**Super metaphorical, but I had a whole lot of fun making this. Annie's chapter (Runaway) should be coming out soon. These blonds are the destroyers and creators of worlds and I love them both**

She sauntered through the water in big, slow steps. It was murky and empty down here. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she had to follow the vague light ahead, a blurry mist in the suffocating atmosphere. Where the light was coming from or why she had to catch it, she wasn't sure. But it had been planted in the back of her brain like a tracker to capture it and bring it back.

The top of her head eventually broke the surface, but she still couldn't breathe. She didn't have to—she was a machine, a puppet. The water was no longer the hazy grey she walked through below; it was now a calm blue and gentle waves pushed against her spine. As the water poured from her body in rivers, she looked up and saw a tiny piece of land, so tiny that she could easily see the whole island without turning her head or peering into the distance. Lush green trees sprouted from the sandy floor. Books were scattered among the shore and a few drifted out into the sea and towards her.

Her eyes followed one that floated pass her. It had a leather backing and the edge of the pages were black from use. Strangely enough, the book itself wasn't damaged in any way, despite being swallowed up by the cool waves crawling toward the island's shore. It looked old and greatly loved like a teddy bear.

She glanced back at the island and spotted something she hadn't noticed before. A little boy, hair as bright as the sun, had just closed one of the land's tales and began making his way to another one. He looked at his bare feet as he shuffled through the sand; his sky blue sweater flapped in the breeze like the waves around her.

Her body was set on auto-pilot and kept on walking. She ultimately reached the island; she felt her feet sink into the wet shore, glossy brown and pleasantly warm. They kicked at the powdery white sand (which was soft and not too hot) and a handful of grains were tossed onto a nearby book. It looked like soft stars on a warm summer's night.

She slowed to a stop and stared at the boy a few feet from her. His back was to her as he picked up a new book and gently brushed away the sand coating it. He turned around and was startled when he saw her. The boy was skinny and small and his face was so young that he was probably older than she thought he was. He had a round, button nose and thin pink lips. His skin was as pale as the sand beneath them and his eyebrows were thick and dark, probably the only masculine feature of his. But his eyes—God, those gorgeous eyes—were as wide and blue as the very ocean she just emerged from. Yet there was a mysterious sadness in them that intrigued her.

"Oh!" He flinched, but quickly melted into a playful smile. "You scared me."

His voice was so gentle yet so high that, if she weren't a machine, she would've laughed at the sound.

He held the old book close to his chest and his smile softened. "It's nice to see another person here. I haven't seen anyone in a while."

But she wasn't a person. She was a warrior. Out of habit, she looked down at herself to see her uniform, itchy beige shorts and a star on her arm. She then realized that she wasn't wearing it or anything at all. Her breasts hung limply, and ocean water traced each curve and dip in her body.

She was transparent; there was no use in hiding. This boy saw right through her and, for the first time in a while, she felt afraid.

"I'm Armin," he chirped. "What's your name?"

She had no choice but to tell him.

"Annie? That's a pretty name." He looked around them. "Do you like to read?"

She didn't answer.

"I think it's important, to read books," he went on. He swayed from side to side. "We get to learn about ourselves and other people and the world we live in. I think it's very interesting."

He paused and peered at her with the eyes of a curious cat. "Why are you here?"

She was retold of her mission. It slumped heavily on her shoulders. She didn't want to think about it, so her gaze drifted off to the side and into the woods. It was green and full and smelled of fresh rain. Tiny purple flowers poked out of the ground and some apples hung from the trees above them. Darkness dwelled deep within those woods, however, despite the beautiful scenery surrounding them. It reminded her of the boy's eyes.

Her body shifted to the darkness, but before she could take a step, the boy piped up, "Look what I found."

Her eyes traveled to his once again. There was an almost desperate look in them. She peered into his hand stretched out to her. There sat a seashell—it was a cream color and curved elegantly into itself like the columns on a Greek temple. Long skinny strips of dark seaweed were entangled in it.

"There's a lot of these around here," he explained as she carefully took it from him. "You can take it back home if you want."

You'd promise to come back home.

Her fingers brushed against his when she plucked the shell from his palm. His hand was the same texture as the sand beneath them—soft, warm, clingy. She had the urge to fold them within hers, but she knew her fingers were cold and hard. They'd probably hurt him, so she kept to herself.

She held the lovely shell in both of her hands and the wet seaweed clung to her skin. She blinked once she saw the green slices wrap itself slowly around her wrists and travel up her forearms. Swirly designs curled around her muscles and outlined the blue veins around her wrists and inner elbows. It felt nice against her skin—it was like someone was dragging their cool, bony fingers around her flesh.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

The boy's voice was suddenly deeper (though not by much) and she looked back up at him. He had grown (again, not by much) and looked almost the same when he was smaller except his jaw was more defined and his limbs were broader. The blue sweater he wore was gone, blending into the sky above, and he now wore a uniform similar to what she used to wear. His looked more comfortable though, more honorable.

The sadness in his eyes was a bit more apparent, but he still smiled.

"The world is speaking to you," he whispered, his pearly white teeth shining like the sun. "What is it saying?"

You'd promise to come back home.

It was quiet and distant, but she could still hear them. She listened to the kindness and it brought tears to her eyes. She never felt love like this before; she didn't know it even existed in this way.

She smiled back at him and opened her mouth to thank him, but the sluggish way he turned his head back to the shore and the way his little pink lips cracked open in shock scared her. She followed his gaze.

The once calm blue ocean had now become a deep red hue and the waves were violent, crashing into one another with a loud scream. All color drained from the sky and vicious storms closed in on them. Terrible moaning and terrifying sobbing could be heard from somewhere in the red sea.

"You've brought a war with you," said the boy. He uttered this in a tone as if he were expecting it.

She whipped back to him, fear ripping through her chest, making her knees tremble and her fingers dig into the seashell protectively as if it were a knife. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the island getting bigger—the woods expanded and the sandy shore ran for miles. The trees limped sadly and the flowers withered away and the big round apples fell to the ground, rotten and shriveled up. It was as if the light was trying to run from the oncoming darkness.

Her eyes dropped onto herself. She was covered in blood—red oozed from her like rain, her skin forever tainted this horrible color. The seaweed was still wrapped firmly around her arms, however, and the shell, though soaked with blood, still encouraged her.

She began to sob. Her shoulders shook, her lip quivered, her chest heaved. The world became hazy like when she was below the sea, but she kept her eyes on the seashell.

"Don't cry. I know you don't mean it."

He entered her vision again. The sadness in his eyes was obvious now; he couldn't hide it anymore. The red ocean reflected in his gaze and the sight weighed him down as if the moon was on his back. She brought this. She did this to him and it was all her fault.

He then leaned down and gathered a few more books at their feet. He hurried to the shore and then threw them into the ocean of blood. When they landed, the water around them slowly faded back into its original calm blue color.

She called out to him. What was he doing? He loved those books—they were his salvation, his sense of self. In them contained so much knowledge and secrets to the world beyond this island. And here he was, tossing them like it didn't mean anything. He was literally giving up a part of himself in attempt to stop the flow of slaughter.

He looked back at her. A tiny smile graced his lips and she saw the little boy again. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn," he said, "is to love and be loved in return."

He continued flinging light into the darkness. Blue splashed in red and the contrast between them was incredible—it was the same ocean but, like with everything else, there were two sides to every story. The madness grew, however, and it frightened her more than anything else. Was there any hope? Were they simply born to suffer and die?

As the screaming got louder and books practically rolled to the boy, providing more opportunities to do the right thing, she lumbered to him, dragging her bloodied feet through the warm sand. You'd promise to come back home. But where was it? She thought it was back out there in the storm, but she felt no love of a home there. This place made feel like she belonged. She cared about this boy and, strangely, he cared about her too.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return.

So that's what she'll do. She'll return the shell and drown for him, so he'll stop giving up his life. He deserved to have it kept.

She walked back into the red ocean; she wore the color well. The boy saw her offer the shell back to him and his eyes—those sad, sad eyes—widened. He paused and then shook his head.

"I won't let you go through this sacrifice by yourself." He clasped his hands over hers. "We're stronger together."

She stared at his grasp. It was tight and sure and it brought life to her again. She noticed him step willingly into the dark water and at once it began to shift colors. When she squeezed his hands back, the blood dripped off her body and the water around her ankles brightened. She couldn't hold back the smile that spread across her cheeks.

They stared up at the chaos before them. The wails of pain and the stormy clouds were strong, but so were they.