Chapter Text
She woke with the taste of salt on her tongue. Not from the sea. From sweat. Skin. Him. The air inside the tent was stifling-humid and too still, like it knew something shameful had happened inside it and didn’t want to move. Her body ached in too many places. Her thighs were bruised. Her mouth felt used. And Vaas’s arm was still slung across her waist like a deadbolt.
She moved slowly, carefully sliding out from under him. He didn’t wake. She pulled on her shorts with shaking fingers, grabbed her shirt and camera, and stepped into the early morning haze.
The jungle was alive again. Birdcalls. Insects. Leaves brushing against each other like whispers. She kept walking, farther than she was supposed to, boots sinking into damp soil until she reached a small rise just above the riverbank. There, she sat with her knees to her chest, camera hanging limp around her neck.
She scrolled through old photos like a ritual. Ones of feathers. Trees. A nest, once. Her hands still trembled. It was stupid. It had to be.
It was just an act, she told herself. Survival. A game. Keep him calm. Keep yourself alive.
A twig snapped behind her. She turned too fast, heart in her throat. But it was him.
Vaas stood a few feet away, shirtless, arms crossed, watching her like she was a puzzle he already knew the answer to. “You always run away after?” he asked, voice quiet. Not mocking. Just… curious.
“I needed air.”
He came closer, but didn’t sit. “You needed space, you mean.”
She looked back toward the trees. “Don’t read into it.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “You do that all on your own.”
She laughed once- sharp and humorless. “You think you know me now?”
Vaas crouched beside her. “I see you.”
“No.” She shook her head, voice rising. “What happened last night, that wasn’t-” She stopped herself. “I was just doing what I had to. It didn’t mean anything.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he spoke. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
She stared at him. “It’s true.” It has to be true. The alternative is something that she doesn't want to even think about.
Vaas leaned closer, and when he spoke, it was almost gentle. “You think I broke you. But you were already cracked when you got here. Maybe I just peeled it back,” He added, “Showed you what was under all that wild girl ambition. All that hopeful little heart shit.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You want to believe it was an act. But I think you liked how it felt when someone finally saw you.”
She stood abruptly. “You’re wrong.”
“No,” He said, still crouched. Still too calm. That one word spoke with so much conviction it stung.
She walked away. Didn’t run. Didn’t cry. Just moved like the ground beneath her couldn’t be trusted anymore.
Behind her, Vaas lit a cigarette and watched the cracks widen.
She didn’t stop walking.
Branches whipped at her arms as she pushed through the underbrush, moving faster, breathing harder. She could still hear his voice, low and quiet, like a splinter in her skull:
“You think I broke you. But you were already cracked when you got here.”
She hated how much it stuck. How much it felt true.
The sun was just starting to burn off the morning mist as she reached the ridge. It was the same one from the day before-the one where they’d found the feathers. But this time, she was alone. No Vaas. No teasing voice behind her. No camera-invading hands.
Just me, she told herself. This time, it’s just me.
She climbed higher, stopping at a tree that overlooked a cluster of dense branches below. A good nesting site. She crouched, lifted the camera, and waited.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. The jungle buzzed with life, but none of it was what she needed. Her legs started to cramp. Sweat dripped from her brow into her eyes. Still, she waited. Something would come. It had to.
Then there it was- movement.
A flash of blue.
Her breath caught. Her fingers flew to the shutter. There, perched on a branch below: a bird. Small, bright, twitchy. One of the species she’d come to the island chasing. Her hands shook violently as she raised the camera.
Click.
Nothing.
Click-click.
Still nothing.
The lens was smeared. Mud. She must’ve touched it after she left the tent.
“No,” She breathed, wiping it quickly with the hem of her shirt. “No, no, come on-”
She looked up.
The bird was gone.
A rush of silence fell over the trees, thick and mocking. Her chest heaved. She tried to stay still, tried to hold it together. But then the camera slipped from her hands and hit the dirt with a dull thud.
She stared at it.
And then she screamed.
It tore out of her-raw and guttural. She grabbed the camera and hurled it against a rock. It cracked with a sickening crunch, pieces scattering like broken bones. She dropped to her knees, hands in her hair, shaking.
It was supposed to matter. It was supposed to mean something.
The sob slipped out before she could stop it. Another followed.
Then she was just crying. Loud, ugly, unstoppable. Alone in the jungle. No birds. No proof. No version of herself that felt clean anymore.
But she wasn’t alone. She felt him before she heard him. Vaas’s voice came like a breeze that turned to poison. “Told you,” he said. “You don’t need a bird. You need a mirror.”
Her head snapped up. He stood leaning against a tree, arms crossed, hair damp from sweat or dew- watching her like she was the main act in a show only he understood.
“You followed me?” She demanded, voice hoarse.
He raised an eyebrow. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“You let me think I was alone-”
“You were,” He said, stepping forward. “Until you started breaking things.”
She backed up on her knees, fists clenched. “You’re sick.”
Vaas crouched in front of her, hand reaching out to touch the broken camera. “You really thought this would fix you?” He asked. “That getting a picture of some endangered flutter-rat would make all this worth it?”
“I came here to find them,” She snapped.
“Nah.” He met her eyes. “You came here to find you. The girl who gave a shit. The one who thought chasing birds made her brave.”
She flinched and he smiled, but it wasn’t cruel this time. Just... honest.
“You’re not crazy, hermosa,” He said. “You’re just finally seeing things clearly.”
She didn’t respond. Didn’t move. She wasn’t sure if he was wrong.