The black juice coats Margaret's hands as she picks as many of the berries as she can. Stuffing her face with them surely will leave a stain on her skin, this she knew, but right now, she could care less. The hunger had started to get to her, the violent monster inside her growling for food, for the fulfilling sensation of being full and not empty. Zayn watches her soundlessly as he picks berries for himself. Sometimes a few land on his tongue to then spray a delicious flavor in his mouth as the berry burst but other times, they end up on the foliage that litters the dirt floor.

His dark eyes drag Margaret's face as he puts another berry in his tongue, biting into it with his teeth. The struggle he knows Margaret has gone through, just for him to even fathom what it must have been like for her, sends a shock of pain through his upper body. A soft voice shakes him out of his thoughts.

"What are you staring at?" Her eyes, the color of the leaves on the trees, study him deeply. She notices the change in his gaze, the way he went from what seemed as zoned out to focused. Zayn had already been staring at her face, so he didn't have to move his line of vision anywhere else.

He clears his throat and says, "Well, I guess I was staring at you. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

Momentarily closing his eyes, Zayn decides to go for the easiest answer. "You. Your struggle and determination to make it to the fence...even though we haven't made it back yet, I admire your strength," his voice soft and velvety. Margaret swears she can taste the honey that was pouring from his mouth in the form of words. She is ripped from her very short moment of bliss when she feels a pain in her abdomen again. Will it ever end? she groans. In the back of her head, a quieter voice replies, Well, in a few days it will. Stop being so dramatic. She pushes that annoying whisper away.

"Thank you," she replies to Zayn. He doesn't even know how much that compliment meant to Margaret. Just knowing that he admires her inner strength to continue her journey makes her happier than it should have. The small smile she adds at the end of her short appreciation filled sentence makes Zayn's stomach flutter. Something about Margaret is so intriguing to him. He might even say she is beautiful to him and that he finds her endearing and strong willed. However, he pushes the feeling away, knowing they have a long journey that still lies before them.

Zayn stands up and brushes off his bottom. "We should probably get a move on," he says, reaching a hand out for Margaret. She accepts his offer and grabs it as he hoists her up to stand in front of him. He eyes flit to his and she sucks in a breath at their close proximity. She can't help but feel a little bit of attraction for this man whom she hardly knows. After she had offered for him to sleep in her sleeping bag, she had been feeling an undeniable pull towards him and his dark eyes and long lashes. Her reply is possibly a bit too late.

"Okay."

•••

A night and half a day pass. Margaret and Zayn continue on through the trees, having yet to stop for a break. However, the sound of rushing water sounds somewhere near the pair, causing them to look about the dark forest. I could use a rinse down, Margaret thinks to herself. Her mouth curls upwards as she thinks of how amazing running water would feel rushing over her skin, cleansing her from the grime of the past few weeks. Zayn notices her change in facial expressions. "Do you want to find it?" he asks.

Margaret turns her eyes towards him to find his already on her. Her words get caught in her throat. A few seconds pass. Zayn cocks an eyebrow. Margaret coughs, "Um, yea. Sure." Zayn rolls his eyes at her attempt of playing it cool.

"Um, yea. Sure." She glares at him. His lips move over his teeth as he flashes a grin and sends a quick wink. Margaret groans and starts stomping towards the sound of flowing water. Zayn follows behind, smirking to himself. His gaze follows her as her body moves forwards to push some brambles to the side. Looking back at Zayn, she flicks her head to the newfound creek and smiles.

"Found it, Zayn," her sickly sweet tone conveying her playful mood. To that, Zayn laughs and runs towards her, his bag bouncing across his shoulders, and pushes her through the underbrush. A small scream leaves Margaret's mouth as she stumbles but regains her balance. "You're a lucky one, buster. If I would've fell, you'd be dead meat."

Zayn's eyes sparkle in amusement. "Oh yea? Try me." His backpack is placed on the sandy dirt alongside the forest's edge.

After setting her own bag down and pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, Margaret starts to walk towards Zayn while also moving in a circle. Noticing him also moving in a circle with her makes her smirk. Oh yea, Zayn? Watch this. When Zayn's back faces the creek, Margaret makes her play, running towards him as fast as she can and wrapping her arms around him. She looks up to see his eyes widen in shock and they both fall downwards towards the water.

"Shit!" Zayn exclaims once he feels the cool substance seep through his clothes. He notices that first, however, he very soon realizes that someone's weight was still on his torso, holding him in the creek. Pushing himself upwards, he comes face to face with the female. She is wet, but not nearly soaked like Zayn. Her eyes are squinted as she laughs, the sound making Zayn suck in a breath of air. Margaret takes no notice to how Zayn's reacting to her, but instead pushes herself off of him, standing up to brush of some of the sand that covered her knees.

Zayn stays laying in the water, watching as Margaret pulls her hair out of it's confinements. She might not be extremely clean at the moment, but Zayn thinks she looks beautiful. Feeling Zayn's eyes on her, Margaret turns toward him with a contented smile on her face. "Well, I tried, didn't I, Zayn?"

He lets out a laugh, "You sure did. And you succeeded. Remind me to never piss you off." Margaret also laughs at that, shaking her head. Zayn stands up out of the water, feeling it drip down his body. "Wanna take a quick dip?"

•••

"Hello, ma'am. Is your name Shelly?"

"Yes."

"Do you, by any chance, happen to have a daughter?"

"Yes." Shelly shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her hands shake an unnoticeable amount before she crosses her arms over her chest.

The woman before her is wearing a white, long sleeved dress with a notepad resting on her bent forearm, her pen poised over the sheets of paper. "This fact was already known, but we thank you for your cooperation. Your daughter...Margaret, is it?" Shelly nods her head once in confirmation. "Margaret has been spotted in quadrant three recently. Any idea of her intentions?" The repetitive clicking of the tip of the pen fills Shelly's ears.

The mother stands taller and unfolds her arms, "I don't have any idea what she is doing, or is planning on doing."

"Lies," the woman hisses. She reaches forward and clutches Shelly's neck, pulling her towards the white vehicle parked on the curb. "Considering your daughter knows more than you let on, you will face the penalty." Shelly is shoved into the vehicle with the door then slammed shut on her face. Her eyes begin to water as she shakes her head back and forth repeatedly. This cannot be happening, this cannot be happening, she repeats over and over to herself, though these subtle reassurances don't even begin to lessen her mental pain.

The female in white places herself in front of the driving wheel and shifts out of park. With her foot on the break and a wicked smile plastered over her face, she peers at Shelly in the rear view mirror. "And you know what the penalty is..."

Yes, Shelly acknowledges in her mind. Out loud she puts on her brave face and replies, "Death."

•••

His mouth parts in awe at the beauty before him. His witty suggestion of a quick dip certainly paid well. He cannot help but flit his eyes up and then drag them down again, wanting to remember this captivating scene.

"Isn't this waterfall amazing?" he calls over his shoulder to Margaret, who stands in only her undergarments like Zayn himself. She advances nearer to him and replies, "Yes, it's very lovely." They'd wandered a ways upstream before coming across this waterfall that connects the body of water above them to the river they stand in. They both then move even closer, and as they do, they sink into the steepening depth of the river. Margaret can now hardly touch the tips of her toes to the rocky bottom.

"Let's check it out," Zayn begins to swim towards the tumbling water, now getting his hair completely soaked by the splashes formed on impact. The girl follows silently, and is surprised when Zayn ends up getting swallowed underneath the falls. Even so, she swims even closer until she too is consumed by falling water. Her hands reach forward in her moment of blindness to reach for something to grab onto when her hands land on flesh. Zayn's tensed reaction goes unseen, luckily for him. Margaret's, however, does not. With her eyes still closed but now more tightly, lips parted as air is inhaled inside her lungs, Zayn cannot imagine a more bewitching sight. Without noticing, his hands reach forward and pull her to him. Their chests are pressed together as her green eyes open again, only to be met by such a brown that cannot be explained with words.

His eyes, the eyes that float throughout her dreams. The eyes she has never thought to be inserted in such a man that arouses such feelings that she's never heard of or even known existed. Zayn is the cause for all her confusion, yet she feels like every question she's ever had has been answered. These lovely eyes which now that Margaret thinks about it, are extremely close to her, and about the same distance away are his lips from her own. She doesn't know what to do, but it seems Zayn does, so she begins to lean forward with him, closing that gap between them. Her instincts tell her to close her eyes, so she does, and just when she feels a small puff of warm breath on her awaiting lips, it is gone. When she opens her eyes to look at Zayn, he instantly is filled with regret at his weakness. Nothing can bring back the moment that he has already released into the wind. The male wants to smack himself repeatedly but chooses not to, knowing that even if he did, it wouldn't give him the strength to do anything (even something as subtle as a kiss) to this innocent girl.

"I-" he begins to explain himself before he is interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"What the hell is this?"

A/N: I'm so, so, so, sooo sorry for the super long wait! I was on vacation for a week and didn't have any time to write. But, here's your update!

Xoxo,
Fae (: