𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

22. murdering murderers. (pt.1.)

I stop walking, looking at him with abject horror. "I know what the main guy looks like, and I'm genuinely horrified. Fucking Walter White? Bald and with an awful beard? I'd rather become a nun– actually, that's strong." I shake my head, glaring at JJ who looks annoyingly amused. "No, I change my mind, I stand by that, I'm Googling 'convents near me'. No. Just no."

"Every old man on Grey's Anatomy is always the hottest man you've ever seen," he brings up a slightly valid point.

"Let's get back onto the zombies, I'm sick of this, you're so mean to me–"

"I am not," he grins.

"I would still hate an apocalypse," I start walking again, catching up with JJ in a few strides.

"But I'd keep you safe," he seems to be acting like there's a scheduled apocalypse. Something tells me he's thought about this way too much, he probably knows exactly where he'd set up camp.

"Nope," I shake my head. "Still gonna shoot myself. Plus, imagine if men don't have enforced laws anymore. They barely treat women as people with them."

The house finally comes into view and we both hop over the short gate to stop the squeaking of the rusted hinges. "I'd kill them all, trust me, you'd have so much fun," he assures me.

I slip the key into the lock and shake it around a little until it swings open.

I'm not greeted with the smell of dust and old people, instead, it smells fresh and like my mother's favourite candle. An extreme upgrade.

I feel JJ standing right behind me, being nosey and looking in before he even gets inside, I walk in first, pulling off my shoes and picking them up.

"If you think this is dirty–" He falls over whilst trying to get his shoe off. I don't offer a hand, he's fine. "Then you must be disgusted at the state of my house," he mumbles quietly like he didn't just shake the house to its core.

I tip my head to the stairs and I wait a second for him to get up, before walking over to and up the stairs that creek up our weight. It's weird, the fact that this is where I live now, I've exchanged the modern sleek design for something a little more classical. But I'll count my blessings as this is definitely one of the nicer houses in The Cut. Its garden is neat, its paint isn't peeling off and – as far as I know – there aren't any massive concaved holes in the roof.

JJ shuts the door carefully as he examines the room. "You've got an in-suit?" He grins while walking toward the en suite.

"En suite."

"Can't help yourself, can you?" He shakes his head with a wide grin as he puts his shoes in the corner next to my door, beside my own.

I grab a slouchy shirt from my wardrobe and walk passed him, "If I'm going to spend extended periods of time with you going forth, then you need to learn simple shit."

"What can I correct you on? Because we need to even the playing field, Mabel," I walk out of the bathroom with my toothbrush in my mouth, having already changed into my pyjamas.

I pretend to think about it, scrunching my eyebrows together and tipping my head to the side a few degrees. When I turn to spit out the toothpaste I decide on my answer.

"Boats."

"Boats?"

"You know, the things that float on the water that take you from–" I explain sarcastically.

"I know what a boat is, I'm just confused as to how that's the gap you think of," he shakes his head as he pulls off his shirt.

"And knowing where I'm going, but be nice with that, I'm sensitive about that. I did have an Amber Alert sent out because I got pee shy and wandered too far," I remind him. Pulling back the sheets I notice my Mum took down the half a dozen crosses that hung above the bed – an appreciated change. I can't imagine doing anything in a bed whilst staring at crosses. Which, thinking about it, was probably what my Grandma was going for.