{18+ COMPLETED}
A war that destroyed the world. It came and it went, leaving death and chaos in its wake.
In the resulting turmoil England has split into four regions, a safety measure that was 'essential' to ensure that violence would not reign ov...
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"Really?" Zac snaps. "What the fuck was that then?"
"A mistake," I mutter, pushing past him and heading towards the bedroom. It was definitely a slip up on my part, letting myself fall under his hypnotic gaze, and all for what? A kiss?
Sure, it felt good. Hell, it felt more than good. I felt alive, I felt sexy, I felt needed. But this is Zac, the absolute dickhead of a husband who has never even paid me any real attention.
Not like Sam has for Heidi. Or like Rayden probably has for Lyla...
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing! I just don't want to hook up with you Zac!" I retort, refusing to look back at him. "Why don't you go find one of your usual sluts?"
"Are you serious right now?"
"Yes! I don't fucking care. I don't want you so go and find someone who does," I yell over my shoulder, grabbing onto the bedroom door handle and slamming it shut behind me.
"Fuck you, Emilia!" Zac shouts through the door before he lands one heavy fist onto the wood, making me jump.
I fall back onto the bed, listening as he stomps down the stairs, cursing to himself. Clutching my towel to my body I feel a traitorous tear slide down my cheek, reaching up and angrily swiping it away, not understanding why I'm so frustrated and upset.
I don't even like Zac, so why does every little thing he does make me feel ten times more than I do with anyone else? My emotions are heightened around him, and my normal no nonsense attitude seems to fly out the window.
I'm not surprised when I hear the front door open and instantly slam shut, knowing that it'll be a while before Zac shows his face in this house again.
*~*~*
Striding across the street the next evening, I shove my hands into the pockets of my black jeans, my heeled boots clacking on the tarmac, head held high as I ignore the few people walking past me.
Germain wanted the State to provide a community, she wanted one of those beautiful American neighbourhoods that you used to see in the movies where everyone laughs and makes friends. Without anyone actually disagreeing with the State of course...
That's not how it's worked out, unless you were friends before the world went to shit, the majority of people turn a blind eye to anything else that's going on. No-one trusts anyone and I don't blame them, myself only relying on a select few with my secrets.
The State should still be happy though. Every week, without fail, there's a party at someone's house, usually held by the younger couples, the word spreading quickly, most of the married turning up to drink away their troubles unless they have kids to take care of. Strangers barely make conversation, instead sticking with the people they know, not daring to open themselves up to any new potential threat.
