Page 22 of Afflicted

I’m climbing down from the observation tower one evening, just as the sky is starting to turn orange, and someone calls to me. I look up to see Braun heading for me, his hand raised in greeting.

“Silas, I need you to help me out, man.”

“What do you need?” I ask, jumping down from the last rung of the ladder.

“I’m meant to be on shower duty but the trucks have just come in and I need to go check the supplies.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the shower block. “Can you go watch the bloodbags get cleaned up for me?”

“Yeah, not a problem.”

He turns on his heel and hurries across the compound. “Thanks!” He calls over his shoulder.

I walk over to the shower block, gazing up at the orange sky above. The air is a little cooler than it has been, not stifling hot. I wonder what the air in London is like now. I haven’t been there in over 12 years. It’s all destroyed now anyway, nothing to see anymore.

My family’s graves are there somewhere. My little brother and sister, my sweet mother. I wonder if my father fought to protect them to the bitter end. If he’d spent his days saying “I knew it, I knew this would happen.” If he blamed me. If he told them that this was exactly why I was kept away from them. My throat constricts as I remember his last words to me.You’re a monster. You ruin everything. You always have.

I push open the service door to the shower block, into the side room with the one way mirror. The humans are filing in, bottles of shampoos and bars of soap in their hands. The water starts flowing as I take a seat on the blue office chair, spinning back and forth absently, not really watching what’s happening on the other side of that mirror. What are they going to do? Throw soap? So much of this is ridiculous.

I cast a casual glance over the naked bodies, in the steamy room. All sizes, all ages, tattoos, scars and stretch marks. I always liked bodies, from an artistic stand-point. Every single one is unique, and fascinating, and deeply beautiful in its own way. I miss those life art classes.

And then a figure on the left hand side of the room raises lithe arms to run their fingers through long blonde hair, and my stomach is instantly filled with a whirlwind. I lean forward, the chair creaking loudly at the sudden movement.

It’s Juliet. Of course it is. Water runs down those long legs, soap suds going with it. She lathers up her hands, running them over her breasts, her eyes closed as she tips her head back slightly under the cascading shower. I’m fucking jealous of that water, that soap that glides delicately down her skin, between her breasts, over her ass.Get a fucking grip, Silas. Jesus fuck.

She turns so she’s facing the mirror, giving me a full view of her body. She curls her fingers against her scalp, washing her hair, her eyes still closed. A small smile ghosts across her full lips, her face relaxed. Maybe she’s imagined herself off into another world, one where she’s just come in from a day at the beach, salty and heated from the sun.

My grip on the armrest tightens as I imagine how she’d feel right now. How warm and slippery she’d be, how soft and supple her body would be, that gentle smile against my cheek. She’d feel fucking magical.

I know I shouldn’t look. I should keep my eyes on that relaxed face. I shouldn’t fucking look. It’s not like I haven't seen her naked before. But that was different. When I was in the shower room with her, I was too incandescent with rage to notice her body. I was too consumed with needing his scent off her to focus on the peachy tan of her nipples, or the curve of her small, firm ass.

But now, with nothing else to distract me, my gaze wanders down her body, between her legs. There’s a light scattering of curly hair, and between the lips of her cunt, I can see the barest tip of a rosy pink clit. It’s all I can do to lick my lips, imagining pushing that pussy apart, finding that clit swollen and aching for my tongue.

I shouldn’t have fucking looked. All I want to do right now is smash my way through the mirror and seize her in my arms.

My illusions are shattered instantly whenheappears at her side. Matt. Limp-dick twat. The petty voice in my head snorts.His dick isn’t even that big. I’m such a fucking shit.

Her eyes open and she looks up at him, smiling. He leans down and plants a furtive kiss on her lips, and her eyes sparkle. She looks so happy. He’s grinning down at her, looking around the room at the others who all have their backs turned, busy getting themselves clean.

He puts an arm around her waist, backing her into the wall. He kisses her deeply, pressing his hips against her. Her arms wind around his neck.

There’s a loud snap as the plastic armrest gives way under my grip. Fuck. I’m destroying half the compound because of this woman.

I lean forward and hit the alarm button, letting it whir for a split second. All the humans jump, gazing around the room with panicked eyes, like deer caught in headlights, trying to figure out what just happened.

All except for Juliet. Her stormy eyes are fixed on the mirror. Glaring. Like she knows. She knows it was me, and that I’m jealous. I reason with myself that I did that because of the rules. I broke up a fraternization that isn’t allowed. It wasn’tjustjealousy.

They all get back to washing and finishing up, and I can see the irritation on her face as she does. She’s not relaxed anymore, her whole body tense with fury. I’m an asshole. She was having a nice time, she was happy.

I’m a selfish prick.

He looks down at her, his lips moving, and she gives him a strained smile, nodding. Her eyes flash back over to the mirror, and if looks could kill I’d be disembowelled right now. She hates me.

I lean back in the broken chair, watching them all shut the water off. They move to the next room to dry and dress, and I leave the observation room to wait outside for them. They all file past, barely acknowledging me, heading back to their dorm. Like sheep. They know the drill.

Juliet storms past me, her scent even sharper now that she’s freshly washed. So much of that delicious skin is on display, dressed in tiny shorts and a tank top that barely covers her stomach. It makes my mouth water. Suddenly she spins on her heel and fronts up to me, so we’re almost chest to chest.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She hisses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

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