Survival Expert

Their skirts, damp from the seawater, clung tightly to their bodies, outlining the curves of their hips.

The fabric strained as they bent forward, pressing against them in ways that made Lucas momentarily forget he was exhausted.

He stared.

Ogled, really.

And then —

SMACK!

A sharp slap hit the back of his head.

"Ow! What the — " Lucas spun around, rubbing his skull. Maya stood there, eyebrow raised, her hand still in the air from where she had smacked him.

"Really?" she deadpanned.

Lucas cleared his throat, quickly looking away from the girls. "I — I was just — uh — making sure they didn't drop the fish!"

Maya scoffed. "Uh-huh. And you were super focused on the fish, right?"

Lucas coughed. "Of course! I take my job very seriously."

Maya just rolled her eyes, but she was smirking. "Sure you do, perv."

Lucas groaned, rubbing his face. "You can't blame me! It's been weeks since we've been stuck here. I'm only human!"

Maya shook her head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get caught staring next time. Someone less nice than me might throw a fish at your head."

Lucas sighed, returning to his work.

He made extra sure to keep his eyes on the fish this time.

Still, his mind wandered.

#####

Lucas groaned inwardly as he scraped the rough edge of his knife along another fish, removing the silvery scales that stuck stubbornly to its skin.

His fingers were sore, his back ached, and if he had to smell one more whiff of raw fish guts, he was going to lose his mind.

"How long have we been doing this?" he thought, glancing at the sky.

The sun had barely moved since they started, and it felt like they had been at it for hours. He rolled his shoulders, trying to stretch out the tension in his back.

The worst part? The lingering stench in his hair.

Maya had smacked him earlier for ogling, and unfortunately for him, her hand had been soaked in fish water at the time.

Now, the scent had dried onto his scalp, making his nose wrinkle every time the wind shifted.

"Great. Just great."

He glanced over at Maya, who was working efficiently, her hands moving with ease as she scraped another fish clean.

She was a pretty girl — no denying that.

Jet black hair with subtle purple streaks running through it, framing her sharp blue eyes that sat behind a pair of glasses.

She wasn't exactly delicate either; there were rough marks near her chin, probably from their time on the island, and a faint scar on her wrist that looked old.

Unlike most of them, Maya actually seemed prepared for this kind of life. She had adjusted to the situation way faster than anyone else, something Lucas found both impressive and concerning.

She was one of the few people excited about being stranded here.

Lucas couldn't fathom it. 'Who in their right mind would be happy about this?'

But then again, who was he to question a woman's mentality?

"Y'know," he started, scraping another stubborn patch of scales, "I don't think I've ever scaled this many fish in my life."

Maya smirked. "Probably because you never had to."

Lucas sighed. "Yeah, well, I also never wanted to."

She chuckled, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face before adjusting her glasses.

"Let me guess," he continued, tilting his head. "You have done this before?"

Maya nodded, glancing at him like it was obvious. "Of course. My grandma taught me when I was seven."

Lucas raised a brow. "Seven? That's kinda young to be messing with knives and dead fish."

Maya shrugged. "She thought it was important. Said knowing how to clean and prepare your own food was a survival skill. Guess she was right."

Lucas watched as she absentmindedly gestured toward herself, her fingers still slick with fish residue. A small smear landed on her shirt, just below her collarbone.

She either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Messy too," he noted with mild amusement.

"You ever live somewhere rural?" Maya asked, flicking scales off her hands.

Lucas shook his head. "Nah. City boy through and through."

Maya smirked. "Figures. You whine too much to have done this before."

Lucas scoffed. "I do not whine!"

Maya gave him a flat look.

"Ugh, fine, maybe a little," he admitted. "But can you blame me? This is not the life I signed up for."

Maya snorted. "None of us signed up for this, Lucas."

He groaned, scraping another fish. "Still! You like this. That's weird."

She grinned. "Not weird. Just practical."

Lucas shook his head.

'Practical, my ass,' he thought.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, focusing on their work.

Lucas didn't hate it as much now — though he still would have preferred literally anything else except the latrines of course — but at least Maya made it somewhat tolerable.

After a while, he decided to push the conversation further.

"So, your grandma taught you all this survival stuff?"

Maya nodded. "Yeah. She lived off the land most of her life. Knew how to fish, hunt, grow her own food. Said modern conveniences make people lazy."

Lucas huffed. "I mean… she wasn't wrong."

Maya smirked. "And yet, here you are, whining."

Lucas groaned, dropping his head. "I walked into that one."

Maya grinned. "You really did."

They kept working, the pile of cleaned fish growing larger.

Lucas had to admit — while it was tedious, there was something almost satisfying about seeing the results of their labor.

'Maybe I'm just going insane,' he thought.