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"Shauna, don't leave me."
The words rip out of Melissa's mouth, hoarse and desperate. Her voice barely rises above the rustle of leaves and the distant screams. The arrow is still lodged in her shoulder, blood seeping down her arm, but that’s not what hurts. Not really.
What hurts is Shauna- her Shauna - turning her back.
Melissa’s vision swims as she watches the girl she’s fallen for pass her off like a burden. Shauna doesn’t even look her in the eye. She just turns to Mari, orders her to handle it, like Melissa is a chore. Like she’s in the way .
And then Shauna runs. She runs after some stranger in the woods, chasing shadows instead of staying with her. Instead of saving her.
It doesn’t feel real. Melissa lies in the dirt, breath shallow, heart pounding, and it’s like she’s not even in her body. Like she’s floating above it, watching everything unfold from somewhere far away. Watching the girl she trusted- who kissed her in the dark, who touched her skin, like she was something to be cared for- leave her bleeding and alone.
Her heart aches worse than her shoulder. It’s ripped wide open, raw and exposed, and there’s no one left to cover it. No one left to hold her hand and tell her it’ll be okay.
Melissa doesn’t scream again. She just watches Shauna disappear between the trees, chasing someone who isn’t her.
And for the first time in months, she wonders if Shauna ever truly saw her at all.
A lot of people in Melissa’s life would often describe her as awkward, weird, and meek . That word in particular burns her skin every time she hears it. It was always said as an insult. A way of telling Melissa that she was too submissive in her own life to ever make decisions for herself.
It’s never meant as anything but a dismissal. Like she’s too soft to make her own choices, too timid to want anything for herself. They say it with a laugh, like they’re doing her a favor by naming her smallness.
They don’t know what it’s like to grow up with five brothers. To be elbowed out of the bathroom before school, to be the one scrubbing pee off the floor when the boys couldn’t be bothered to aim. To share a room with her youngest brother and his freight train snore, night after night, until sleep becomes something scarce.
They don’t know her mother, either. A woman who folded herself into the shape of a wife so completely that Melissa grew up thinking submission was something passed down, mother to daughter. A cold beer waiting on the table when her father walked in. Dinner steaming. Smile plastered on. That’s what a good woman does.
Melissa learned early what happens when she forgets her role.
But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have thoughts or opinions. She just learned to keep them quiet. People don't ask what she wants, they tell her. They fill in the blanks before she has the chance to speak.
Even her best friend Gen barely knows anything about her. She’s too busy trying to impress the senior boys, always making Melissa her wingman at parties. She knows that Mel likes outer space, the stars and planets and all that- but she never lets her talk about it. Whenever the blonde starts going off on a tangent about moons or black holes, Gen changes the subject.
She knows Melissa’s obsessed with The Princess Bride , but she doesn’t know it’s not really about the story. It’s about Robin Wright. It always has been.
Melissa is used to being overlooked.
And that makes her much scarier than anyone is willing to give her credit for.
The world doesn’t see her coming.
That’s why she was able to evade the interrogation from her parents when someone in the house stole all the liquor. No one questioned her when the bottles were mysteriously filled with water and juice. Her father never suspected that his sweet little girl had drained the vodka so she and Cathy Prescott could get drunk enough to make out on the basement couch while the house was empty.
Melissa had a talent for getting straight girls to cheat on their boyfriends. Just for a night. If she got them slurring their words and laughing too hard, they almost always gave in. If she wore her brother’s cologne and a loose t-shirt, they couldn’t tell the difference anyway.
She was sneaky. She knew how to take advantage of being forgotten, of being the kind of girl people couldn’t even remember the last name of.
Maybe that’s why she noticed Shauna.
There was something behind those big brown eyes. Something angry. Melissa could tell right away that the midfielder was holding on to a storm she hadn’t let anyone see.
And Melissa liked storms.
The first time she witnessed Shauna's rage, it was during an away game. She had been stuck on the bench, arms crossed, chewing the inside of her cheek like she always did when she wasn’t playing.
Shauna was on the field, running up the center, chasing after the ball. Focused. Sharp as always.
But something was off.
One of the opposing midfielders kept crowding her. Pressing too close. Shoving when the ref wasn’t looking. Clipping her ankles just enough to annoy her. Shauna didn’t react at first. She kept playing like it didn’t bother her.
Until it did.
Right after a corner kick, when all eyes were on the goal, Shauna turned to the girl behind her. Melissa couldn’t hear what she said, but the look on her face was cold.
Then her elbow came up fast, hitting the other girl square in the face.
Melissa couldn't tear her eyes away.
It was over before the ref even noticed. The girl fell backward, hands flying to her nose, and Shauna turned away like nothing happened. The girl was bleeding. She got a red card, and had to go off the field. Shauna just kept playing.
That was the first time Melissa felt anything for her. Something deeper than wanting to know the girl better.
When their plane crashed a few months later, Melissa couldn't stop her heart from racing. She was terrified of the possibility of dying, and even more terrified that no one would notice if she did.
She got to watch her fellow teammates be changed by the wilderness, one by one.
She stayed quiet. Always in the background. Gathering firewood, boiling snow for water, patching holes in jackets with whatever scraps she could find. No one ever asked how she was holding up. They just assumed she was fine, because she wasn’t falling apart in front of them.
But Melissa saw everything.
She saw Taissa start sleepwalking again. She saw the way Van stared too long at the trees, like she was waiting for something to come out of them. She watched Natalie harden, losing the soft parts of herself bit by bit. Even sweet, sunny Laura Lee started talking to the sky like it was answering back.
And Shauna. She watched Shauna most of all.
At first, she was just the quiet one. Not weak, not shy. Just private. She stuck close to Jackie, always a step behind, like she wasn’t sure where she ended and Jackie began.
Then Jackie died.
After that, something shifted.
Shauna started wandering into the woods alone. She started keeping secrets. When she got that look in her eyes- distant, tired, like her brain was somewhere else. It didn’t feel like grief. It felt like something colder.
And then came the baby.
Everyone remembers that day differently. The screaming. The blood. The way Shauna begged someone to help her. Melissa remembers staying in the corner of the cabin, clutching her knees to her chest, frozen by the sound of Shauna’s sobs.
Melissa doesn’t know what happened to the baby. No one talks about it. Not really.
But something in Shauna died with him.
It was when Shauna beat Lottie to a pulp that everything changed.
Up until that point, everyone still looked at Shauna like she was something fragile. A girl who had lost too much. She had been through hell, and no one wanted to push her too far, like one wrong word might shatter what was left of her.
But that day, in the freezing cold cabin, no one saw a victim.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. Just launched herself forward and started swinging. Fists, elbows, whatever she could manage. Lottie crumpled beneath her like paper, blood painting the snow, and Shauna didn’t stop. Not until someone pulled her off. Not until Lottie looked barely human.
Melissa watched the whole thing from the back of the group, too stunned to move.
After that, the others stopped treating her like someone who needed protecting. They gave her space. Even Melissa felt it. She started seeing the girl she knew was always there, finally clawing her way out.
The junior chose to keep her distance for a little while longer, but she couldn’t lie to herself.
There was something in it that intrigued her.
It was the power. The way Shauna didn’t care anymore who liked her, or what anyone thought. She wasn’t afraid of the dark parts of herself. She wore them. And for someone like Melissa, who had spent her whole life trying to stay small and unnoticed, there was a thrill to it.
Melissa really did try her best to leave well enough alone.
She kept her head down, did her chores, and stayed out of the way. But after weeks of the same monotonous routines, her brain started to itch. Same food, same faces, same endless days. Nothing changed. Nothing happened.
So, following Shipman around probably wasn’t the smartest thing she’s ever done. But it sure as hell paid off. She got to kiss the girl she’d been thinking about for at least a year. And that girl didn’t slit her throat afterward. In Melissa’s book, that was a win.
She really thought they were getting somewhere after that. The night Shauna stood up in front of everyone and held Melissa’s bloody hand like it was nothing, like she belonged to her, like they were something real now.
They kissed again in the dark, and Melissa was sure it was different this time.
She’ll admit it started out selfish. A way to make her life more exciting, maybe even a way to protect herself. Being close to Shauna meant safety. No one would bother her if she had the butcher watching her back.
But as time went on, Melissa started seeing the parts no one else got to see. Shauna was gentle with her, softer than she expected. She let the blonde curl into her arms and press her cheek to her chest, like it was nothing, and Melissa never wanted to leave.
She always gave Melissa extra scraps at dinner, kept an eye on her when she thought no one was paying attention. She fussed over whether Mel was getting enough to eat, enough sleep, enough anything.
Sure, getting her to smile was like pulling teeth. And Melissa couldn’t read her half the time, didn't know what was going on in that pretty head. But she made Melissa feel special. Cared for.
When Shauna looked at her, Melissa finally felt seen.
So she let her guard down.
She should have known better.
In retrospect, Shauna was probably too smart for her own good. She knew how to get what she wanted. She was a manipulator, a chameleon. She could turn on the charm and then flip a switch and be terrifying.
Melissa had seen both sides. She’d kissed both sides. And still, she stayed.
So when she hit the ground, an arrow buried in her shoulder, there was no question who she called out for. It wasn’t instinct. It was trust. Hope. Love, maybe.
And Shauna left her.
Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look back.
And just like that, Melissa wasn’t special anymore.
Shauna never did see her, did she?
Her mind keeps replaying it over and over. The feeling of being pushed away, left alone, not important enough to stick around for.
Melissa blinks her eyes open, and everything feels fuzzy. Her shoulder is burning, her body feels weak, but her mind is clear. The trees above her are blurring, and the sounds are distant, like she's underwater. She can't feel her fingers, or her feet, it's just her heartbeat, thumping in her ears.
She doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting in the dirt. Could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been hours. Time stopped making sense a while ago. The only thing Melissa knows for sure is that the arrow is still inside her. And that every second it stays there, she wants to scream.
She already did scream. She’s still screaming, actually. Her breathing is hard and uneven, and she can't stop the sobs ripping from her chest. Melissa's whole body feels like it’s burning from the inside out. The edges of her vision are pulsing.
Mari has been tugging at the thing like that’s going to magically fix it, and all it’s doing is making it worse. It’s barbed- anyone with half a brain can see that, but Mari’s panicking, hands shaking, eyes wide, and Melissa is pretty sure she’s going to pass out if someone doesn’t do something soon.
“Just get it out!” Melissa chokes, trying to breathe, trying not to die.
Gen is next to her, already stripping off her shirt, jaw clenched, trying to come up with a better plan. She mumbles something about pushing it through instead, and Melissa wants to say thank you, but all that comes out is a sob.
And then Lottie appears.
She's covered in blood, hair tangled, clothes torn. She looks like a ghost. She looks like a nightmare.
"Can I help?"
"Haven't you done enough," Gen snaps.
Melissa doesn't have the energy to speak, so she just nods. Lottie can go fuck herself. This is just another wound. Like Mel hasn’t already bled through the side of her shirt and lost her mind in the process.
Because of all people, it’s Lottie who wants to help her. Not Shauna. Not her girlfriend. Not the girl who was supposed to love her.
Melissa wonders if anyone is coming back for her. She wonders if Shauna will care. If anyone will.
Gen is asking if she’s ready, Mari is crying, and the forest is spinning- but all Melissa can think about is the pain. The sharp, burning agony of the metal-tipped arrow piercing through her skin and tearing out the back of her shoulder blade.
She holds onto it like a lifeline. The pain. Because it’s the only thing anchoring her in place. And for just a moment, there's peace in that. A second where Shauna doesn’t exist in her mind. Where it’s just her, her body, her survival.
Of course, that doesn’t last.
Because as soon as the obstruction is removed, and Melissa collapses onto Gen’s shoulder, spent and shaking, the rest of the Yellowjackets come back.
She vaguely notices the stranger with her hands bound behind her back, but her eyes are pulled like a magnet to Shauna.
Standing there. Watching her.
Smirking.
Like she’s proud of the junior for not croaking while she was gone. Melissa has to look away before she does something stupid. Like scream in her face, or kiss her again.
Maybe both.
The others start fussing over her, but all Melissa can think about is how fucking pissed off she is. She’s furious at Shauna. At herself.
Shauna didn’t care that she was being left behind. She didn’t give a shit if Melissa was hurt.
It doesn’t take long for the group to start bickering, the usual bullshit that follows every game. Nat is trying to tell them what they should do, but everyone’s too busy being upset with each other to listen.
She let the newcomer stitch up her wound without a word, then silently let Gen drag her to their shared hut. Well, they used to share it- before Melissa started seeing Shauna. She’ll be damned if she steps foot in that traitor’s space now. If the adrenaline from earlier wasn’t crashing and her bones didn’t feel like they were melting, she would’ve confronted Shauna already.
She barely remembers falling asleep. Must’ve hit the ground and passed out instantly. No dreams. No thoughts. Just black.
When she first lay down, there was light slipping in through the cracks of the hut walls. Now it’s pitch dark. The next thing she hears is a soft voice calling her name, trying to wake her.
Whoever it is better have a damn good reason, because Melissa’s body is screaming for more rest. She tries to ignore it, pulling deeper into sleep, but the person beside her is persistent.
“Mel,” the intruder whispers, and a hand gently traces up the side of Melissa’s good arm.
The touch is so comforting, so warm, that Melissa leans into it. For a moment, she forgets everything else. Her mind goes blank, and all she can think about is how good it feels. To be touched. To have someone hold her, even if it's a lie.
But as her eyes blink open and she gets a good look at the figure beside her, her stomach drops.
Of course it’s Shauna.
The midfielder must be the stupidest person alive if she thinks she can just stroll in and wake up a severely wounded, exhausted girl like Melissa.
What the fuck could she possibly be thinking?
Melissa doesn’t even bother responding. She just grunts and bats her arm away in a show of pure defiance. The pain in her shoulder makes her regret it instantly, but the message is sent.
Fuck off.
But Shauna doesn't take the hint.
She just sits there, hand hovering above Melissa’s arm like she’s trying to figure out what to do. It takes her a full minute to even speak again, and Melissa has a small, stupid glimmer of hope that Shauna might actually listen to her for once and leave her alone.
“Get up, okay?” Shauna pleads. “Let’s go back to our hut.”
Our hut.
God, she’s so clueless.
Melissa rolls over, ignoring the sharp spike of pain that shoots through her body. Of course Shauna wouldn’t understand. It would be wildly out of character for her to pick up on a social cue and do the decent thing.
Melissa’s too drained to have this fight right now. She closes her eyes again, hoping that the silence will do the work her words can’t.
But more time passes, and there’s still no sound of Shauna leaving. No footsteps. No shift in the air.
Just her presence. Still. Waiting.
Melissa knows this is a useless game she’s playing.
Eventually, she’ll have to concede and go back with her. Unless she wants to keep doing this back and forth all night. Melissa would prefer to get some sleep, considering her injury, so she lets out a loud sigh and finally responds.
"Why do you care?"
Her voice is flat. Hollow. Empty. She can’t hide the venom in her words, no matter how hard she tries.
Going against Shauna is never a smart idea. Melissa may not be scared of her, but she’s well aware of how capable the older girl is, and getting on her bad side is practically a criminal offense.
Shauna doesn’t miss a beat when she grabs Melissa’s arm and tries again, tighter this time. Her kindness is slipping, and Melissa can hear it in her voice. She’ll have to make a decision soon, or else face the full weight of Shauna’s wrath.
“Don’t be a bitch, Mel. Either get up on your own, or I will drag you out of here for everyone to see.”
Melissa can’t help it. She laughs.
How stupid was she to think she had any control in this relationship? It was obvious from the start that she was Shauna’s little lapdog. And if she tried to run away, well, Shauna was always one step ahead.
“Fuck off, Shipman,” Melissa mutters, eyes still shut. But she starts to move, groaning as she pulls herself out from under the pile of fur Gen covered her with earlier.
Maybe if she just follows Shauna, the girl will finally let her sleep.
It’s a dumb thing to hope for, but her brain is too tired to come up with a better strategy. She doesn't even try to fight the hand that reaches for her. Melissa keeps her own, limp in Shauna’s grip, fingers barely curling around hers, but she doesn’t pull away. Her legs are shaky and her shoulder throbs with every step, and she tells herself that’s the only reason she allows it.
It’s easier to pretend she’s numb than to admit she doesn’t want to let go.
They pass the fire pit where everyone’s gathered. A few of the girls glance up, chewing slowly, watching the two of them walk. It makes Melissa nervous. She doesn't want anyone to see her like this, weak, wounded, following her girlfriend like a dog on a leash. Gen catches her eye and sighs loud enough for Melissa to hear, shaking her head in disappointment.
Near the edge of the firelight, two strangers are tied to plane seats with rope, gags shoved into their mouths. Melissa doesn’t even spare them a second glance. She doesn’t care who they are. She doesn’t care why they’re here.
All she wants is to lie down. To shut her eyes. To forget this day ever happened.
Their hut is quiet when they step inside, and Melissa immediately notices the plate of food waiting on her side of the bed. She stares at it, confused.
She isn't sure what to make of Shauna's behavior. One second she's threatening her, and the next she's giving her a gift. She's a walking contradiction, and Melissa is having a hard time keeping up.
Shauna releases her hand and steps ahead, brushing the fur blanket aside like she’s turning down sheets at some twisted five-star hotel. She gestures for Melissa to sit, then gently nudges her down onto the bed.
Melissa obeys, mostly out of instinct. Her limbs are too heavy to fight anymore.
“Eat,” Shauna says softly, like they’re fine. Like everything is fine. She picks up the plate, crouches beside the bed, and gathers a small bite of food onto the makeshift spoon. Then she brings it to Melissa’s lips.
Melissa blinks. Her stomach turns, and the smell of meat makes her want to gag.
She can't believe Shauna has the nerve to act like everything is normal. That she can just do whatever she wants, hurt people, abandon them, and then expect things to be the way they were before.
And worst of all, her brain is stupid enough to think about accepting the food. It's her survival instincts kicking in, reminding her that her body needs the nutrients.
Melissa pushes it away with her good arm, shaking her head. “I can feed myself.”
Shauna pauses, then lets out a frustrated huff. “You shouldn’t move your shoulder too much. The stitches are new. You might- you might reopen the wound or something."
Melissa rolls her eyes and lets the bite sit there for a moment before finally opening her mouth. The food is bland. Mushy. But it’s warm, and she didn’t realize how much her body needed it.
She has to hold her shoulder still to keep from flinching, but the pain isn't as bad as before. It's more like a dull ache, now, not the searing heat that had her gasping for breath.
They sit like that for a few minutes, Shauna feeding her, neither one of them saying a word. If Shauna wants to be her servant, well, then who is she to stop her? It's pathetic, really, but at least Melissa's not the one kneeling.
Shauna tucks a loose strand of hair behind Melissa’s ear, and the blonde almost chokes on her food. She coughs, surprised by the tenderness of the touch, then clears her throat and tries to relax.
This is the Shauna she knows. Soft. Sweet. Gentle.
It's the one Melissa wants to hate the most.
“I made sure you got the extra,” Shauna explains, setting the plate down when it's empty. “I told them you needed more. Protein, or whatever.”
Melissa's not sure if it's the exhaustion or the hunger that has her feeling so confused. Maybe both. Maybe Shauna's just screwing with her head. She probably is.
She watches as Shauna stands and walks across the hut, picking up the small cloth they use for a towel and wetting it in a bowl of fresh water. Then, without asking, she starts wiping the dirt off of Melissa's skin.
She's not rough, but it's not soft, either. Like the rest of her, her touch is contradictory.
She cleans the sweat from Melissa's face and neck, and the blonde doesn't bother protesting. She just stares, wide-eyed, letting Shauna's hands move over her skin.
How the hell did she end up here? Attached to a girl she wants to strangle half the time. Who she dreams of kissing and killing in the same breath. Sometimes, she pictures herself taking Shauna’s knife from its holster while she sleeps. Slitting her throat clean, quick, silent. God knows she’d be a hero. They’d probably cheer.
And yet.
Something in Melissa won't let her. Something stronger than her hatred. Something that won't give up on this fucked up, twisted relationship.
She wants Shauna to hold her. To mean it. To stop running away and finally see her. She wants to feel safe again, even if it’s a lie. Even if the hands that bandage her now were just hours ago clutched around someone else’s throat.
Because Melissa knows this is the only way she can protect herself.
She closes her eyes, takes a shaky breath, and musters every ounce of courage she has left. Her voice comes out low and flat, but sharp like a knife.
“I hate you.”
The words are a lie, and she hates herself for it.
She waits, expecting anger. Expecting Shauna to snap. But her voice stays calm, and her hands keep moving. Melissa wants to lean into the touch, but she keeps her back straight. Keeps her face still.
The silence feels like a weight pressing down on her chest, and she can't take it anymore.
"Shauna, I said-"
"I know what you said."
There's a long pause, and then Shauna sets the cloth down.
"What do you want me to say?" she asks. Her voice is strained. "I was trying to save our fucking lives? What would you have done, Mel? Let them shoot us all?"
Melissa grits her teeth, and her jaw shakes as she fights back a wave of tears. She swallows the lump in her throat, refusing to break down.
She will not cry. Not for Shauna. Not after the things she's seen today.
"No," Melissa finally says. "But you could have come back for me."
Shauna scoffs. She's staring at Melissa like she's the one being unreasonable. "Is that all?"
Melissa is thrown off, not expecting such an empty response. "Are you seriously telling me that didn't cross your mind? Even once? Or were you too busy saving yourself?"
Shauna rolls her eyes, and Melissa sees red.
"That's what this is all about, isn't it? Your ego. Because the thought of someone not worshipping the ground you walk on is unacceptable. You couldn't even let me have one fucking day without you."
Melissa isn't sure when she started yelling, but she can't stop. There's no way Shauna is going to get off easy this time. She'll have to listen. She'll have to face what she's done.
"Look at me, Shauna!" she screams, and a tear escapes from the corner of her eye. "Do you see the blood on my body? Do you see the fucking hole in my shoulder? Is this what you wanted?"
"What do you want, an apology?" Shauna snaps, glaring. She grabs Melissa's chin, forcing her to look up, and Melissa's whole body tenses. "Would that make you feel better?"
"I just want the truth," Melissa manages. She's too focused on the fingers digging into her cheeks, the eyes staring back at her.
"It wasn't personal," Shauna says, voice low. "I was just trying to save the rest of the team."
She's not looking away. Her eyes are locked on Melissa's, and her fingers are tight around her jaw, holding her there, holding her steady.
And Melissa is losing her mind.
"So, what, I don't count?" she spits. Her throat is raw, and her heart is pounding, and Shauna is too close. "You didn't think I mattered?"
"Jesus, Mel," Shauna groans, and she's suddenly pulling her into a bruising kiss.
Melissa is too shocked to respond.
But Shauna doesn't seem to notice. Her hands are tangled in the blonde's hair, and her teeth are on her bottom lip, biting, tugging, and it's painful and desperate and perfect.
Melissa's fingers twist into the front of Shauna’s shirt, clinging like she’s drowning, like this is the only thing keeping her alive. Like Shauna is her lifeline, her oxygen, her only chance at salvation.
She can taste the blood, can feel the teeth scraping her lip.
Melissa shoves her back with both hands, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots through her shoulder.
"What the fuck," she hisses. "I'm not fucking playing with you, Shauna."
But Shauna doesn't answer. Instead, she just pulls her back, harder, kissing her with everything she has, and Melissa melts into the touch.
The fight has been beaten out of her. She doesn’t have the strength to push her away, and it's not like she even wants to. Not really. Her skin is buzzing. Her stomach is flipping. It feels like Shauna is everywhere, all around her, inside her. Like this is the first breath she's taken all day.
Shauna's hands slide back up Melissa’s arms, her thumbs resting just below the bandage on her shoulder, and Melissa's brain short-circuits. She's not sure if she's supposed to feel pain, or pleasure, or something else entirely.
Shauna kisses down her jaw, her neck, and then bites down on the exposed skin just above the strap of Melissa's sports bra. The blonde gasps, but it's lost in the moan that comes when Shauna licks over the mark, soothing the hurt with her tongue.
"God, Shipman," she manages, but Shauna ignores her. She doesn't let up. Just keeps biting and sucking and licking, leaving bruises and marks on every bit of bare skin she can find.
Melissa can't tell if she's being claimed, or possessed. But it's not like she has the brain cells to figure it out. Shauna has a knack for making her lose all sense of reality.
All she can do is pull her closer, desperate to feel her skin, to get some kind of leverage. But Shauna is relentless, and Melissa can feel her losing control.
"Shauna-," she pants, and her breath hitches when Shauna's hands find her belt buckle. She undoes the latch and shoves her hand down the front of Melissa's pants.
That’s when it all comes rushing back.
Every memory, every feeling, every single thing Shauna did today. How she betrayed her. How she abandoned her. How she left her for dead.
It hits her like a bolt of lightning, and suddenly, Melissa's anger is back in full force.
The blonde slaps her hands away and pulls back, and the look of surprise on Shauna's face almost makes her feel bad.
Almost.
"You think you can just fuck me and everything will go back to the way it was?" Melissa snarls, and her fists are clenched so tight that her nails dig into her palms. "You can't fix this, Shauna. You can't fucking undo what you did."
She knows she should be quiet. Knows that Shauna is going to hurt her for this. But the words just spill out, and there's nothing she can do to stop them.
"I don't trust you anymore. You're a fucking liar. You're a piece of shit. You're a coward. And the worst part is, I knew you were all those things, but I loved you anyway. Because I'm an idiot. Because I actually cared about you."
Melissa stands up, pushing past her. She doesn't know where she's going, just that she has to get the hell out of here before she does something stupid.
But Shauna doesn’t let her get far.
Her hand clamps around Melissa’s wrist and yanks her back hard enough that she stumbles, crashing to the floor. The impact sends a jolt of pain up her arm. Something pulls in her shoulder. Her stitches rip.
She doesn’t feel it at first.
Then, all at once, her skin is on fire.
"Get the fuck off of me," Melissa hisses.
Shauna's hands are back on her, Hovering over Melissa, but she's not touching her skin. No, her fingers are gripping the bandage, pressing down on the wound. Hard.
She's trying to hurt her.
"No." It's barely more than a whisper. Shauna's voice is steady, and her expression is unreadable. Like this is nothing. Like she's not causing the most agonizing pain Melissa's ever felt. "You aren't allowed to leave me."
Melissa screams. She can't help it.
"Fuck, Shauna!" she sobs. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Her hands are shaking, and her vision blurs, and every muscle in her body is straining against the pain. She's never felt anything like this before. Never.
She wants to punch Shauna. She wants to kick her. She wants to claw her eyes out.
But mostly, she wants to kill her.
She tries, and fails, to squirm out from under Shauna's grip, and her voice breaks. "Please," she cries, tears streaming down her face. "Please, please, please."
The word is the only thing her brain can come up with, the only thing her mouth can say. Please.
She’s screaming so loud her throat feels raw, and a part of her is begging for someone to hear. Someone outside. Someone who’ll come in and stop this. Pull Shauna off of her. Save her.
She glances at the curtain that acts as their door, just for a second. Long enough for Shauna to see.
"Don't even think about it," Shauna snarls, her voice low. Her free hand goes to cover Melissa's mouth. Melissa chokes on her breath, sobbing against her palm.
Her skin is slick with sweat. She's so tired. Everything hurts.
She’s going to die here, bleeding out on the floor of this goddamn hut, in the hands of the girl she thought she loved.
Her eyes squeeze shut, and the tears fall fast, soaking into Shauna’s skin. The only thing keeping her from passing out is the fear. The paralyzing terror that's pumping through her veins, forcing her to stay awake. To survive.
But then, without warning, the pressure stops. Melissa gasps, sucking air into her lungs, and opens her eyes.
Her vision is blurry, and her heart is pounding, and she can barely hear the voice over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.
"I can’t lose someone else," Shauna’s whispering. "I can’t. I need someone. I need you. I can’t- I can't be alone again. I won’t be."
Tears are falling down Shauna's cheeks. She's shaking, and her hand is still covering Melissa's mouth, but her touch has gone soft. For a moment, Melissa forgets the pain. Forgets the danger. Forgets her anger.
"Shauna-"
"I'm sorry," Shauna sobs. She pulls her hand back slowly, like she suddenly realizes what she’s doing. Like her own body is foreign to her.
Melissa doesn't even flinch. She just stares, blinking back her tears, letting them fall.
Shauna is sitting back now, her hands limp in her lap, her chest rising and falling fast, like she’s been sprinting. Her face is red. Her eyes are wild. And when she looks up, she looks… surprised.
Surprised at herself.
“I didn’t mean to-” Shauna starts, then cuts herself off. Her voice shakes. She swallows hard and tries again. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”
Melissa's eyes stay locked on hers, and she knows Shauna is searching for a hint of forgiveness. But the truth is, she's too scared to move. Too afraid that Shauna will snap, and all the anger and the violence will come rushing back.
So, she lies there, frozen. Waiting for the world to end.
This is what Melissa has been waiting for their entire relationship. Shauna opening up, and letting her in. Finally lowering the blade.
But now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel comforting, or reassuring. It doesn't make her happy.
Instead, it makes her afraid.
Shauna’s words tumble out, a jumbled mess of desperation.
“I left because I couldn’t handle it. You were bleeding, and I-” She looks away, shame pulling at her expression. “I’ve already watched two people I love die. Jackie. My baby. I couldn’t watch it happen again.”
The older girl rubs her face with both hands, like she’s trying to scrub the moment out of existence. “I thought if I left… if I didn’t have to see it… then maybe it wouldn’t be real.”
Melissa is stunned she’s saying any of this. She has a hundred different responses running through her mind. She tries to focus on the words, not the blood trickling down her own stomach, warm and sticky and sharp in its reminder that she’s still hurt. That she needs help. That if Shauna doesn't fix this, she could actually die.
There’s something almost poetic about it. The fact that both of them are bleeding, and torn open, and broken. In a twisted, awful, painful way, it's almost like they're equal. The skin of their mistakes peeled back to reveal everything ugly underneath.
For a brief second, she wants to hug her. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell her it's okay. That they'll fix it together. That this is nothing compared to the strength of what they have.
Because Melissa knows that feeling too well. The desperate need to be seen. To be heard. To be loved.
She knows it better than anyone.
But instead of speaking, she just stares. Her jaw is locked, and her throat is burning, and her heart is pounding. Something sharp and wordless passed between them. It was as if Shauna had opened herself up completely, letting Melissa see the wound underneath, and the blonde was left laying there, looking up at it. At the mess of her. At the parts she wasn't meant to see.
Melissa understood. And yet, she wasn't ready to forgive.
Something shifted in Shauna's face, something small but unmistakable. She flinched like she’d been struck, like Melissa’s silence hurt more than any scream. And then, without another word, she turned and fled the hut.
The flap of the curtain fell back into place with a whisper.
For a long moment, Melissa just laid there, stunned and shaking. Then the dam broke. The sobs came without warning, her whole body curling inward as she sat up onto her knees. Her hands hit the floor, palms flat against the dirt, and she let herself fall apart.
Tears mixed with snot and spit, dripping onto the ground below her. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She cried like she was being hollowed out from the inside, like everything holding her together had finally caved in.
She was alive.
Somehow, she had made it out. Not unscathed, but alive. And that had to count for something.
Her fingers drifted toward her shoulder, pressing against the wound through the soaked and peeling bandage. The pain was immediate, and intense. Her teeth clenched. She whimpered.
She needed help. She needed someone.
Then the curtain rustled.
Melissa froze.
But it wasn’t just Shauna who entered this time.
The new woman, Hannah, she was pretty sure- stepped inside with slow, careful movements. Her expression shifted the moment she saw Melissa. Her eyes swept over the bloody bandages, the crumpled posture, the tear-streaked face. Alarm bloomed there, clear and immediate.
She started to say something, but Melissa cut her off with a look.
She didn’t need words. Just a small shake of the head, a tight, flat glare.
Hannah nodded. She dropped into a crouch beside her and opened the small satchel of supplies. Her hands moved quickly and efficiently, her fingers light against Melissa’s skin as she removed the soaked bandages, cleaned the wound, and started to stitch it shut again. Melissa winced but stayed still.
Through it all, Shauna lingered just outside the hut’s entryway, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes fixed on them. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She watched everything without making a sound.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
When Hannah finished, she tied off the new bandage with a gentle touch and leaned back, waiting for acknowledgment. She looked to Shauna, and the older girl gave a small nod.
Without a word, Hannah rose and slipped back outside.
Melissa heard the quiet scrape of rope. A chair being dragged. The sound of someone being tied back into place.
The curtain rustled again, and Melissa flinched, bracing for the inevitable. But this time, Shauna stood in the entryway.
She waited, like she was trying to see if Melissa would let her come closer.
Like she was waiting for permission.
Melissa nodded.
Shauna crossed the hut, her feet falling soft against the dirt floor. She lowered herself into the spot beside her, and her hands reached up, hovering above the bandage. She looked at Melissa, and her expression was pleading.
The blonde girl nodded again.
Slowly, cautiously, Shauna peeled back the top of the bandage, revealing the stitched-up skin. Her breath caught, and her mouth dropped open. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the wound and Melissa's face, searching.
Melissa met her gaze with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you think? Looks pretty badass, huh?"
She was trying to lighten the mood. Trying to show her that, despite the pain, she was okay. That they were okay.
"Fuck," Shauna whispered. She swallowed hard, and her eyes grew bright with tears.
"Hey," Melissa said. She took Shauna's hand in hers. "I'm alive. We're both alive."
"I'm sorry," Shauna blurted. "God, I'm so fucking sorry."
She dropped her head into her hands, shoulders shaking as she fought back tears.
"It's okay," she whispered, even though it wasn't.
Because the truth was, she had never felt less okay in her life.
Melissa knew better than most that love wasn't a choice. That sometimes, your heart could be ripped out of your chest, and all you could do was watch it go. Sometimes, the things you did in the name of love were the same things that destroyed you.
She knew how it felt to fall for someone you hated. How it felt to love a person that had hurt you, over and over and over. And how much that hurt, not knowing where the lies ended and the truth began.
That was the thing about loving Shauna. About being with her. About knowing her.
Every touch felt like a blade against her throat. Every kiss, like the press of a trigger. Every moment, a chance at death.
A part of her had always known the blade was real. That the gun was loaded. That one day, her love would come back around. That Shauna would hurt her.
Because that's what Shauna did. She hurt.
Melissa knew all of that.
And yet, despite it, she still loved her.
"I'm gonna fucking kill him," Shauna hissed suddenly. Her hands clenched into fists, her voice low and trembling. “I’ll do it myself. I’ll cut his throat.”
But there was no fire in her words. No spit, no violence in her tone. It sounded more like a vow than a threat. A gentle reminder that she would protect Melissa, that she would avenge her, if that's what she needed.
But Melissa didn’t want blood. She didn’t want to burn the only bridge that could take her home. She just wanted to leave. To get out of this godforsaken place and never come back.
So she reached up and gently shushed her, brushing her thumb over Shauna’s trembling lips.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” she whispered.
She wasn't naive. She knew Shauna was a monster, and that she'd always been a monster. Knew that there was a darkness inside her that was bigger and stronger and more violent than any love they had shared.
But she also knew that monsters aren’t born. They are created. And that meant Shauna could be saved.
It was worth trying.
Shauna was worth trying for.
And that's what love really is, Melissa realized. Not the rush of a kiss, or the warmth of a hug, or even the comfort of a shared laugh. It was the willingness to look at the darkness, and see the light. The choice to believe in the best version of a person, even when that person didn’t exist. The ability to look someone in the eye and see the parts that were good, and kind, and worthy of being loved.
Love was believing, with everything you had, that the other person was worth saving.
Love was seeing the potential.
"Can I stay?" Shauna asked, and there was something in her voice, something raw and broken, that made Melissa's heart ache.
"Yes," she breathed.
And then Shauna leaned down, and kissed her, and it felt like a promise. Like a promise that everything would be okay.
And even though Melissa knew she couldn't fix Shauna, or make her less dangerous, or change the parts of her that had been damaged by the trauma of being out here. Even though she knew that some people, when they're hurt, will always end up hurting others.
Even though all of that, she still chose to stay.
Later that night, when Shauna's fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts, Melissa didn't fight her. Didn't pull away. She didn't even hesitate. She just leaned in and let Shauna fuck her, right there on the floor of the hut, in front of God and everyone else.
It was the softest, most intimate, most loving moment they had ever shared.
They had never done that before. Had never made love. And for the first time, Melissa could see their future stretched out ahead of them. A life where the violence was gone, and the anger was gone, and the fear was gone, and the two of them were free to love each other.
She could feel herself getting close, and she grabbed the back of Shauna's head, her fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her close. Their foreheads pressed together, their noses brushing, and Shauna looked up into her eyes and whispered, "I love you Mel."
And then, with a strangled moan, she came.
It was the first time she had ever heard Shauna say those words, and Melissa knew they would be the last.
As she laid there, her good arm wrapped tight around Shauna's waist, her face pressed into the crook of her neck, her heart so full of love she thought it might burst, she finally understood.
The thing is, the worst part isn't when you realize you're in love with someone. The worst part isn't even when you know they don't feel the same way.
The worst part is realizing, long after the fact, that the person you loved was never real.
And that, no matter how much you wish, or how hard you try, or how much you love them- you can never bring them back.
The worst part is learning, too late, that your love was always one-sided. That the person you thought you knew never existed in the first place. That you spent years chasing a ghost, and every single time, you were the one who died.
Because once the illusion shatters, there's nothing left.
Melissa was never going to be enough for Shauna. No one was.
Shauna’s hands had started to shake again, her face buried in Melissa's shoulder. She could feel her tears on her skin, and her breath hitching, and her heart pounding, and Melissa knew she had to do something.
"I love you, too," she whispered, and it felt like goodbye.