Adeline & Liam

I blame his meliorism.

Wrists bound, we sat cross-legged in a dank warehouse. Five men circled like vultures, clinging modified machine guns with bayonets and strings of rounds. Their haphazard clothing gave them away as a rebellious sect with little to no leadership. Insulation and wallpaper hung from the ceiling in tattered drapes, garbage cluttering the floor and the scent of urine emanating from every corner. Flies buzzed, indiscriminately landing and nibbling on any bare skin.

I blew one off my shoulder, turning to glare at Liam. “Happy now, your highness?”