Stephanie:

I heard myself say. This was more than enough information to take in at one, and I felt almost unable to handle it. My life was spinning before me in the hands of some man I hardly knew, and the control I had so carefully exacted was suddenly gone. Where was my family? My mother? My dog? Were they okay? Who was he? Why was I here? Why had he selected me? He was strange.

He said I was his chosen, and yet... I didn't feel the same for him. I felt... plain. It was a terrible feeling, as if I had been disappointing him the whole time. And I couldn't say anything. He had saved my life, I had owed him as much as to be loyal to him in the very least. What if he decided to hurt me, or strike back because of my disagreement?

I began to prod him with inquiries.

"So... Jack, was it? Tell me more about you. You expect me to jump right in your arms and let you take me away, but I don't know you. That's not how relationships work. My mother always told me that it has to be on consent of both parties to fall in love. Or. Something. You know what I'm talking about, though? I can't just run off with some strange man that I hardly even know." I was totally rambling. He grinned, flipping his hair as he smiled - maybe that was his trademark. And I couldn't really complain - he was awfully perfect, but something... was off.

"Well... I was born on April 13th, XXXX. My mother always told me that she woke up to hear the birds chirping gleefully, and she knew that that was the day I would be brought into the world. She passed when I was younger. Now it's just my father, my younger brother, and me."

So he was twenty three, but I was hardly eighteen. My internal alarms chastised me in disapproval, but I waved them away.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother. Hell, I wish I knew where mine was. But... what about your favorite animal?" I asked, honestly curious. All men had a favorite animal. And it was usually the same thing - a lion, or a wolf, or a dolphin. A dolphin was a little unusual, but it was always something stupidly basic. Women, on the other hand, always expect questions like this, and consider them before hand, so that when the question comes, their answer is always prepared.

"Chinchilla!" he exclaimed, and I snorted with laughter. He blinked, obviously confused. "Something wrong with that?" he asked, and I could see the twinkling in his eyes that signified he'd only been joking. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. It was only a simple question, and it was me trying to get to know more about him. But he had... ignored it, and lied about it. It concerned me.

Who is this man?

I ignored my pestering thoughts, hearing my own tummy rumble in hunger.

"Do we have food?" I questioned, my eyes narrowed and my hand at my tummy.

"No, I'm going to make you starve," he quipped, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Throught the door to your left," he said with a  yawn, and pointed. I followed his directions, feeling his eyes follow me on the way out. 

"If you're tired, you should sleep," I called out to him, before I shut the door behind me. He only chuckled, and fell back against his sheets.

"Get me out of bed some time within the next two days. I'd like to resupply before we hit the road, and we have to get back to camp soon. They'll be expecting us."

I nodded, pretending I had understood his words, when in reality, I had no clue what he was referring to. I didn't really like Jack. It wasn't that he was a bad person, it was just... he seemed not to care. He hadn't confirmed on the outcome of my family, or satiated any of my fears. I didn't feel safe around him, and wasn't sure I could trust him. 

As I searched through several of the pantries in the cramped space he had implied was the kitchen, I heard the shuffling of feet in his room. Pausing my work to stand at the door, I listened closely, my eyes narrowed. He spoke quietly, as if conversing with someone else. His tone was playful, but I couldn't discern the words he was actually speaking. I heard the murmur of another voice, and my brows furrowed. Maybe I was just imagining things.

Collecting my prepared food, I shook my head. I just needed rest.

December 23, XXXX:

The mark of two days. 

The digital watch around my wrist hadn't been damaged in the chaos that had ensued previously. And I couldn't keep my eyes off it. There was no way of telling time down in the hovel he had created, less I checked the scaffold, but honestly, I was fearful that I might encounter Jack. And so I kept to the confines of my room, only leaving when I was certain it was absolutely necessary. And now the time had come for me to get him out of here, or rather, get myself out of here. I had to find my family.

I opened the door to my tiny room, peaking out into an empty hall way. The metal walls glistened in the dim lighting, and I listened for the hint of any sound. Squeezing myself through the doorway, I crept silently down the passageway to his room. I knocked on the door.

Nothing.

Pushing it open, I stared at the lump on the bed. "Jack. Wake up," I mumbled timidly, waiting for a response.

"Five more minutes," he groaned, and my instincts grew irritated. Here he was, lounging in his comfy bed, when people outside had died. When my family had possibly died. When the world was all but over. I clucked at him, eyes narrowed, and stomped out of the room. Snatching a bucket from its comfortable place atop the shelf, I poured the contents of the few, remaining water bottles into its body. Storming back into his room, I stood over him, bucket full of liquired.

"One last chance," I offered.

"You can't make me."

One.

Two.

Three.

Like hell I can't.

With the bucket raised high over my head, I raised my brow, lifted it over him, and then turned it upside down. Water splashing down atop him, he nearly flew from the comfort of his bed, and went crashing into the nearest wall. I bit my lip, restraining a snicker.

"I'm up!" he screamed, looking around frantically. When his gaze finally reached me and my now empty bucket, my blood ran cold. Uh oh.

Throwing the bucket at him, I jumped over the bed and headed for the door, he chasing at my heels. When I had made it to my room, I scampered in and slammed the door shut. He stood banging at the door for several moments, but then stopped, suddenly disappearing.

"Jack?" I asked, tentatively opening my door to peek out. From behind the nearest wall, he pounced out, shoving the door open and pinning me to me own floor.

"Let me up!" I screamed, wriggling beneath him. His hands were at my wrists which were above my head. I pouted up at him, kicking and attempting to give him a nice headbutt. He avoided my attacks with ease, a sly smirk playing at his lips.

"And why would I do that?" he asked, a brow raised. I wasn't gonna lie. He was -really- attractive.

"Please?" I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently. I knew I wasn't the looker, with a simplistic body and a plain face, but guys love the innocent act. I think. Right?

"No."

"PRETTY PLEASE?" I all but begged, batting my eyelashes even faster and flashing the puppy-dog eyes. My lower lip protruded in feign innocence, and he seemed to pause, considering my pleading for a moment. Catching him off guard, I aimed my knee for the place-where-the-sun-don't-shine and shoved the groaning man from on top of me. He shook his head, chuckling despite his pain.

"You're really somethin', huh?" he asked, more so to himself. Nodding, I raised my head haughtily.

"Of course I am. Now let's go," I commanded, the authoritarian part of me conveying that he really didn't have an option whether he liked it or not.

"Sure thing..." he paused, his eyes sparkling with something unfamiliar. Something he wasn't telling me. Something that he probably thought I wouldn't understand. " ... Your Majesty." 

I only rolled my eyes at him. What an idiot.

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