"So...this was what you mean by a good plan?"

Zarius tugs at the neckline of the gray shirt with a grunt, obviously feeling very uncomfortable. He gives me the depressed look like a guy who is forced to go shopping and gets dressed against his will.

I'm unable to hide the smile on my face. All I want to do is to ruffle his hair, but he is too tall for me to reach his head. Short people issues.

The shirt that I found when I was digging through the RV earlier looks tiny on him. The fabric stretches across his abs—8 freaking pack?!—and almost on the verge of ripping itself. God, what a sight that would be if he wasn't wearing his Arsythae outfit underneath.

I smack my forehead. "Sorry! You needed a makeover, but this wasn't what I had in mind! Let me do it all over again."

My excited words don't reassure him at all, because his face grows paler. "A-again?"

I take a step towards him, grinning, but he shuffles backwards. His eyes look anywhere but at me. "Is it really necessary? This is very...uncomfortable," he admits with an indiscernible gulp. "And these–" He gestures to the matching gray pants that look super tight on him. "–I feel as if I'm being suffocated to death like the tentacles of a Kalamári being wrapped around me."

I chuckle lightly. "Trust me. I'll bring you something more comfortable to wear so that you can blend in with us humans and not freak them out. For now, you can take off the shirt first."

A reluctant sigh escapes his lips. But instead of taking it off gently, he hurriedly pulls it off and accidentally rips the shirt apart with a loud shressh, which only makes me choke on a laugh. The tatters of fabric flutter to the ground. Well, on a positive note, at least he still completed the assignment.

I make my way to one of the abandoned caravans on the same camping site and, coming from behind me, I hear Zarius's warning tone.

"Delia–"

The metal door screeches loudly when I push it aside, and the first thing that greets me is a horrible rotting stench. Far worse than rotten eggs. I immediately flinch away with disgust, covering my nose with an arm.

And that's when I see them—the dead bodies on the bed and floor. A family of three; a father, a mother and their toddler son. Their blood, now dried, has spilled all over the floor and wall.

How long have those bodies been there? I don't know. But judging from the strong decaying smell, it must have been a few days at least. Whichever creature that did this is nowhere in sight, probably gone deeper into town.

Wrenching myself away from the grisly sight, I stumble out of the caravan and almost hit the grass on my weak knees if Zarius hadn't caught me. I press a hand over my mouth, trying to suppress the urge to puke the breakfast I had earlier. No matter how far I get away, I can't get rid of the gory image in my head. A flash of red fills my vision; images of bodies on the streets and in the museum from before.

I realize that the past day that I've spent with Zarius has made me blissfully forget our reality.

Every dead person is somebody's son, daughter, spouse, or friend. Who is going to grieve for them and tend to their corpses?

Zarius's hands clutch my shoulders to hold me upright. His presence comforts me, dispelling my terror and evens out my breathing. "Sorry, I should have warned you earlier."

I rasp out a quick mumble. "I'm fine. They just caught me off guard."

Right. This isn't the time for me to be weak. I've a mission to accomplish, so I need to remain strong. I can't be puking over every dead body I find.

Find the living.

Clearing my throat, I push aside the negative thoughts. The world is falling apart, but if I let this heavily affect me, I would foresee myself breaking apart as well. And I don't want that to happen.

We skip the caravan and hop over to the next one. To my greatest relief, we find no bodies inside. I rummage through the storage compartments and found a stash of male clothes. I pick out the largest trousers that I can find, including a white shirt and a black jacket, and hand them over to him.

I tap on Zarius's arm. "Try these on."

He picks at the clothes with a grimace. After putting on the shirt, he slips his arms through the jacket sleeves and fiddles with the zipper, wearing a helpless expression. Confusion crosses features; he doesn't understand the mechanics of a zipper.

Leaning against the wall, I suppress a snicker. "Need some help there?"

Some of the tension in his shoulders ease and he shoots me a pleading look. "Please."

I shift closer to him, my head barely reaches his chin. I risk a quick glance to find him staring right back at me, noticing the way his dark, long lashes have lowered until they brush his skin. Golden flecks in his eyes swirl, making them shine brighter and dangerously enticing.

My hands reach for his jacket, pulling his zipper up. Achingly slow. Knowing that his gaze is on me and threatening to burn through me. He smells like the ocean, not how it smells right now with all the pollutants, but how the oceans should have smelled like. Crisp, warm and refreshing. Like the sun has kissed his skin.

I feel his fingers graze the ends of my tangled hair. It's not exactly in the nicest state, considering how I haven't combed through them for days. But I remain still, because my heart is hammering away wildly like a motorbike revving up its engine. When his fingers brush across my throat and he cups the back of my neck, a breath catches in my throat.

Excited tingles erupt across my skin. I'm coming this dangerously close to doing the unthinkable.

Does he feel the same way as I do?

Zarius's voice comes out in a feathery whisper, breaking my trance. "What are you thinking about, halfling?"

Imagining us kissing. "N-nothing."

The tip of his mouth quirks, as if he can read my mind. "It does not look that way to me."

Heat crawls up to my cheeks. Clearing my throat, I move away and scour the kitchen counter. There's only one last thing left to finish his look. Once I find what I need, I hold up a pair of scissors to show Zarius and snip at the air twice.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?"

***

I take a step back to assess my handiwork. This time, the result is absolutely pleasing. A very tall and dashing human boy stares back at me. High cheekbones. Sharp nose. Well-defined jawline. Dressed in casual clothes like he's about to hit a gym.

Except that he isn't exactly human.

At first, Zarius didn't seem to trust me and the scissors in my hand, which he calls 'a crab's pincer'. He was pretty skeptical about my skills, but I convinced him with my years of experience in cutting hair. When I meant by my 'experience', I was referring to the times when I snipped at my fringe because it grew too long and began poking at my eyeballs. In fact, I've given nobody a proper haircut before in my life.

But yeah, he doesn't need to know that.

I know I'm being ambitious, but the result has turned out to be better than we expected. Because Zarius had looked terrified of losing his braid, I cut in such a way that his hair is long enough for me to tie a half-up ponytail. I sweep his fringe back, allowing some strands to escape and frame his face.

Damn, he actually looks like a model from a fashion magazine.

"Ta-da!" I bring him towards the mirror in the caravan's tiny bathroom. "What do you think?"

He frowns at himself. "Is this really necessary?"

"Of course!" I exclaim. "It's uncommon for male humans to have such long hair like yours earlier. This would definitely draw less attention to yourself. Besides, you look handsome!"

"Handsome?"

My compliment perks him up, but he still looks somewhat unconvinced. We gather whatever food and water supplies we can find from all the camper vans and bring them over to a RV that still has leftover fuel and can move.

Before we set off, I need to practice driving first. I don't have a license, so I'm feeling nervous.

I force Zarius to stay outside the RV while I try to figure things out. I find the vehicle keys in the compartment, so I insert it into the ignition to start the engine. There are a couple of buttons on the dashboard and I randomly press them to test them out. When I push my foot on the pedal, the vehicle lurches forward and startles me so badly that I slam down on the braking pedal.

Outside, Zarius is looking extremely worried, but I give him a thumbs-up sign. My stomach is a bundle of nerves.

"Okay... Deep breaths, Delia. You can do this."

I clutch the steering wheel tightly and press my foot down an inch on the pedal. The RV moves forward and pulls out of the clearing as I try to steer it back onto the road. However, it doesn't go in the direction that I want and I drive straight into a tree.

"OH CRAP–"

Something hits the van with a loud bang. The vehicle jerks to an abrupt stop and the front bumper gets lifted off the ground. I scream out loud, wondering if I've totalled the vehicle, but when I realize I didn't hit the tree, relief floods into me.

From the hood of the RV, a set of blue eyes narrow in on me. Zarius doesn't seem impressed by my driving skills.

"My trust in you, Delia," he says, "has gone down to a minuscule zero."

I pout playfully. "Aw, come one! Couldn't you have given me a trust rating of at least two? At least I got the vehicle moving!"

He shakes his head at me in disbelief. "You're unbelievable," he sighs. "What if I wasn't around?"

"But you are here with me, aren't you?"

Grinning like the reckless girl I am, I watch as he places the vehicle back onto the ground. I poke my head out of the window with a rueful smile and rap once on the vehicle's door.

"Hop right in, hottie. What do you say we go for a drive?"