Twisted Part 2

"Pretend that we are making out." she ordered. 

He nodded and pulled her closer.

"How can you be so sure?" he murmured between gentle pecks. His voice carried both curiosity and caution.

"It does not add up," she whispered while kissing him. "These supplies, they were set up to keep us clean. It feels as if someone expected us to act in a certain way."

"You mean some sick bastards planned this? " He clarified. 

"Yes. The order of things, the way the items were placed. It is odd. Who would want us to care for our hygiene in such a place?" 

Zayn couldn't help but agree with her conclusion. Even the tampons—it was too much of a coincidence.

His grip on her waist tightened as he leaned in, pressing his lips against her earlobes. 

"So, we're just entertainment for them? A real-life show where they get to watch us eat, sleep… have sex?" 

Rose kissed him again, slow and deliberate, before whispering against his lips, "Yes… and the worst part? They don't just want to see us survive. They want to see how far we'll go. How much we'll submit to their game."

The realization sent a chill down his spine. If that was really the case, then it meant they were never meant to reach a shore.

Zayn's fingers tensed as he cupped her tits, and he kept up the act, pressing another slow kiss to her lips as his mind raced.

If this was a game, then there has to be rules. There has to be a way to win.

And if that was true, then what was the condition for survival?

A dark thought crept into his mind.

What if only a certain number of them were meant to survive?

Or worse… what if only one person was supposed to make it out alive?

His stomach turned. The setup, the supplies, the controlled environment—it all pointed to it. 

Rose must have noticed the change in his demeanor because she pulled back slightly, her lips barely an inch from his. "What is it?" 

Zayn exhaled slowly, forcing himself to keep his movements natural.

"If this is a sick game, then there has to be a winner. And if there's a winner…"

"There have to be losers," she finished for him.

Their eyes met for a brief second. This time, she lay down, pulling him with her as they covered themselves with a blanket.

His face hovered just above hers, his breath warm against her skin.

But beneath the blanket, his fingers curled into the fabric, his mind racing with the implications of their conversation.

"If we don't get to a shore, the supplies will eventually be depleted, and I'll be forced to make a hard choice," Zayn pointed out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rose's fingers curled against his back; her body still pressed against his beneath the blanket.

"You don't have to… You said that there needs to be a loser, right?"

"Yeah," he murmured, keeping his lips close to her.

"Then why does it have to be one of us? I saw the way you give favoritism to Maya, Hannah, Mika, and even me," Rose's words trailed off. "And you seem to distance yourself from the others… so you can just…"

Zayn froze. "Are you telling me to kill them?"

"No." She shook her head slightly, her fingers still tangled in his hair. "We're not even sure yet if our guess is right. I'm just telling you this, so you'll know who to choose… just in case."

She wasn't asking him to start eliminating people—not yet. But she wanted him to be prepared, to have a plan in case things went south.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "And what if that time comes? What if I have to make that choice?"

"Then you choose the ones who you think deserve to live," 

Zayn clenched his teeth. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that."

Rose's lips brushed against his ear as she whispered, "Hope won't save us. Hope won't feed us when our supplies run out."

She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"And to show you how serious I am, I'll let you do anything to my body. Make me your woman."

He searched her face for hesitation, but there was none. She wasn't saying this out of desperation or blind lust. This was calculated.

A way to prove that she was on his side, that she understood the weight of what he had to do.

His fingers traced the curve of her jaw before tilting her chin up slightly.

"You think that'll prove something?" he asked, his voice low.

"No, but I want to increase my chance of surviving, just like you."

He exhaled slowly. "So that's what this is? A transaction?"

Rose tilted her head slightly, licking his neck. 

"Everything is a transaction," she murmured. "You've already picked favorites. I'm just making sure I stay one of them."