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As I stepped out onto the rooftop I spotted her immediately. This time she wasn’t seated against the wall - hidden in the corner, blanketed by shadows. No, this time she stood tall beneath the darkening sky. Her shoulders stiff, her back straight as she stared out across the resort. She didn’t turn around to acknowledge my presence even when some sort of debris crunched beneath my boots. It might have been arrogance - superiority that ensured she didn’t turn around to acknowledge or greet me, but I was almost certain that it wasn’t. Something about this girl made me think of a caged creature, which was fucking ridiculous because I was sure you didn’t get anymore caged thanme. Madi reminded me of some of the girls I had been housed with in the Society’s children’s center - the ones that were skittishbeforeanything had happened to them because their instincts were screaming at them to run, only they couldn’t. How many times had I seen Sven and his cronies glide into the room only for the girls there to shrink back into themselves? Seeing them like that had only strengthened my resolve tonotshrink - tonotcower in Sarah’s presence. In the end it seemed to only make herlikeme more. Being Sarah Lipson’s favorite plaything was a dangerous game, but it had kept me alive - it had given me glimpses of Gemma, and that was what had made it worth it.
I swallowed down my thoughts, irritated that they even existed. Because this girl wasnothinglike those who were stolen - ripped from the bonds of humanity only to be shoved into a cold, dark underground basement under the pretense of giving us the bestchildcarethe world had to offer. She was one ofthemand I would do well to remember that.
I didn’t call out to her - didn’t speak her name, instead I walked towards her, sidling up beside her and looked out across the resort. We both stared out at the serene surroundings, although I doubted we saw the same thing. She probably saw some version of a holiday resort, while I saw the illusion of one. Still, I refused to be the first one to speak - the first tocrack, and even so, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. The wind lifted her hair, swirling her scent around me. It was the type of scent that was intoxicating - moreherthan whatever perfume she was wearing. I glanced sideways, taking her in. She was tiny next to me, and even though she was flighty - scared - unsure - she wasn’ttimid. She wore a strappy cream chiffon shirt, and I was certain she wasn’t aware of how good it made her breasts look. Her jeans were fitted, the hem folded up to reveal a pair of heels. The perfect outfit, no doubt curated and chosen for her by someone else. Did Paul approve of her wardrobe? Did he dress her? See her slide the material off of her body each night?
The thought was maddening.
“The rising and setting of the sun has been argued to createexpectationwithin the framework of our lives - as if the occurrence is a certainty, forcing us to measure other aspects - other hypothesis against its very nature.”
She spoke calmly, finally acknowledging my presence by talking about something completely random. It was adorable in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to experience for far too long. But then, such experiences were prohibited for me.
“I didn’t think you would come.” I spoke the words without giving them much thought - without evaluating the truth of my statement, but even after the fact, I knew what I had said was the truth - my version of it anyway. Because I had expected to step out onto the rooftop only to find it empty - had prepared myself towait- fifteen minutes, perhaps even half an hour, before calling this an exercise in futility.
Only it wasn’t, because she was here.
“Then why did you?” She turned her head towards me, looking up as she spoke with such earnestness - such curiosity. In the fading light I took note of her eyes - the way they were made up of not one solid brown, but rather different hues of it. And even as I stared down at her, I watched the blush rise to her cheeks - something she hadn’t learned to control.
“Why did I what?” I spoke softly, leaning in towards her, breathing in her scent - her energy.
Some might argue that the existence of someone’s energy - theirvibe- what they intrinsically put out into the world - was bullshit, but I knew otherwise. Perhaps it wasn’ttheirenergy per se, perhaps it was our own instincts that served to recognize someone else’s intentions. That same instinct that so many of us ignored daily.
Madi’s energy wasn’t brutal or erratic - it didn’t speak of her will toharmor inflict pain on others. She didn’t appear controlling, but she did appearfrightened-unsettled.
She licked her lips, and for a moment I was mesmerized by the way her tongue darted out, swiping at her lush bottom lip. Lips that appeared entirely too kissable. Lips that Paul had no doubt tasted.
The reminder of Paul angered me, but it was better that I was angry - better that I remembered that she was one of them.
“Why did you come?” I stared down at her - at her question. The girl couldn’t be serious. Did she understand what she was asking? The double entendre? Did sheknow?Because last Friday after our clandestined rooftop meeting I had rubbed one out to the memory ofher.
The knowledge that this girl was doing something to me only angered me further. Because she wasn’t special - wasn’t anything more than one ofthem. It just meant that I needed to get laid - andquickly.
“Careful with what you’re askingprincess. You want to know why I jerked off to you? Or fo you want to know why I’m standing here with some girly literature in my hands for you to read.”
I expected a slap - disgust - maybe even some screaming. If I was beinghopefulI might have looked for the flare of interest in her gaze - the tell-tale sign of her pupils dilating in lust. Instead, I was awarded with a blink. One fucking blink as she studied me - studied my expressions as she waited for somethingmore.
I hated being scrutinized at the best of times, but being studied and scrutinized by one ofthemwas too much. It felt too similar to Sarah - to the way she had stared at me for hours, waxing lyrically about howprettyI was - my jawline - that sort of shit.
"Did you really jerk off?" Her question wasn't one filled with lust and objectification - although I didn't miss the way her voice hitched slightly - instead she seemed genuinely curious, as if she wanted to understand the inner workings of the male human anatomy.
“Yes,” I answer honestly, and then - because there is seriously something wrong with me, I pull out my hip flask and offer it to her. “I made sure that tonight’s poison isn’t too strong - we have to ease you into this drinking thing.”
Her dark gaze sweeps back up to me, blinking in surprise before she rewards me with a smile. She’s pretty when she doesn’t smile, but smiling? The girl is goddamn magnificent. Why didn’t she do that more often? Was Paul the reason she didn’t smile?
“Come on then,” she stepped away from me, so completely unaware of my inner turmoil as she walked towards the same wall we were seated against the other night, and like a muppet I followed her.
Ten minutes. I’d stay here for ten minutes and then I’d leave, because nothing good could come from me staying here. She wasn’t shocked when I told her that I jacked off to the thought of her - she wasn’t enraged or even interested. She blinked at me like I was a fucking science experiment.
Still, I seated myself next to her, crumpling my body beside hers as I wordlessly passed her the flask. She took it without any hesitancy, tipping it back, allowing the cool liquid to hit the back of her throat. It made me think of something else I wanted to hit the back of her throat with.
Because I was a sick mother fucker - because that’s how theymade me.
She didn’t cough and splutter this time, and for some reason that made me strangely proud of her - made me look at this odd girl with something other than hate and misplaced lust.
“Here,” I grunted the words at her as I thrust one of Holly’s books in her lap. If the title didn’t give what type of literature it was away, the cover model did.Mason by Leila Jamesaccompanied by some ripped asshole, his abs on display for women to drool over. She stares down at my gift, a frown creasing her forehead as I watch her take it in. And then she exhales, turning it over to read the blurb, and still I wait. It’s my turn towatch- toabsorb- tostudy.
It doesn’t take long for the blush to appear, coloring her delicate cheekbones beautifully. She’s embarrassed, but then she shifts her body slightly as if she is seated uncomfortably - the pressure of the floor somehow not enough.
Does she know what her body seeks? What she clearlywants?
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice is soft - breathy, and something about the timber of her tone makes my dick grow hard. I want this girl - want her with a new level of lust I’ve never experienced.
“Sure,” As she passed back the flask my fingers brushed against hers, and I watched the way her lips parted as if the very contact surprised her somehow.
Despite her blush, Madi turned towards me, facing me head-on. Her hair was the kind of light brown that seemed to absorb and reflect the colours around her. Her shoulders were steeled, her spine straightened and the inflation of her chest told me that she was inhaling,deeply- preparing herself for whatever question she had.
“What does it feel like when you kiss someone?”
The blood rushed from my brain, leaving me dizzy and uncertain. Did she really ask that? Does she really want to know? I watched her, measuring her breaths - her gaze. Was she just fucking with me? But no, her head cocked to the side and while shewasturned on, she seemed genuinely curious.
