a little sneak peak for Part 2 maybe? :3 Let me know what you think! xx
The door creaked open to the decrepit shelter, a house that was barely standing in the decay and destruction of the world. Its paint had completely peeled off, and there were large gaps in the walls filled with despair. Part of the roof had been ripped off somehow, lost to the desolate wasteland that stretched on for miles around them. But for now, it was the best thing that they had.
Minho held her hand and shone his torch into every shrouded corner; his muscles coiled at the ready to jump or attack and protect her. They stepped inside and closed the door against the rolling threat behind them. Their footsteps were muffled against the collection of dust that now stirred back to life, floating particles that were lost in time.
The living room was blocked by debris, and the two other rooms downstairs were filled with mould and the remnants of sickness. Hand in hand, they crept up the flight of stairs that moaned in agony under the strain of their weight. There was a crack and Cassandra stumbled as her foot went through the rot infested wood and they froze with wide terrified eyes. Her heart had jumped up to her throat and she held her breath as they listened carefully.
The wind continued to howl around them, sneaking in through the cracks and nipping at their skin with cold ferocity. She thought something creaked from upstairs but it could easily have just been her imagination. After a moment, Minho pulled her up and she lifted her foot from the gaping hole as they made their way to the top.
A similar picture greeted them as they reached the landing and looked around. The entire floor on the same side of the living room had collapsed and they could observe the wreckage lying at the bottom. Right in the middle of the torn planks and broken cement was a skeleton lying on top of a large dark brown stain.
Shuddering to themselves, they turned away and went down the rest of the hallway. There were only three other doors left for them to try, and they were all in similar conditions as the ones downstairs. Cassandra looked around and spotted a trap door in the ceiling to what may be an attic.
She nudged Minho and pointed. "You do it, I can't reach," she told him.
He sighed in dismay and gave her his trademark smirk. "What would you do without me?"
"Not roll my eyes in exasperation maybe," she retorted as she did just that.
The boy snickered as he reached up with a small hop and caught his fingers on the muted handle, painted to conceal itself long ago against a backdrop that was now stained and cracked. The door popped down easily enough and a rusted ladder dropped an inch with it. Minho jumped once more to pull it completely down and then he was climbing without a second thought. She went after him and they emerged to a musty attic that was now the abandoned ruin of arachnids.
It seemed to have withstood the elements of nature somehow, and it was half the size of the house so it hadn't gone down with that unfortunate side the roof. Minho got on his knees and leaned over to pull the trap door close. Lightning flashed through the windows, momentarily illuminating the dark room. There was a single bed pushed into the corner with a wooden chest at its foot while the opposite side sat a plain writing table and dresser.
"Looks good enough to me," Minho said as he flashed his torch around. "No Cranks too."
"I wonder if the others are okay," she furrowed her brows in concern.
"They're big boys, they can handle themselves," he shrugged his broad shoulders. "I hope the storm doesn't last long."
"Yeah," she looked out the window and saw another flash of electricity in the distance, drawing ever closer to their bearings. She remembered the last time they had been caught out in a storm, and the memory was far from pleasant. At least this time they had some measure of cover, and it alleviated the nerves in her stomach slightly. She couldn't possibly go through seeing Minho in that much pain again, the thought it alone gave her heart an acute ache.
Cassandra turned around to survey the room again, then walked towards the bed and grabbed hold of the sheets to pull off. Minho came over to help her and they used it to remove some of the webs surrounding them before patting the dust off in a far corner with their faces scrunched up. Once they were in an acceptably usable state, she tucked them back over the mattress.
"Hey, take a look at this," Minho opened the chest and his eyes lit up.
She stepped around the bed and looked over his shoulder into the box. It was filled to the brim with books, their pages worn and yellowed from age. She reached forwards and picked one up from the side then turned it around to look at the cover; it was The Tempest by William Shakespeare.
Cassandra turned to glance at Minho with raised eyebrows. "Appropriate?"
"Appropriate," he agreed and shut the lid.
They found a candle and some matches in the dresser, which allowed them to save the batteries of their flashlights. The orange flame flickered on the bedside table as they crawled onto the bed, and Cassandra curled herself against Minho's body. He kissed the top of her head and she pressed her lips against his neck, closing her eyes for a brief second to take in his scent.
They each ate a granola bar from their packs and Minho peeled the book open. She laid her head on his chest and the glow from the candle was enough to illuminate the words on the page. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, settled in and started to read out loud.
"Act 1, Scene 1. On a ship at sea: a tumultuous storm of thunder and lightning heard," he stopped and looked at her. "Cassie, this is a shucking play."
"Read it," she urged, patting his chest. "I wanna know the story, we'll take turns with the dialogue."
He sighed patiently and continued, taking turns to read as she suggested. After a while, he stopped again to complain. "What is this shuck language?"
"But it sounds so beautiful," she implored with her eyes.
He indulged her a little while more and they had actually made it to the end of Scene 2 when he snapped the book close and shook his head resolutely.
"Cassie, no, I'm not reading this anymore," he told her, tossing it to the side.
She looked at him sullenly and lightning flashed outside, paired with a loud rumble of thunder, as if the sky itself was in league with her. Minho glanced out the window where droplets of rain had started to pelt against the glass and saw the dark clouds already overhead. Forks of bright light flashed in the near vicinity and the boom echoed all around them.
He wrapped both his arms around her and squeezed her tightly against his chest, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck. She giggled, feeling her skin rise from the ticklish sensation. He always knew which buttons to push with her and she melted instantly like putty in his hands.
Minho smirked and dragged his lips over her exposed shoulder, then upwards towards her neck. She smiled with ecstasy, stretching her head to the side to allow him full access to her weak spot. He trailed kisses to her collarbone, up her throat and along her jaw until finally, he caught her lips in an arduous kiss.
She'd known him for months and weeks had already passed since they confessed their feelings for each other, yet he still sent fire coursing through her veins. A sweet, tantalising current of sparks that set her sensory neurons ablaze in response to his tactile stimuli. Her heart trembled excitedly at the intense affection she felt for him, culminating into fiery passion as he rolled on top of her and interlaced his fingers through hers.
The tempest outside raged on around them, a tumultuous onslaught of gales and claps of violent bolts ripping through the now lurid sky, piercing through the doleful brume. They remained liplocked, lost amidst their own whirlwind of emotions, impervious to everything else around them. His fingers tangled in her hair and she clung to him with a greedy fervour, yearning for this single moment to last forever. When every minute of their lives out there in the scorched lands could be their very last, she savoured each moment they shared.
From the way his eyes gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful thing on earth, to his heated breaths against her skin as he claimed her for himself, marking her with his lips. And her hands roamed his body, marvelling at his solid physique, the way his muscles contracted as he reached for her. The only thought in her mind was how she couldn't bear to lose him; that he was so much a vital part of her like her heart or brain.
Agapornis, derived from the Greek word agape that meant love, was a name that stemmed from the paired birds' strong bond for one another. She remembered how Newt loved to tease them about it, and everyone had started to pick it up as well. Ever since her life began in the Glade, the memories she remembered in her sleep of the both of them in times long past were just proof that there was something out there in their transient existence that connected them together. A metaphysical possibility of a link that transcended all known laws of logic to tie them to one another.
Minho laid on top of her as she leaned to the side, her eyes drifting from left to right across the dimly lit pages. The cacophony had lessened, but the claps of lightning continued to lurk outside. She spoke the words softly to herself as she reread the verse, finding something stir inside her from the faded print.
"Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not,
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices
That, if I then had waked after a long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again."
She mulled the words over and the thought of reprieve, a place where they could finally rest their weary bones, presented itself in her mind. They had fought for so long in a world that had lost so much, that exhaustion had been a constant companion that lingered over them. Then Minho's voice roused her from her contemplations and she looked down at his still languid face.
"This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing," he read.
Cassandra laughed at how much the line matched him so well and he looked at her questioningly, eyes still fogged with sleep.
Suddenly there was a loud bang from downstairs and the both of them froze with silent trepidation. Wild laughter floated to the top of the house, muffled slightly by the damp wood separating them from the ground floor. She looked to Minho in alarm, saw his expression mirror hers, and they were both scrambling off the bed in a flurry.
There was a creak and a snap as the intruder ascended the stairs, their heavy footsteps thudding to rest on the landing. She positioned herself behind the trap door and looked to Minho as he crouched in front of her. The mad laughter came closer until it was right beneath them and her heart hammered against her chest. She pressed a hand against her mouth just in case and waited.
Like a monster slithering across the dust covered floor, the trap door fell open and light permeated from the opening. Before the burnt, skeletal hands could grip onto the rungs of the ladder, Minho launched himself off the edge and fell onto the trespasser's face, kicking him squarely in the jaw. Cassandra leaned forwards and saw him pushing himself off the ground and backing away to the other side of the hallway. She immediately saw what the matter was as two more ragged Cranks walked up towards him.
Taking her pack off from her shoulders, she perched herself on the edge before flinging herself down on them as well. Her feet connected with the shoulder of a decadent woman and she swung her pack, slamming it into the jagged face of another man. Cassandra quickly drew her knife from her belt and thrust its point into his jugular. With a grunt, she dragged her arm sideways and carved a deep line through his throat where a gurgle resounded in a silent scream of death.
The woman was on her in the next second, gnashing her teeth together and screaming hysterically for her fallen ally. Cassandra toppled to the floor on her back and struggled against her attacker. The Cranks were stronger than their frail bodies attested for, driven by madness and pure bloodlust. She braced herself and brought her knee up, driving it into the woman's abdomen then kicking out so that she lurched to the side.
Minho was already helping her up and the both of them faced off the Cranks with their weapons drawn. The woman picked herself off the ground and lunged forwards at Cassandra once more. She dodged the sharpened claws aimed for her face and Minho stabbed his blade into the Crank's eye. There was a sickening sound as he pulled back, steel cutting through soft tissue, and she plunged her own knife into the woman's heart to finish the deed.
The other man had already bolted, grabbing her pack from the floor and jumping down the stairs in one giant leap like a rabid animal. He rolled, scurried to his feet and slammed through the door.
"Hey!" Minho yelled after his fleeing prey and tried to make chase but Cassandra had grabbed hold of the back of his shirt.
"Wait!" she cried out. "Don't! It's not worth it, the storm is still raging!"
He stopped and turned to look at her, knowing that she was right. They descended the stairs anyway and stood by the threshold, looking out at the stormy wasteland beyond. The man had ran a good stretch away from them, but they could have easily caught up to him if they wanted to. Lightning flashed across the sky a moment later and there was a burst of light as the fork landed exactly on the Crank in the distance with a deafening roar.
They started in surprise, staring in disbelief at the now smouldering spot of cracked earth. Her hand instantly flew to her chest as the blast reverberated throughout her body.
"Damn," Minho said.
"Uhuh," she nodded slowly in agreement.
The hinges of the door had been torn apart when the Crank ran through it earlier, so they sat at the bottom of the stairs and waited for the storm to die out.
Nothing else came to disturb them as the dark skies rolled over their heads, and they picked themselves off the floor, re-emerging into the shimmering desert. They made their way to the fractured grave and Minho retrieved her pack from the charred corpse. The leather had been singed black but its contents remained intact at least, and she secured it over her shoulders once more.
She shielded her eyes with a hand and pointed in the distance where the mountains peeked through the heat waves that now returned with the blazing sun.
"C'mon," Minho cocked his head and they started off over the arid terrain.
It had only been less than an hour when they saw a dark speck in the distance and they picked up their paces eagerly. The speck grew into a large spot, and then they could see the individual figures of their little group. Cassandra shouted, her voice carrying over the listless air and one of them stopped to turn around.
"Hey, you shanks!" Minho yelled, waving his arm. "Wait up!"
They ran the remainder of the way towards them, and she could see Newt's blonde hair gleaming underneath the daylight. Thomas cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back. "Where the shuck did you two go to?!"
The pair finally reached them and stopped, panting heavily under the merciless rays and taking in huge breaths as sweat slid down their brows.
"Where d'yu think?" Newt laughed. "Must have shacked up somewhere all nice and cosy."
Frypan made a gagging sound. "Please, spare me the details."
"Aw, shut up, shuckface," Minho straightened and wiped the perspiration from his eyes. "Beats hiding in a hole with you smelly shanks."
"Where'd you guys find shelter?" she asked. "You didn't run through the entire storm, did you?"
"Nah, we found a place to hide in," Thomas gestured in some general direction. "A couple of Cranks tried to crash the party though."
"Yeah, same," Minho grunted. "They're freaking everywhere."
"Reckon we got about half a day more to trek," Newt said, glancing at his watch. "If we move now, we'll make it with plenty of time to spare."
"Cool, let's go," Minho shrugged and walked on ahead with Cassandra on his heel. He took her hand as she stepped in pace beside him and Newt made a disgusted sound from the back.
"Ugh, just look at those bloody lovebirds."
They glanced at each other with similar smirks and continued their march across the barren landscape. The sun beat down on them relentlessly but it seemed softer now, calmed somehow by the fleeting storm. In that brief moment, she thought that the world seemed perfect with Minho by her side.