Notes: At last, another chapter! Smut to come next chapter, finally I've gotten some FEELINGS out of the way ;)

An owl called, lonely and shrill.

Maya listened to its muted cries echoing across the fields, the sound seeping through the cracks in the window. In all the drama of fighting and surviving she hadn't given much thought to how nature must be reacting to the zombies, maybe struggling just as hard as she was.

The owl had kept her company, as sleep hadn't come to Maya. She could feel it pressing behind her eyes, making her shoulders slump with exhaustion, but still she kept her eyes open, watching instead as the dark shadows of the room slowly faded, becoming lighter with each passing hour.

She sat with her back to the wall, camping mat cushioning her against the hard wood floor and Mickey sprawled between her knees, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Occasionally he would murmur, nuzzling his face past the gaping shirt into Maya's bare stomach, beard tickling.

But Maya didn't laugh. Idly, she ran her fingers through his hair, and he settled, slipping back into his dead sleep.

The owl called again, and distantly a screamer answered it, making Maya's heart jolt. It was enough to make her drooping head lift, for her eyes to blink awake again. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper, scratching with every blink, but she ignored the discomfort, keeping her eyes firmly trained on the swaddled form in the corner.

Maya was waiting.

In the army, she hadn't been very patient. Had always been a character flaw of hers that countless CO's used to comment on. But here, at the end of the world, she found she had it in abundance. Ironic. What was there to wait for after the end? It had already ended. Now was just a slow drag towards the inevitable, surely.

But the world kept turning. Outside, the owl hooted, undeterred by its screamer competitor. The sun would rise, and the sun would set, and life would continue. It always found a way.

And Maya would too. The fear that had flooded her veins had eased, replaced with a grim determination to survive. Things were clearer now; any trepidation or uncertainty she had once harbored was gone, obliterated with the final blow that had killed Jacob.

She knew what she'd have to do to survive this. She knew what she'd have to do to save the others.

In the corner, Lily moved. The sleeping bag she had nestled in dropped away, Lily's head pushing free to stare blankly towards Maya. Even in the dim light of early morning, Maya could see the girl's swollen eyes, the bloodshot veins that narrowed on Mickey's sprawled form. She sniffed, a heartbreaking sound to Maya's ears, and dropped to a crouch, tossing the sleeping bag aside.

She searched the floor, casting around in the mess of Mickey's belongings.

Maya was careful not to jostle Mickey as she curled her arms protectively around his shoulders, hugging him against her stomach.

"No, Lil."

Her voice barely sounded like her own, raspy and quiet. Lily stilled, hands still braced on the floorboards. Maya knew what she was doing, what she was looking for. She knew, because it's what she would have done. In her lap, Mickey muttered unhappily, pressing closer to her, still asleep.

Lily said nothing, and Maya didn't expect her to. Lily had clawed her hair out of her usual pony tail in her grief, and it hung in greasy lines against her sticky cheeks, gave her the appearance of something wild, feral.

There was little to nothing Maya could say to help her, to make things better.

So she didn't. Maya said nothing of apologies, or condolences. Let Lily turn her grief and rage on Maya, if she needed to. The alternative would get them all killed.

"You won't find anything in here to use as a weapon," Maya continued, keeping her voice low. "Even if you did, I wouldn't let you use it. It'd be suicide and you know it."

Lily's fingers curled into claws against the floorboards, fingernails scraping wood.

"He killed my brother," she croaked. "He killed him, and you just…you…"

Lily stared down at her hands as if only just noticing them. "You gave yourself to him like it was a fucking reward."

Maya winced, unused to hearing the girl curse. "Is that what you think I did?"

Lily's head snapped up, bloodshot eyes intense as she stared Maya down. "You didn't stop him. You didn't do anything. You let Jacob die."

One life to save many, wasn't that the saying? Hollow words spoken from hollow men.

Maya felt herself tensing; a flow of adrenaline starting to make her heart pound and her vision sharpen. She couldn't afford to coddle Lily, though she desperately wanted to. Old Maya wanted to just wrap her in comforting arms, let her cry and mourn with her. Maybe would have let her pound retribution into Mickey's unprotected back.

New Maya understood that wasn't possible. Long-term survival was more important than letting rage or grief take over, she knew that now. If Lily raised a hand to Mickey, Job would do something awful. She had seen what the man thought 'entertainment' was. The stakes were high, but how could she explain that to Lily? That Jacob was one of the lucky ones, he had escaped whatever fate they would now face. That if Maya didn't do this, if she wasn't strong enough, then they'd never escape.

Maya would protect her family, even if they didn't understand that she was doing it.

"I did."

The owl no longer sang. The room was quiet, but for Lily's harsh breathing. Maya felt like metal, hard to the eye but brittle inside.

"I let your brother die." Maya felt detached from her own mouth, watching clinically as anger flushed Lily's face, made her previously glassy eyes come alive with anger. "I watched him die and I was glad."

Lily was shaking, and Maya let her arms drop from Mickey's shoulders, sensing the girl might spring at any moment. Good. Push her; make her blind to rest of her feelings. Maya could handle it.

She had to.

"I let Mickey fuck me with your brother's blood still on his hands." There it was, there was the tipping point. Lily's eyes were wild, mouth stretched in a snarl. Maya went in for the kill.

"And I liked it."

Lily lunged with a yell, and Maya surged up to meet her, dislodging Mickey around her waist. It was a clumsy attack, Maya catching Lily's failing fists easily enough as they grappled in the dark, Maya on her knees and Lily bearing down.

Lily twisted, and Maya rolled with her, pulling the girl down to the floor. It was easy enough to wrap herself around Lily's smaller body, to pin her in place so she didn't hurt anyone or worse, herself. Random sharp angles dug into Maya's back, but she ignored the pain, cinching her legs around Lily's thrashing ones.

"Let me go!" Lily was shouting and crying, desperately trying to get away. "Don't touch me you…you…whore!"

The word was like a physical slap. Wordlessly Maya let go, and Lily retreated back to her bed, shaking and crying.

"I…I trusted you," Lily said thickly, wrapping the sleeping bag around her shuddering body. "I thought…"

She sat down, back to Maya, staring at the wall. "I hate you."

Mickey was awake now, lying on the floor where Maya had rolled him, looking at her with confusion. Maya picked herself up, dusting her bare legs down absently.

"You go right ahead, Lil," Maya murmured, padding back to Mickey. She settled herself back in her original position, eyes straight ahead and back rigid. "You go ahead and hate me."

I can take it.

The water was cool, goosebumps pebbling her skin as Maya sluiced it over her arms, splashed it on her face.

The stream was swollen after the rains, the water murkier than it would have otherwise been, but it would do, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Maya could bathe. All the women had been permitted to come to the stream and scrub away the dirt on their skin, even Sam, though she was under the watch of two sentries as she crouched in the slow flowing water, scrubbing her arms clean with a worn washcloth.

Lily was further upstream, surrounded by Kelly, Crystal and Penny. Lily had stripped down to her underwear and a stained vest top, washing herself with slow jerky movements, eyes downcast. The other women had rallied to her but didn't speak much, each concentrating on washing themselves and studiously ignoring Maya.

Maya was only a few meters away, but it felt like miles. There was a distance between her and the others now, unspoken but certainly there. Maya hadn't expected it from the other women, but she accepted it, setting up her own spot further down to wash alone. Lily needed them more than Maya did.

She felt no embarrassment in taking her top off, in wading out into the middle of the stream until it lapped above her knees to dunk herself into the cold water. She washed her hair best she could, ran her fingers through it to get the worst of the tangles out. The overcast sky threatened more rain, but for now it was dry, the forest drab and grey around them.

On the bank, Mickey sat, going through his own washing routine.

He was shirtless; rubbing himself down much like Sam was, though seemed more preoccupied with watching Maya and glaring at anyone who dared look over. To the two sheepish sentries and other women, it was an act of possession, a warning to stay clear. To Maya, his presence was more of a comfort, knowing that he wouldn't let anyone try and take a shot at any of them in their state of vulnerability like Jake had done.

Maya stared down at her shimmering reflection, frowning at the pale face that stared back. Even in the water she could see the dark discoloration around her throat, around her eyes. Anyone who looked over at her would see the damage; see the bruises along her back, hips, the purple fingerprints down the back of her thighs.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Mickey growled, bristling on the bank. Maya glanced out of the corner of her eye to see one of the sentries hurriedly look the other way, gripping his rifle for dear life. The other women ducked their heads further, tightening their triangle around Lily.

Maybe that was really why they were avoiding her. Maya looked like a walking testament to Mickey's temper, a canvas that they had assumed he had beaten his frustrations into.

Maya kicked the surface of the water angrily, sending her reflection skittering.

Mickey zeroed in on the movement, getting to his feet worriedly. Maya shook her head at him, stooping to cup water with her hands to splash over her face again.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to him. She wasn't sure what she'd say, if there was anything else to say. Lily had eventually gone back to sleep, and Maya had snatched an hours sleep herself, draping herself across Mickey's chest so if Lily tried anything, she'd have to get through Maya first. But the teen hadn't done anything; it seemed Maya's attempts at getting the girl to switch her anger had worked, and now, Maya bathed alone.

She could feel Lily's absence like a hole in her side, but Maya knew it was safer this way. She had seen Marcus and Ed that morning at breakfast, both men silent and withdrawn, but alive. Marcus had met her eyes but Ed had stared at the table blankly. For now, that was enough for Maya. They had played their parts, and as long as they continued to do so, they just might survive. Even despite the fact Ed hadn't been able to carry through on Jacob's execution, it seemed Job was pleased enough. Though both men were under guard, they were allowed out of their shed to work.

Maya had helped ensure the survival of her friends. So why did she feel so empty?

A minnow darted around her feet, swimming in to curiously mouth her toe. Maya shifted, the bottom of her foot sinking into the muddy bed of the stream. Another minnow followed suit, until Maya had a small shoal milling around her ankles, eating whatever debris she kicked up in her movements. A tiny reminder that life continued, despite all odds.

A zombie shifted somewhere in the trees. With a loud crack, one of the sentries put it down. Maya didn't pay it any attention, watching the minnows. One was larger than the rest, fat and shiny. It darted in towards her the most, eager for insects and mulch in the murky water.

"Well howdy-do ladies. Lovely day, 'aint it?"

Job's voice interrupted the tense silence, and Maya looked up as the other women huddled together amidst loud splashes. Sam stilled her movements, keeping her eyes firmly on the washcloth in her hands.

Job grinned at them, the stream lapping at his boots. Doc was at his side, a small brown bag held to his chest.

"Now I know it 'aint a man's place to interrupt a woman's beauty routine," Job continued, eyes crawling over Maya's naked chest and soaked, translucent, underwear. "But Maya, be a dear and come over 'ere will ya?"

Maya hesitated, glancing towards Mickey. The action seemed to anger Job, making his eyes darken and the smile drop from his mouth.

"I said get over 'ere," he snarled. "Don't make me ask twice."

Mickey glanced sharply at his brother, but motioned with one hand for Maya to approach.

Obediently, Maya waded over, water sloshing around her calves. She didn't bother covering her chest with her hands, instead pulling her drenched hair over her shoulders to drape over her breasts to give her some semblance of cover.

She didn't go to Job. She waded to Mickey's side, the mud pulling at the soles of her feet. The sentries were watching, curious at what was happening as Mickey offered her a hand. She accepted, wrapping her cold water slick fingers around his, grunting as he pulled her up out of the mud onto the bank, her sore body twinging.

Only then did she turn to Job, Mickey at her side.

If Maya had any hope of turning the tide of power away from Job, she needed to turn it towards Mickey. And the only way she could do that, was to defer to him over Job in front of the men.

And Job certainly didn't like it, judging by his stormy expression. Maya dropped her gaze to look at his boots, hiding a private vindictive smile.

"What's this about?" Mickey asked, impatient as always. He had scrubbed his skin hard, trying to wash away all traces of blood, and his arms and chest were a bright sore pink. His hair was wet like Maya's, trailing into his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.

Job motioned to Doc. The doctor was looking unhappily at the bag in his hands.

"Thought it 'bout time we start testin' her like we do the others. Picked up some more from town on the last run, so we got plenty."

Maya concentrated on breathing in through her nose, and exhaling slowly out her mouth. It helped the fear from pooling in her belly, the adrenaline from spiking in her veins.

"What fuckin' test?" Mickey demanded. "She 'aint in no shape to be fiddlin' with, Job."

Job chuckled, and Maya forced her hands to relax, to not form the fists they so desperately wanted to.

"Well I hope you're doin' some fiddlin', Mickey. That's the whole point, remember?"

Job nudged Doc with his elbow. "And ol' Doc here is to make sure she don't try to get out of it, or use someone else's. Show him, Doc."

The brown bag crinkled as the old doctor reached inside, pulling out a box with bright colors printed on its packaging.

And God help her, Maya knew what it was.

A fucking pregnancy test, she laughed hysterically to herself, lips clamped shut so no sound would escape her. He's going to make me take a fucking pregnancy test, here? Now?

Job was smiling again. Maya wanted nothing more than to bury her fist in his smug face.

"I gave you a month, Mickey. She's gonna take a test every four days like them others."

Maya couldn't help it; a snort broke through, drawing all three men's attention. Job scowled.

"Somethin' funny?"

Well she didn't have much else to lose. Maya raised her head.

"You don't just zap, pregnant! It takes time, and a test won't pick up on if you even are until past ten days at the earliest."

Or, so she remembered from the kindly woman working at the family planning clinic when Maya had gone there as a panicked teenager.

"Well then you better get a move on, yeah?" Job said, obviously unhappy with her voicing an opinion. "For ol' Mickey's sake. If you 'aint by the end of the month, I'll have my go. Bet you'd love that, wouldn't ya?"

He took a step towards her, and Maya shrank away, letting him think he had that sort of power of her. Truthfully, Maya would rather find her rifle and eat the barrel before letting Job touch her. Better yet, make Job eat that bullet.

Mickey wasn't any happier at her side. "Fine. Give it to me-"

"Naw," Job waved his hand, interrupting his brother. "Doc here is gonna make sure she 'aint gonna tamper with it, and I'm 'ere to make sure he'aint gonna mess with it. That right, Doc?"

Doc nodded miserably. Mickey looked ready to protest more, but Maya had had enough. If Job wanted to watch her pee on a damn stick, fine. She hoped he enjoyed the view, the fucker.

"I'll take it, Doc." Maya plucked the box from Doc's shaking fingers, opening it and tilting the smooth white plastic stick into the palm of her hand. "I know how it works."

She turned towards Job. "Can I at least do this over in the trees?"

"Why?" Job sneered. "You shy?"

Maya ruthlessly quashed the surge of anger that rushed through her veins. "Yeah. I get stage fright when having to pee in front of people."

"Tough shit," Job smiled, crossing his arms. "Crouch and deliver, Torres."

You don't get to call me that, Maya snarled silently, uncapping the pregnancy test. You don't get to call me anything.

She walked a few paces away, barely a few yards really, but enough to fool herself into believing she had some sort of privacy. The tall grass along the banks would have to be good enough cover, though it would barely do any good. Cheeks flaming, but resolve determined, Maya crouched amongst them, sliding her sodden underwear down around her knees.

It was awkward, trying to keep her bare ass covered by the grass, and get the little stick in the appropriate position, but she managed after some shifting around. Luckily for her audience, she hadn't had a chance to relieve herself that morning, so the stage-fright didn't materialize.

To try and get her mind off what she was doing, she stared out at the stream, listening to the burbling of the water. She wondered if out there in the forest other animals had survived. Like the minnows, or the owl she had listened to last night, was nature out there, surviving?

Because that was all any of them could do at this point. Survive.

Finally finishing her task, Maya slid the stick out from between her legs, shimmying back into her cold wet underwear. Turning back towards the men, she snorted to see Mickey staring at the ground, Doc studying the sky.

Only Job had watched her, and he clucked his tongue at her as she walked back over, handing the stick to Doc.

"Now that weren't so bad, was it?"

Maya didn't deign him with a reply. She resumed her spot at Mickey's side.

Doc was looking at the test, his watch held in front of him. He wouldn't look at Maya, or at any of the other women.

Not the first time he's done this, Maya thought sadly. He's as much a prisoner as the rest of us.

"Sleep well, Mickey?" Job asked. There was that stupid grin again. "Can't imagine that lil' spitfire givin' you much rest after the show."

A show was all it was to him. Maya struggled to remain still and expressionless.

"Fine," Mickey said stiffly. "I slept fine."

"And you?" Job was all teeth as he turned to her, calculating eyes that traced her bare skin. "How'd you sleep, Maya?"

She hated it when he used her name. Like he had some sort of right to it, to her.

"Fine," she parroted.

Job made a curious noise in his throat. "Interesting. Surprised that girl 'aint tried it on with you, brother. 'Course you know how to handle her if she does somethin'."

Doc cleared his throat, offering the test to Job. "It's negative."

Job sighed, but didn't take the test. "Well 'aint that just a damn shame. Expected somethin' better from you, Mickey."

Mickey just shrugged, a tick in his jaw betraying his true emotion. "Guess we'll just have to keep tryin'."

Apparently satisfied, Job whistled to Doc, turning and heading back to the house. Doc finally glanced sadly at Maya before following, slipping the test back into the brown paper bag.

Both Maya and Mickey watched them until they disappeared into the house. Only then did Mickey seem to breathe, exhaling forcefully. He turned towards her, reaching to touch her elbow.

"Maya-"

"Not here," she said quickly, glancing over her shoulder at the sentries and other women. Eyes hurriedly looked away from hers. "Further up."

Without waiting for him to acknowledge, she hurried along the bank, further down the stream and away from listeners. She picked a shallow spot, and waded back in, the cool water extinguishing the embarrassment that had flushed her skin. She kneeled in the water, knees digging into the soft mud. Her reflection was a mess of moving shapes, scattering as she flicked the water's surface.

Mickey sat down on the bank, cross-legged as he watched her. His boots and socks were back with his discarded shirt. There was a dark crimson spill on the shin of his jeans, and Maya resolutely did not look at it, didn't think about whose it was.

"'M sorry," he murmured. "Just when I think there 'aint nothin' else he could force on ya, he does."

The minnows had found her again, swarming around her. Maya tried to touch one, but they were quick, darting away from her.

She breathed out slowly. "He's serious about it. I mean tests every four days? Jesus. Mickey, we're going to have to-"

"No."

She looked up at him. Mickey's face was fierce, eyes glittering. The bruising around his eyes was healing slowly; it would probably be a few more days until it started to fade. Jeez, what a pair they made, battered and bruised. "With everythin' you've been through, don't you even think 'bout it."

Maya couldn't help it, she laughed. She kept it soft, not loud enough for the others to hear, but it still slipped out, causing Mickey's frown to deepen as water sloshed around her vibrating body.

"I'm sorry it's just…out of everything that's happened, this is probably the easiest to think about."

Maya swept her hand through the water, watching as the water muddied further, the fish swooping in, wriggling past her fingers. "Some of my friends are dead, Mickey. A man tried to kill me. I think now is the perfect time to think about this. About…about us."

"And I said no!" Mickey's back was up like a hissing tomcat, prickly and unyielding. "No, I won't. I fuckin' won't."

"You told me that I had a choice," Maya reminded him, and she could see the moment he remembered, the shudder in his shoulders as he relived their charade from the night before.

"You do." He composed himself, expression serious, jaw clenched and pale eyes hard as flint. "I meant it. 'Aint no-one gonna force you."

"And what if this is my choice?" Maya asked, slapping the water in frustration. The minnows fled. "You don't think I've thought of every outcome, every possibility? I have. Last night, waiting for Lily to try and kill you, I thought. I came up with a dozen escape plans and not a single one will work. This is it. If I don't do this, I can't keep anyone safe."

Mickey looked at her helplessly. "But-"

"Job will take me away, Mickey." She stared him down, willed him to understand. She could do a lot, could survive a lot, but she wouldn't survive that. "You know he will. He'll fuck me himself and I can't…don't do that to me. Please, don't do that to me."

Mickey ran a hand through his wet hair, frustrated. "I'll…we'll take one o' the trucks. All of us, somehow we'll just…just go-"

"And get how far?" Maya demanded. "He'll chase us down, you said it yourself. He has contacts. And out there isn't much safer."

"Then, what?" Mickey erupted, hands fisting in the damp grass along the stream bank. "What, Maya? We do this and then what? How the hell are we…what am I-"

He bit off his words, staring down at the water angrily.

"I don't know," Maya said truthfully. "But I guess we'll have nine months to figure it out, won't we?"

The words settled between them like something tangible. Mickey shuddered, curling in on himself like the night before. He looked vulnerable, so unlike the usual explosive Wilkerson he was supposed to be.

"A baby, Maya," he said quietly. "You…me…ours."

Maya awkwardly moved towards him on her knees, reaching out to rest a hand on his leg. "I know what I'm asking. I know it's awful but-"

"Awful?" he laughed bitterly, surprisingly her. "Jesus, woman it's probably the only thing I've ever wanted with a woman like you, and never thought I'd have."

Momentarily struck dumb by his honesty, Maya stumbled for words. He took her silence for judgement, twisting away from her, ready to get up and flee. "Never mind. Weren't noth-"

"Sit down."

It was her army voice, and Mickey immediately obeyed, falling silent and still. Maya collected her thoughts, choosing her words carefully. This wasn't exactly the best place to have this conversation, her seated in cold water mostly naked, but here it was. If they didn't tackle this now, they probably never would.

And as Job had so helpfully insinuated, time was a-ticking.

"Mickey, you heard what Job said," she said.

Mickey's face twisted. "Fuck, Job."

Despite the heavy topic, a smile curled on Maya's lips. "That's what I'm trying to avoid actually. Thing is, I finally get it. We're not going to escape this tomorrow, or next week, or next month even. We need to give ourselves some time to figure something out. Even if that means…well, this."

Mickey was at least looking at her again, searching her face intently.

"Do you even like me?"

Maya squinted at him, wondering if she wasn't the only one who had been concussed. "The hell kind of question is that?"

"A damn good one," Mickey said seriously. "I…I need to know that I'm not…forcin' this on you. Though…fuck, I know its forced it's just-"

Again, he trailed off, lost for words. Maya let the silence settle, both of them thinking their own thoughts.

"Mickey," she finally said, drawing his attention. She reached for his hand, hesitating for only a moment before interlocking their fingers, squeezing. "If I didn't like you, I would have killed you in your sleep long before now."

He snorted, but returned the gesture, reaching for her other free hand. Boldly, Maya continued as he ran his fingers over her knuckles, warming her cold skin.

"There aren't many men who would have done what you've done for me. For us. I consider myself lucky enough to have known several good men in my life, and I consider you one."

He opened his mouth to argue and she glared at him sternly. "When I said together, I meant it. And it's not because I feel grateful to you, or I feel like I owe you, though I probably really do."

She made a sound of irritation. "I'm not…I'm not the best at words, but I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't know what's in store, and I can't lie and say I ever wanted to be a mother but…"

She squeezed his hands again with a shy smile, heart suddenly thumping nervously. It made a welcome change from the emptiness that had consumed her all night. "As far as baby daddies go, you're my first choice."

He stared at her. "I think that's the most romantic shit anyone's ever said to me."

"Oh you-" Maya tugged her hands free to punch his arm. "I'm serious!"

Mickey laughed, eyes crinkling, catching her half-hearted blows easily. It made something warm unfurl in her chest, small and hopeful. She had missed seeing him smile. "Put damn Shakespeare to shame."

"Yeah?" Maya tapped his arm one last time. "Well smartass, there you have it."

Mickey glanced back towards the others. The grasses hid them from view, probably only the tops of their heads were visible. He pulled on Maya's hands, wrapping her in a hug as she hauled herself up into his lap, cold skin on warm. Water soaked his jeans, but neither cared. It was easy to fit her soft curves against his harder angles, to tangle her fingers into his beard and tug playfully as if they were lovers brought together by choice.

"I killed Jacob," Mickey murmured against her wet hair.

Maya shivered. "Yes you did."

"You don't hate me."

"No. I never did."

Mickey watched the stream move by over the top of her head. "If we do this, if I…if I get you…pregnant…"

He swallowed as if the words hurt physically to say. "There's no goin' back. No matter what happens, if you get away, there's a kid. I won't…I won't be able to let you go."

Maya shifted in his arms, arranging herself more comfortably. "I'm not asking you to."

"You'd have me?" he asked, surprised. He pulled away enough to look at her, to search her face. "Even if you got away with all them others?"

She met his gaze with her own. "Even then."

She meant it. This wasn't something she would go into lightly, and she knew he wouldn't either. It wasn't perfect, nothing about the situation was, but they could make it work somehow.

They had to.

His grey eyes were soft as he bent to kiss her, his hands gentle where he held her bruised flesh. A promise whispered between them, a pact that only they would know about. To the rest of the world they would only be doing what was expected, but this...this was theirs.

It would be theirs.

Maya wrapped her arms around his neck, yielding beneath the light press of his lips.