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Melissa isn’t really sure what she was doing when she placed those small yellow daises on his grave. She had watched Shauna dig into earth with bare hands, surely inbedding black grime into the ridges of her fingerpads. Dirt that Melissa imagines she would not be able to swipe away with just pressure and palms, if Shauna would let her try. But really, Shauna would never let anyone try. Melissa’s english teacher always gave her extra praise on her usage of metaphors when there was still papers to write.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself. Shauna has been so alone. She’s separated from everyone else in fear of her own creation. She is violent, mean, and passionatly brutal. And now Mari’s is missing, and Melissa didn’t think it was smart to let anyone go out on their own no matter how much they command it. Whatever - or whoever - made those screams the night before could be lurking behind any engraved tree. Plus, Melissa would be lying if she said she wasn’t even a little curious of what Shauna was sneaking off to do.
And so, she found herself trailing behind her like a much less threatening Natilie, or Gen now, she guesses, hunting game. Shauna would be the one to hunt her, though. Shauna could do so much, has threatened to do as much to anyone, which is what scares the others. But Melissa isn’t as much as scared (at least not in an unpleasant way) as she is intrigued to understand. To get close to the doe-eyed girl who has not been a doe for a long, long, time. She is drawn to the power Shauna holds that comes from fear she commands from the group. A mix of intense trepadation and not so much respect. The red-hot violence burrowed in her fucked up head.
It would be more than a lie to deny Melissa’s attraction to her.
She has known she isn’t exactly straight since way before she decided to try for a sport. Any doubts were only extinguished once she interacted with Shauna for the first time, among almost every other girl on the team. She’s really fucking gay, okay? She gets it now. She’s queer and lonely and can’t help but stare a little too long at soft skin and lips or peaks and valleys of a side profile or the point of connection during a particularly handsy game. It doesn’t take much for her to develop crushes on anyone. The lines of who she likes platonically and romactically are so blurry she must be blind. She still understands attraction. Her mind still works well, hopefully.
But maybe not, because she hesitantly creeps out of the bright green brush turned in on herself like a scared cat when Shauna commands for whoever did it to show themselves. The knife in her hold glints at Melissa in the sun. It’s the same one that was used to separate Javi’s meat from his bones months ago. That fact alone is threat enough.
And then shes talking to Shauna. She’s trying to be cool about it in an apology and admission to how much she admires her, in whatever way Shauna will take it. They are not home anymore, it doesn’t really matter.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, “For everything that has happened to you.” Uncut rage bubbles under Shauna’s skin at the apology. Melissa can image why. She keeps trying anyway.
“You’re, um… You’re so resilient, and that’s important out here,” Shauna stares with an unreadable expression, her whole body rising and falling with each adrenaline filled breath. Melissa remembers the way she stood over Lottie, half-dying, bleeding, and bruised. That was likely the moment Shauna evolved in their eyes. She continues, “Everyone’s afraid of you, you know?” She doesn’t mean for it to sound like a taunt, or like she is trying to get Shauna to be better. Shauna twitches, ever so briefly, and suddenly, Melissa doesn’t know what to say.
“But, like… I’m not,” she tries, cringing inwardly but hoping for some connection to be made between them, for Shauna to understand that she is seen. Hope doesn’t mean shit.
In the time it takes for Melissa to process the appalled expression she already has the wind knocked out of her against rough bark. It scratches at her back through both layers of clothing, and her lungs try to take in air so she can get away, or stop the sudden pain. The struggle distracts her enough that it takes two quick and empty breaths for her to regain consciousness of everything else.
There is a knife to her throat. The cold tip ghosts hairs on her neck, and when she breathes, rapid as a river, the metal makes contact. It doesn’t actually hurt, but her throat tenses in preparation for something each touch. It’s like she can already feel the black blood pouring out of her jugular. For a few moments she waits to see herself squirt liquid all over Shauna’s smiling face and smooth neck, for the sight of the butcher covered in her blood to be the last she ever sees, but it doesn’t happen. The girl is seething, and Melissa drops her head back into the sharp bark to try and get away. It’s futile; she is trapped. Shauna is going to kill her, to gut her, to eat her.
And she is really, really, fucking hot. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Shauna’s voice whips against her face as she speaks, her whisper barely is one, it's taking all of Shauna’s power not to shout. “If you tell anybody about this,” her face inches closer, eyes wild and intense, head shuddering on her neck, “I will fucking kill you!” Shauna is trying to scare her with what's within, maybe separate from, her genuine anger and fear so hard that she struggles to speak. In barely computing this in her brain, Melissa is not as overcome with fear of a slit throat. Shauna won’t, she wouldn’t. Probably? She wants Melissa to think she will, that’s certain, but would she? Can Melissa take a less than calculated risk here? Worst case scenario she’s killed, probably ritualistically consumed by her friends, but that's likely to happen anyway. When Melissa looks at Shauna’s fuming face, and feels Shauna’s left hand tightly gripping her shoulder to the tree, feels the kiss of the knife on her neck, she realizes she wants this. She wants to get gutted, she wants to be eaten by the woman pinning her. She wants to be fucking consumed and devored by Shauna. The want, the months of loneliness and torture, of cannibalistic regression, of starving and smelling like shit, of barely being human blow reason away with wind. It’s like something takes control of tense muscles. They writhe under the tight suit of skin. Her bones creak like trees with each hyperventilation. She doesn’t want this, she needs this. She needs this like they all needed Jackie. Needed Javi. She needs this. She needs this. Shauna needs this.
Melissa doesn’t even hear what Shauna vocalizes next before she pounces.
When her mouth is on Shauna’s she is able to breath steady again through her nose. The air comes in soft like blood steadily streaming from carcasses. It’s like the knife isn’t there. The rigidness from Shauna’s body exhales too. Melissa can’t see her, her eyes are closed and she can already feel herself losing, but Shauna stops shuddering and her lips are open too as they accommodate Melissa’s. It feels rough. It feels like heaven.
The suction between their lips separates with an embarrassingly loud pop when Melissa is pushed back against the tree, more slow and soft now. The newfound gentle touch (at least in the context of the earilar assault) does nothing to quell widening eyes. She just got pushed away. What the fuck did she just do?
The sharp tip of the knife momentarily caresses Melissa’s neck as Shauna holds her back again. She’s pressing the back of her head into the tree’s bark as hard as she can in an attempt to make distance, something Shauna certainly is not doing herself. This time, Shauna’s face isn’t rageful. There is nothing bubbling below the surface, not fury, atleast. It's been so long since Melissa has seen anything like this on her that she finds it unreadable. Shauna’s brown eyebrows knit together in concern and her even more brown eyes are wide. They almost resemble a puppy’s with how unprecedentedly innocent they look. Melissa can’t breathe. She is sure she appears stupid and unattractive in contrast to the electric person pinning her.
Shauna is looking at her, in her eyes. It literally feels like Shauna is looking in her. As Melissa stares back, stunned and useless, she watches Shauna’s eyes dart down to her mouth. Her mouth that just tried to consume Shauna, and oh God, she is fucked. She is so dead.
Melissa is unsuprised to feel the blade press into her again. She takes a sharp breath through her gaping mouth, preparing to feel her insides come outside, but she’s unable to take anything in.
Shauna kisses her.
Shauna consumes her back.
The knifepoint imbedded softly in her neck because Shauna pressed herself back into Melissa with just as much starvation as she had with Shauna. The breath never came because she met Shauna back with the same instincts that led her to pick the smoked flesh from Jackie’s charred corpse without thought. Carnal need of animals. She kisses her back. And they kiss. Her core is burning.
Melissa doesn’t realize her backside left the tree until Shauna pushes her against it, again, with her bodyweight. Shauna's lips scoop into her open mouth as soon as there is nowhere else for Melissa’s head to go against the tree and her own desperate need to press against whatever Shauna gives her. Her hands reach to grasp at Shauna’s waist through her flannel (and Jackie’s shirt, but it hurts to think about that), and she pushes her palms into the boney dips. Shauna’s hands don’t shift, including the one holding the butcher’s knife. Her left only grips impossibly harder into Melissa’s shoulder until she is sure Shauna must be crunching bone. It looks like quite the awkward make out, Melissa’s sure.
That doesn’t mean shit to her, though. When Shauna’s lips move back from the kiss, Melissa chases them with an open mouth even though she knows its not to leave. It's pathetic, the way she can’t stand a second apart. She doesn’t care that each time the blade catches on her skin, undoubtedly scratching it an angry pink line. It can’t be any pinker than her own flushing cheeks. She wants to reach up and cup Shauna’s to see if she can feel heat there too, maybe pull her face impossibly closer, but Shauna hasn’t moved her hands yet, and for some reason she doesn’t want to move until Shauna grants her unspoken permission.
What she does want, however, is for Shauna to be even deeper. For her herself to be even deeper. Melissa knows she is not the one in control of this situation, she is not the one who gets to ask for things here. So instead, in between the kisses, she settles on opening her lips wide when she goes in for the next one.
Shauna’s entire top lip ends up going into her mouth in the process. When she feels it on her tounge, she presses the muscle against it and closes her lips around it. It’s messy, and definitely a little gross when a droplet of saliva drips out the corner of her mouth. Her instinct is to suck it back in, but in the process she sucks on Shauna’s lip, making her partner gasp and tear away. For a brief moment, Shauna’s top lip is caught in the suction of Melissa’s mouth. It’s gorgeous, and so, so hot.
But Shauna tearing away obviously means they are not kissing. Which sucks a lot and Melissa would very much like to change that. She attempts to dive back in, but is stopped when she feels something very sharp preventing her from swallowing. The knife, still there, and being pressed into her with the intention of keeping her down. Uselessly, she tries again to reach Shauna’s mouth, as if the action will cause the blade to disappear, but she’s met with the sharp sting again. She whines.
Shauna, meanwhile, has been looking at her with mild disgust, apparently. In her desperation Melissa did not notice this until she started whining like a bitch. Only the sound of both of their heavy breathing and tree leaves cushions her mortification. But then Shauna glances back down at her lips not dissimilar to how she did minutes ago and stares, licking her own with downward eyes. The knife holds steady. Melissa manages a gulp despite the blade.
The blade's still, until it isn’t. Shauna continues to stare at Melissa’s lips as they pant when she delicately drags the point across her throat. Melissa can feel her pulse thrum wildly as it pumps blood everywhere except up against the metal. Shauna isn’t pressing down hard enough to break through her skin, but it still stings and takes a bit of loose cells with it all the way up to Melissa’s jawbone when Shauna applies more pressure with sick concentration. Melissa sucks air through her teeth at the sting, causing her to become even more light headed than she is already and her ribs to rise upward with her chest. Shauna watches her movements, eyes now on the skin covering Melissa’s jawbone, as she stresses the unconnected tissue enough to cause it to quake and slide against the encased skull. If the skin was not there, she would be grinding the knife against marrow. She might as well be. Melissa winces as a small bead of blood is coaxed to the surface, but she just keeps looking at Shauna. Shauna softly smiles, despite everything. It’s beyond fucked up, whatever they are doing right now. Melissa has never been this turned on.
Then Shauna eases pressure from the new flesh wound and paints the red blood up the corner of Melissa’s shuddering jaw. Melissa can feel the trail in the slight Spring breeze. It’s cold, sharp, and slightly uncomfortable, so her arm jerks for a moment to wipe it away before it goes limp again. She just can’t bring herself to move right now. Not unless Shauna tells her too.
The knife has been dragged until it is almost falling into the corner of her mouth when Shauna pierces her eyes by only looking into them. She lightly taps the point a few times where it rests, seemingly thinking. Glancing at Melissa’s lips, lower face slightly bloodied, Shauna whispers through her own heavy breathing, “Open your mouth.”
Is she actually going to put it in her…? The thought is both horrifying and exhilarating. Shauna points the blade perpendicular to where it rests at the corner of her mouth, swaying it in painless half moon circles while she waits and watches. It’s as if she's screwing something into Melissa’s cheek. For a moment Melissa only shudders, considering not letting the mildly- honestly, just plan unstable person who has literally butchered someone put a weapon in her mouth, but then she sees the way Shauna can’t stop shifting her doe eyes all around her face, as if she is desperate too, as if she actually wants Melissa for Melissa. The idea of that is so nice, so comforting somehow, and certainly fucking hot, so despite herself and anyones better judgement Melissa parts her lips to half-mast. The hold to keep her lower jaw still requires effort, it feels unnatural and she is feeling a little too much of everything right now so there is a dull ache in the muscles’ keep. Her breathing finally slows down to warm pants that Shauna must feel on her own face as Melissa looks down her partner's body, and then back up to lips, and finally to her hand that holds a deadly weapon. She tries to telepathically beg Shana to just do whatever she’s going to do to her. The anticipation is murderous. Lucky for her, Shauna takes the knife about a centimeter away from Melissa’s skin. She carries it steady and slow to her open mouth. Both of them watch warm breath fog up the reflective blade. Melissa prepares to taste metal on her tongue, or to have a knife ruthlessly jabbed down her exposed throat, but nothing comes. Instead, she watches Shauna inch it slow all the way past her mouth and to the other corner. She looks up to her eyes to try and get a read on what Shauna is trying to do when she feels it. Shauna’s left hand finally moves and releases the grip it has on her shoulder while the knife is held untouching to her face. In response, Melissa finally feels able to move her tense hands from Shauna’s waist to grasp desperately at nothing on her shoulder blades, balling the flannel’s fabric in her left hand to ground her body from floating up into the sky away from all of this. Shauna doesn’t react beyond graciously letting Melissa’s strength pull her a few centimeters closer. She taps the blade on Melissa’s lip. Once, twice, and then tranfixes her stare on the left crease of her mouth. Her eyes flex before they move to look at Melissa. She brings her left hand up to Melissa’s chin, pressing her thumb down and pulling her mouth back open. Melissa didn’t even realize she let it drift close. Then, the blade moves again until it makes contact with that left corner of her mouth. Anticipating some type of pain or intense sensation after all of this build-up, Melissa closes her eyes. The pattern continues, and there is nothing but a small scrape. Shauna uses the flat part of the knife’s blade to scratch the drying spit from Melissa’s mouth. Melissa completely forgot it was there. In the absence of anything happening really, all Melissa feels is want. She’s tired of this nothing. Of this game of taunt Shauna is playing with her. She forces herself to stay still for a little while longer.
Once Shauna cleared the drool away to her satisfaction, Melissa watches as she draws the butcher knife away from her skin. For a moment she fears that she’s is going to be left here, but then Shauna turns the knife in on herself. On her mouth.
Staying close to Melissa’s face, Shauna puts the blade in her mouth instead. She licks what she’s collected from Melissa, tasting a mix of spit and blood. It’s a bit gross if it’s thought about, but lucky for them both, Melissa isn’t doing much thinking at the moment. Her partner gets quite a bit into it, trying to put on a show for the person in front of her. It’s unnecessary, Melissa wants to kiss her senseless no matter, but nice to watch nonetheless. Shauna’s tongue curls around the sharp side of the blade and she licks it slow, sensual. Melissa stares at her tongue, barely able to hold herself back from pouncing on Shauna again. Instead, she looks into Shauna’s eyes, her own pleading and glossy. Enjoying the desperation Shauna receives from her, she does it again, this time holding eye contact and sticking her soft twitching tongue out a milimeter. It’s addictive, the sight. Melissa is drawn to the way the pink muscle curves, glistening, like a lake’s wave made of flesh. She wants to feel it.
Shauna presses the blade harder into herself uncaringly. As if she is not aware or she’s unconscious of the possibility of hurting herself, too lost in the heat of this moment, of being desired this much.
“Fuck!”
Of course, putting a regularly sharpened butcher knife in your mouth runs the risk of drawing blood. Both of the girls flinch when Shauna yanks the blade out of her mouth, dropping the hand that holds it to her side. For the first time for this whole interaction, the knife is just a knife, as long as Melissa doesn’t think about it too hard. With her other hand, Shauna touches her parted lips and makes a halfstep backwards onto crunchy underbush. Melissa brings her right arm up to place a helping hand on Shauna shoulder, but decides against it. That’s a quick way to end it all. Shauna clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, probably tasting blood, and then sticks her finger in her mouth to see. Once its out, yep, there’s a dot of diluted red. It’s sort of ironic that Shauna ended up being the one with a knife wound in the mouth. Melissa steps forward.
“I’m fine,” Shauna says curtly. Melissa leans away. In seeing this, Shauna steps forward into Melissa’s personal space. She looks angry again, but Melissa can’t figure out what she did, if anything at all. “I’m fine,” Shauna repeats, intense and irate. Her head is tipping into Melissa’s space so much that they almost touch foreheads.
Melissa nods. “I believe you.”
Shauna huffs, nodding back and grazing Melissa with her gaze. Melissa just looks down at her, waiting. Shauna worries her lip between her teeth, drawing Melissa’s eyes to movement. The enamel comes back pinked from blood. Shauna scoffs again, the hand holding the knife twitches until it drops, stabbing the earth. Melissa’s first thought is to pick it up for her, but she’s encaged, again , by Shauna. The now empty hand reaches up to cup Melissa’s face. So this isn’t done , she thinks. Melissa knows she’s grinning stupidly. A thumb moves to wip at left over dried blood. The fingerpad is unnexpectantly calloused when she feels the force applied. Shauna rubs a few times, bites her lip once more in frustration. Melissa lets her do whatever she wants. That’s been this whole interaction, hasn’t it? Eventually, Shauna wets her thumb with her tongue and attempts to use her own spit to wash away the blood grains. The results seem to annoy her, if the furrow in her brow means anything.
“You look gross,” Shauna accuses.
“...What?”
“There’s… There’s just more blood now.” Shauna takes her limp hands away.
“I don’t care,” Melissa answers. She finds enough courage to touch Shauna without prompt. Her hands find her elbows where they lay almost on both sides of her waist. “Your’re bleeding too,” she adds.
Shauna grunts with exasperation. “I hate you,” she says with venom. “Why can’t you just…”
“I don’t hate you.”
A bird flies away, wings whistling. “Do you like this?” Shauna asks. Its more of an accusation than a question.
“You cut me,” Melissa reminds, “And yourself.”
Shauna gets a half-step closer. “You’re a freak,” she tells. Melissa doesn’t see any point in denying it.
“Yeah.”
With one loud inhale from Shauna and a hunting pounce, the girl is back on her again. Kissing her, much deeper this time. Finally. Shauna exhales into her open mouth, Melissa can feel it on her tongue. She can almost taste the air. Melissa can certainly taste copper blood still wafting from the wound. Every swip must sting Shauna, yet she keeps it up anyway, as if she likes it. She probably does. Melissa would.
With the knife gone, and the unspoken “stay still,” rule abolished, Shana’s hand is on her neck and the other is worming it’s way up her shirt. The first try Shauna is only able to get under one layer of clothing, but not soon enough does she fiddle her way to skin. The girls hand is warm, comfortable. It squeezes her lower back, light but apparent. Melissa finds the hand on her waist with her own and presses it harder. She wants it to dig inside. Melissa’s other hand returns the favor. She does her best to sensually creep her fingers up Shauna’s side, caressing gentle taps and scratches into the skin. Shauna sighs and bites Melissa’s lower lip. Melissa groans. She finds her way blind into Shauna’s mossy hair and yanks, causing Shauna to pull her lip with her teeth. It hurts good and serves to make Melissa’s lower half hotter.
Shauna scrapes her teeth away and moves to Melissa’s neck. At the first wet open-mouth kiss right where the knife was held, Melissa finds both of her hands in Shauna’s hair. One pulls her away, and the other pushes her down. In retaliation of being the one banged around, Shauna nips and pulls skin, darting her tongue once to wet it. Melissa’s grip loosens, she gets the message, and soon she is a gasping mess short of resting hands in tangled hair as Shauna bites down her neck.
Once Shauna reaches collarbone, she gives a strangely normal peck to its peak. She looks up at Melissa through her eyelashes and does nothing. Melissa finds her with her eyes, wondering why everything has stopped so suddenly, and that is when she realizes Shauna has her right where she wants her. Shauna smirks, Melissa can’t see it, but she can feel it, and licks the bone. Melissa gasps, all of the air leaving her body above Shauna, and drops herself completely backwards into the tree while trying to get her hands under Shauna’s clothing. She needs to feel her skin. As she does this, losing herself in the feeling of Shauna licking, kissing, sucking in torturous rhythm, Shauna begins to take off Melissa’s overshirt. She shuffles her own shoulders, as if asking Melissa to get her flannel off. Melissa wouldn’t have it any other way. She finds the collar and yanks it down on both sides. Shauna has gotten Melissa’s over shirt off her shoulders, only still on because Melissa can’t seem to take her hands down and away from Shauna, when Shauna pushes down the collar Melissa’s crop t-shirt, and then one of her bra straps, to get even more access to Melissa’s collarbones and cleavage. She opens her mouth, draws her head back into the hands that have found their way back into her tangled hair, and…
Bites. Bites as hard as a wolf eating raw flesh. Melissa half expects to look down and see a chunk of her flesh missing, to see Shauna chewing, eating her . Melissa moans loudly at the pain, and without taking her teeth from what is surely Melissa’s dermis at this point Shauna stuffs her left pointer and middle finger in Melissa’s gaping mouth, pushes down on her tongue and pinches her jaw with her thumb. It hurts, and with the newfound digits in her mouth, Melissa chokes a little. Her eyes begin to well up with tears and she is completely uncontrollable when she cries out again, moaning.
Shauna finally unsinks her teeth, and Melissa is shocked to see no blood was actually drawn. Maybe even a little disappointed?
“Shut the fuck up,” Shauna breathlessly commands, still holding Melissa’s jaw, literally. Melissa can’t speak on the account of her mouth being full, so she manages a painful nod and sinks down more against the tree, inadvertently taking Shauna with her. Shauna kisses her again, this time on the other side of the jaw she is holding, but it’s awkward. Both of them are about one wrong lean away from falling, and if the tree decided to get up and walk away, Shauna would be on top of her right now. Which sounds nice, great even, but in the spirit of not wanting to fall and get knocked out somehow and end all of this Melissa shuffles one foot forward so her knee is under Shauna. Shauna doesn’t get the hint or even notice because she’s too busy now kissing the blood off of Melissa’s face (and almost falling over) so Melissa decides to take matters into her own hands by finding Shauna’s shoulders and pushing her down to a semi-seat on her knee.
Shauna fucking moans. And oh God, Melissa realizes what she’s done and it’s the hottest thing she has even seen, ever felt. Shauna moans, without trying to stop herself, even though she had just punished Melissa for daring to express her pleasure. She pauses in kissing Melissa to seek out her own pleasure, grinding to a seat and jamming herself onto Melissa’s knee. Melissa can feel the warmth, the dampness. It’s intoxicating. Shauna must think it feels so good that Melissa should feel it too, so she jams her own knee under Melissa and- Jesus. Nothing in the wilderness has been this good since she has gotten here. Nothing.
Shauna takes her fingers out of Melissa’s mouth and drags them down her lips and neck until she finds her shirt. She starts to kiss Melissa proper again, except this time it’s barely kissing or making out, its more like a rough slam of bodies and lips and tongues on to each other, breathing the same air that just exited the others lungs. Could one get carbon monoxide posioning from this? Melissa would like to find out.
As Melissa half-grinds in tandem with Shauna, Shauna forces her hands to her sides and slides her own palms up Melissa arms until she reaches her over shirt. She takes it off of her and drops it down. Her hands then find the hem of Melissa’s top, and she pulls it up until Melissa gets the message to raise her arms over her head so the annoying piece of fabric can be properly discarded. Now only in her bra, one strap falling down her shoulder, and cut shorts, Melissa reaches to try and get Shauna’s own tops off, but the other doesn’t comply as well as Melissa did. Shauna continues kissing, grinding down on Melissa’s knee, and pushing her back to the tree, scraping it even more red now that there is nothing there to protect it. Uselessly, Melissa paws at Shauna’s side and keeps her lips open wide for Shauna to do whatever she wants with.
Continuing to get worked up, Shauna starts to fuck up her own knee into Melissa in tandum with her movements, even harder than before. It feels like heaven, and Melissa finds herself dropping her head backwards against the tree, neck exposed. Some carnal part of her hopes Shauna will bite it again, or press the blade into it and slit it, but all she feels is Shauna’s warm and heavy pants and open mouth.
Melissa begins to try to get something off of Shauna again, finding her shoulders and practically ripping the dirty old flannel from its seams downward. The fabric hangs from Shauna elbows and dangles around her waist, not exactly off yet, but progress nonetheless. Shauna bounces up, knee and all, to kiss Melissa again. It’s as if she is trying to dispel something, or drown something in the lake of kisses. Each press of their lips hurts a little at this point. They are both kiss-bitten. Melissa is sure that her lips will be as red and angry as blood once this is over. She’s not eager to find out just yet.
Melissa finally manages to get the stupid fucking flannel off Shauna, replicating the same force Shauna had used to get her own overshirt off her body. As soon as it falls to the earth, Melissa is pushing her palms under the pale shirt- Jackie’s shirt. Shauna starts thrusting her knee even harder into Melissa all while grinding down herself. It’s divine. If Lottie’s little forest cult felt like this, Melissa would of been Mari level dickriding that shit much sooner. It’s so much. Melissa can’t think straight.
As Melissa begins to get the shirt from she-who-shall-not-be-named-right-now off, she mindlessly begins to babble and plead. She pleads and continues to try and get it off, so, so eager to hopefully pull Shauna’s bare upper half against her and feel the skin to the skin. It’s almost off- almost there, over Shauna’s face as she still grinds, the underside off the factory embroidered butterfly right over where Shauna’s mouth is and Melissa can’t wait to kiss her again, hopes to get to bite her, to get to feel more off her, to feel Shauna, Shauna, Shauna, Shauna, the girl who can kill, has butched, can kill her, will probably one day eat her, Shauna-
The air and foundation is yanked from under Melissa. She falls down the tree, scraping her bare back all the way down until there is a pang shooting up her tailbone when she falls on an exposed root. Once her vision comes back and her raw from falling palms have found some leaves to clutch, she sees Shauna standing over her. Her face is red and wild. Her mouth and chin is slick with spit. The shirt is back on her, and her fingers clutch at the hem on either side. She is practically hyperventilating when she falls to the side to retrieve the knife from where is sticks in the earth. She steps back, onto the flannel by accident where she almost trips and falls on her ass like Melissa has. Melissa doesn’t know what happened. What switched. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just sits and stares, heavy panting and desire still curling in her belly.
Shauna picks up the flannel and puts it on. Still looking alarmed, she adjusts her hair by putting it in a ponytail with a band around her wrist. She swallows dryly, “Wait ten minutes to come back.” Her voice is plain, as if nothing had happened. As if she simply convinced Melissa to not tell anyone about the new resting place for her deceased baby. She continues, “No one can know we were here.”
Adjusting her flannel and hair once more, Shauna gives a curt nod Melissa’s way and turns to walk off. She’s about to leave Melissa sitting there, idiotic and shellshocked, but instead she turns to add salt to the wound.
“Your neck is really fucked up. Make sure no one can see that.”
Shauna leaves. The bird comes back in her wake.