in which he - our tortured and undeniably insane protagonist - lusts after something so precious, so delightfully innocent and out of his league, that it almost breaks him.
in this new world, corrupted by death and the evilness of man, anything goes...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧
HOURS TURNED into days, days turned into weeks, and pretty soon Shane and Cassandra had claimed the cosy farmhouse, not as a place to lie low while they thought of a plan, but as their home. Soon enough, the deadly encounter with Dave and Tony had been forgotten, and the pair now felt safe; enveloped in the beloved familiarity of domesticity.
The keen-eyed deputy preferred going on supply-runs on his own, selecting isolated gas stations in the middle of nowhere, that he knew would be devoid of any kind of presence - alive or dead. Eventually, however, Shane thought it prudent to teach his porcelain-skinned companion the ways of survival, in case anything were to happen to him. She was getting far too comfortable roaming around their fenced-in sanctuary - almost forgetting that they were the only living, breathing creatures in the vicinity - and that hardly reassured him, as much as he did enjoy seeing her content.
And so, her curly-haired savior, after having discovered an array of rifles and revolvers - along with a plethora of rounds - stored away safely in the basement, decided to teach the bold and brazen beauty how to shoot.
"Raise your arm a little," Shane coaxed, his broad frame pressed close to that of the 5'3 damsel, his calloused fingers cupping the side of her hand gently as he straightened her downy limb and brought it upwards by just a few degrees. Shadowing her every move, he bent down just slightly, his umber hues sharp and focused as he gazed straight down at the target - an empty beer bottle.
To Cassandra, he was Ares, god of war; all bronze skin, eyes like glimmering onyx set in marble, and rippling muscles, primed like a bow and ready for the fight.
"And don't forget to breathe in, this time," he reminded her, his voice low and his warm breath tickling the side of her neck intimately. It left a flurry of butterflies swarming around the strawberry blonde's gut and the tiny hairs on her arms prickling as she stifled the shiver that threatened to roll leisurely down her spine. Shane allowed his hand to drop from hers, letting her support the gun on her own as he skimmed the very tips of his roughened fingers against her slender waist, and then down to her lower vertebrae, before taking a step back. "Squeeze the trigger. Don't pull."
If Shane was Ares, Cassandra was most certainly his Aphrodite. Even while cradling a deadly weapon, the doe-eyed seductress was the very vision of immaculate beauty, with her pink, pouty, rosebud lips pursed in concentration, and the sun's gleaming rays bouncing off the silken expanse of her soft, peachy skin. Mesmerised, he watched as she inhaled, and her finger caressed the trigger, resulting in a deafening crack, followed by the sound of glass shattering.
"Did I get it?" she questioned, her excitement endearingly child-like and her cheeks flushing shell-pink.
Grinning, the curly-haired deputy peered into the distance, rumpling the unruly mop atop his head with strong digits. "Looks like you clipped it, darlin'," came his proud reply. "We're gettin' there."
![𝒍𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂 ➶ [ s. walsh ]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/87827254-64-k805208.jpg)