(n.) to find healing by the process of forming scars
"tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."
"why?"
"because nothing about it will change how i feel about you."
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best ranks:
[18: phoebe tonkin]
[18: end of the wor...
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RILEY'S PUNISHMENT FOR DISOBEYING SHANE?
Picking berries.
This time Shane made sure she would do the task by herself and think about all the risks she had put herself in for leaving camp. Though Shane did allow her to take a gun just in case, he was not a monster.
Riley had been out since the sun slowly started to rise from the horizon. She decided to get the task done at the break of dawn to receive a cool, crisp air enough for her to power through and before Carl could wake, so they could pull some tomfoolery today.
Two hours had passed of her picking ripe berries, smoking a crumbled-up cigarette, and carving out doodles into the bark of fallen trees. She had finished with two buckets of fruit and decided to make her way back to camp before the heat tortured her.
Shane's gun tucked in the back of her pants as it moves from the swaying of her hips from one side to the other. The metal handles of the buckets are held in between the palms of her hands and give slight blisters due to the weight.
"Get outta here!" a man yells, startling Riley.
She almost dropped the buckets, but slowly placed them on the ground before dropping the buckets and down to her hands and knees, hiding behind overgrown bushes. The man has yet to hear the girl, keeping his attention to his own. From her hiding spot, Riley peers in between the leaves and sees a man digging into his leather vest pockets and pulls out a metallic lighter. Riley figured she could sneak around him without noticing, but the only flaw in her plan was distance. The girl could escape quietly, but the thought of him checking his surroundings was likely.
To the right of her is a straight shot to camp, to the left is a longer, hidden route. Her outcomes didn't look good, but her staying in the same spot wasn't either. Riley instinctively reaches behind for her gun, but her shaking hand would only slow down her movements, not even close to reaching the gun. She tries to prepare to run, though a simple push to the head would make her hand freeze in mid-air.
"Don't fucking move," a husky voice orders through gritted teeth.
He sees the girl move her hands up to the side of her face, both hands mirroring each other to show surrender.
She presses her eyelids shut, "Please... I don't mean harm..." slowly opening her eyes to turn her head slightly to get a look at the man.
Her eyes land on; tall, buff, and intimidation. His dirty brown hair and his blue eyes narrowed into her own. He holds a crossbow to her head with an arrow ready to be shot if she made the wrong move.
Her chances went from slim to nothing.
The man notices; tall, slender, and shyness. Her long brown locks match her warm amber eyes. She stays kneeling in the dirt with a pounding heart thrashing against her chest.
