Day 7 - Aftermath (continued)

Steam fills the bathroom as I adjust the water temperature. The mirrors fog almost immediately. Juliette steps in behind me, her small frame fitting perfectly under my arm as the hot water cascades over both of us. She presses her back against my chest, tilting her head to expose her neck to my lips. Her skin is warm from exertion, smelling faintly of vanilla body wash and sex. Water beads on her shoulders as she looks up at me with half-lidded eyes.

"You know," she murmurs as my lips brush against her neck, "I never thought I would be doing this."

Her fingers trace up my arm, following the tendons and veins.

"Why are you so affectionate towards me, Julie?" I ask. "I tortured and killed your friends, made you kill them too. Is this Stockholm syndrome or something else?"

Juliette's fingers pause on my arm for a beat before she turns in my embrace, pressing her body against mine. The hot water beats down on both of us as she meets my gaze, her expression suddenly vulnerable beneath the playful smirk. She reaches up to brush water droplets from my cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the circumstances.

"Is not just about surviving," she says quietly, her words nearly lost beneath the rushing water. "I hate what you have done. What we have done."

Her small hands press against my chest, fingers curling slightly into my wet skin.

"But you..." She hesitates, biting her lower lip. "You were kind when no one else would be."

My hands come up to grip her shoulders, feeling her slight frame beneath the water. The steam swirls around us both, the hot spray turning my skin pink. I search her face for any deception, but find only honesty in her expression.

"I don't deserve your kindness," I say roughly.

The words sound foreign even to my own ears.

Juliette shakes her head, water droplets flying from her hair.

"You don't have to be kind to me." She moves closer until her bare breasts press against my chest, her chin lifting to maintain eye contact. "But you are. Even when you could have been cruel, you held me after..."

She swallows hard, the memory still fresh in her mind.

"When Harper died, you comforted me. When I cried in the shower, you held me. When I was too weak to stand, you carried me."

She presses her forehead against my collarbone, her hands sliding around my waist to clutch at my back.

"You made me kill my friends, yes. But you also... you also made me feel like a person still, instead of just a number about to die."

Her words crack as she continues.

"And when I am with you like this, I forget. Just for a moment. I forget the dungeon and the machines and that I should hate you."

I hug her and hold her tight. Tears start to cloud my eyes. I can allow them here, where the water from the shower will instantly wash them away.

Juliette's arms tighten around my waist as she feels my body tense, the slight tremors starting at my shoulders and working their way down. She presses her face against my chest, water streaming down both of us as we hold each other in the steaming shower. Her fingers dig into my back as she clings to me, my breathing falters.

"Shh," she murmurs against my skin, the sound almost lost in the rush of water. "It's okay. Just let it out." Her thumbs stroke circles on my damp back, soothing as she speaks. "No one else can see. It's just us here."

But I know what will happen to her tomorrow. Because there won't be a happy ending, Juliette will not come out of here alive. And I cannot tell her that. I desperately think of a thousand ways to save her, none of them viable.

My arms constrict around Juliette's small frame as she nuzzles against my chest, her breath warm through the water cascading between us. The realization that tomorrow will be her last day claws at my throat, making it hard to breathe. I've seen the look in her eyes – hopeful, even if she tries to hide it. She thinks this could be something. Something real. It makes my stomach churn.

Juliette lifts her face from my chest, her wet lashes spiky and dark against her face. She sees the struggle in my eyes.

"John?"

Her hands come up to frame my face, forcing me to look at her. Her thumbs brush away the water dripping from my hairline, her touch feather-light. She examines my face with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

"You're shaking," she murmurs, concern softening her words.

Her fingers move to cup my face properly, holding me still as she studies my eyes. She notices every microexpression, every fleeting thought crossing my features.

Juliette bites her lower lip, her blue eyes searching mine.

"Tell me what's wrong," she says softly.

"It's... nothing.” I mutter. “I just think that I don't deserve you. I don't deserve even a shadow of all the girls that I killed in here."

Juliette's fingers trace the sharp angle of my jaw as her expression darkens.

"Don't say that," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "You helped me when no one else would. You held my hand when I wanted to scream."

Her thumbs brush over my cheekbones, her touch becoming more insistent as she pulls me closer. The water cascades down both of us, but her eyes remain locked on mine.

"Harper allowed you to be her last comfort because she trusted you. Because she saw something in you that I see now."

Her voice wavers, but her grip on my face doesn't loosen.

"You have been kind to me when you had absolutely no obligation to."

"And now I wish I wasn't." My voice is hoarse as I push words out of me. "Because it only makes things worse."

Juliette's hands slide from my face to my shoulders, her fingers digging in slightly as if she's afraid I might pull away.

"Worse how?" she asks, speaking so quietly it nearly disappears beneath the running water.

Her blue eyes search mine, looking for an answer she already fears she won't like.

A war of emotions plays inside me – fear, guilt, and something else I don’t have a name for. Juliette watches me, her expression more and more worried. She steps closer until her body touches mine.

"Tell me," she urges, her voice softer than the patter of water hitting the tile. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. Better than not knowing."

Her hands slide up to cup my neck, her thumbs brushing the pulse point there.

The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy.

"After the award ceremony tomorrow…” I pause and clear my throat, barely able to speak. “You will not go free."

Juliette's breath hitches audibly. Her fingers tighten almost painfully around my neck, her entire body tensing like a bowstring.

"What do you mean?" she asks, voice breaking.

The water streams down her face, but she doesn't blink it away. But she already understands. Her pupils dilate, her lips part slightly, and her grip on me becomes almost desperate.

"No. No, you lie."

But even as she says it, the doubt creeps in as she tries to make sense of what I’m telling her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly now, her small breasts pressing against my torso.

"I'm supposed to tell you that you survived, make you feel safe…” My voice gets bitter, trembling. “Make you believe that the horrors are over."

Juliette's face contorts with raw anguish. Her hands slide from my neck to clutch at my wrists, her fingers tighten as she struggles to process what I’m saying.

"So everything... the survival, the shower, the normal house... it was all just another part of the show, yes?"

The water continues to pour down, but she seems oblivious to it now. Her voice becomes quiet, deadly calm.

"You made me believe I am safe. You made me..." She stops, shaking her head as if physically trying to dislodge the thought. "You played me from the beginning."

I shake my head.

"I was supposed to play you. But I can't lie to you anymore. I don't want you to feel betrayed tomorrow."

Juliette's fingers release my wrists abruptly, her hands falling to her sides as she steps back from me. The distance between us feels vast now, filled with everything unsaid.

"You knew," she says, her voice flat and hollow. "You knew all the time that I would not make it out alive. And you..."

Her gaze drops to the floor, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"I thought... I thought you cared about me. About us." Her head snaps up suddenly, her eyes blazing with fury. "Did you sleep with me just to get better performance? To make my death more... attractive for the viewers?"

"There are no cameras in this apartment, so no - I slept with you because you asked me to.” I sound defensive and I hate that I do. "And I do care. My kindness, my attempts to soothe every one of you was genuine. But the path to hell is paved with good intentions."

Juliette's face crumples at my admission, tears mixing with the streaming water. She presses her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The sound tears at something deep in my chest. She's right – I did care, and now she's standing here, broken and terrified, because of it.

When she finally lowers her hands, her expression is unreadable.

"I understand now," she says, voice thick with tears and something else – something darker. "You wanted me to trust you. To need you."

"And now you understand why I wished I wasn't kind." I sigh. “It only makes things worse."

Juliette lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, her small hands wiping angrily at her wet face.

"Is too late for that, no?" She speaks with a dangerous edge now, her words roughened by tears. "You cannot take the kindness back. I cannot forget how you held me after Harper died. How you..." She cuts herself off, swallowing hard.

"I can't. And because of that, I became too attached to those I need to kill. To those I cannot save. To you…" I feel tension building my in my throat again.

Juliette's breath catches audibly at my words. She steps closer, her chest heaving. The water still pours down between us, droplets clinging to her eyelashes, to her parted lips.

"To me," she repeats softly, her fingers brushing against my hand before curling into my palm.

"You knew. You knew from the start that we would never leave here alive."

Her fingers tighten around mine, not in fear this time, but in something else – something raw and desperate.

"And yet you slept with me. You held me. You made me feel..." She doesn't finish the thought, but her eyes say it all.

"I thought of every possible way to save you. All of them would only delay the inevitable." Pain in my voice is now clearly audible. "I have never felt so helpless in my life before."

Juliette's grip on my hand trembles. She looks down at my intertwined fingers, then up to meet my eyes.

"And now?" she asks quietly. "Now that you have admitted you cannot save me... do you wish you had never bothered trying?"

The question hangs between us, weighted with everything unsaid. The water continues to fall around us, forming little eddies where it meets the floor. Juliette's thumb traces slow circles against my palm, a gesture so tender it feels like a betrayal of the inevitable.

I shake my head, the words catching in my throat.

"No," I finally say, my free hand coming up to brush a stray lock of wet hair from her forehead. "Even knowing it would end like this... I wouldn't change it."

Juliette's lips part slightly at my words, her pupils dilating even more in the steam-filled space. She moves closer, close enough that her damp hair brushes against your chest.

"Why?" she whispers. "Why would you do this? Why care at all?"

I don't have an answer that satisfies either of us.

"I don't know," I admit, my fingers curling around her wrist. "Maybe I wanted to be kind to someone before-"

"Before you kill them," she finishes for me, not with bitterness but with something like wonder.

She presses her wet body against mine, her cheek coming to rest against my collarbone. Her arms slide around my waist, holding me tight.

"I don't hate you for it," she murmurs. "That is the worst part."

Her fingers dig into my back almost painfully. I wrap my arms around her in return, resting my chin on the top of her head. She smells of shampoo, her skin warm and alive beneath my palms. The steam rises around us both, making the room feel intimate and separate from the world.

"What would you do if you were in my place?" I murmur. "Forced to kill innocent people?"

Juliette goes very still in my arms. The water still pours around us both, but in this moment, it's almost like the shower has frozen in time. She tilts her head back to look up at me, her expression impossible to read.

"I don't know," she admits finally, her words faint against the steady hiss of water. "I never had to choose." Her hands slide up to rest on my chest, fingers splaying across my damp skin. "But I do know... if I was forced to kill innocent people..." She pauses, swallowing hard. "I would want to make sure they were not alone when it happened."

I catch my breath. Juliette's fingers press harder against my chest, her gaze holding mine with an intensity that feels like a physical thing.

"That's the only thing that matters right now," she continues, her voice thick. "That I am not alone. That I... that I am with someone who cares enough to try make this bearable."

Her hands slide up to cup my face, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones.

"And I know you do care. Even if it changes nothing."

She brushes her lips against mine in a kiss that tastes like saltwater and desperation.

"I hate that I will have to lose you." I murmur into her hair. "I hate that next year there will be a Season Three and all of this will happen again."

Juliette pulls back slightly, her hands still framing my face. Her eyes search mine, wide and understanding.

"Then stop it," she says simply, her voice firm despite the tremor beneath the words. "Do not host Season Three. Walk away."

I shake my head immediately, the motion making droplets of water scatter around me.

"You don't understand," I say, my voice rough. "They have my family... my parents, my brother, my sister..."

The words die in my throat.

Juliette's hands tighten on my face, her thumbs brushing away tears before they can fall. She moves closer, pressing her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the steam-filled space.

"I understand more than you think," she murmurs. "I am losing everything too."

I close my eyes, her presence anchoring me in the storm of my emotions. Her fingers trace my jawline, then slide back into my hair, tugging gently. I open my eyes to find hers only inches away, blue and steady despite the tears clinging to her lashes.

"I'm scared," she confesses, her words quiet. "I'm terrified of what is coming."

"Even I am terrified of that." I breathe out a bitter laugh. "And I'm not scheduled to die tomorrow."

Juliette's grip on me tightens, her fingers digging into my shoulders. A shudder runs through her entire body, and for a moment, she seems unable to speak. When she does, her voice comes out raw and broken.

"That makes it worse somehow," she whispers, her breath hot against my skin. "That you are scared too. That this thing... this monster I thought you were..."

Her words trail off as she pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine with an almost painful intensity.

"I can see it now. The real you. The one who is trapped just like us."

Her hands slide down to my chest, pressing against my heart as if trying to feel its rhythm.

"And that…" Juliette falters. "That makes it so much more hard to hate you." She shakes her head slightly, water droplets falling from her ponytail. "It makes it impossible."

Her fingers curl against my chest, nails pressing lightly at my skin. The heat of her touch burns even through the water, through the steam. The pulse flutters at her throat, her breathing uneven as she leans into me, pressing her body against mine in the shower's cascade.

"They will kill me tomorrow," she says, her words so soft they nearly disappear beneath the rushing water. "And you will be the one to... to..."

"I will be the one to watch it and pretend I like it..."

Juliette's expression shifts, her lips parting slightly as understanding dawns in her eyes.

"Pretend," she repeats softly, the word tasting bitter.

She shifts closer, her bare skin sliding against mine beneath the water's flow.

"You pretend to enjoy it because that is what they want to see."

Her hands move up to frame my face again, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with a tenderness that feels almost like a wound.

"You pretend," she continues, her voice gaining strength, "because if you show even a fraction of what you are really feeling, they will hurt you too, yes?" Her eyes search mine, dark and penetrating.

"Worse." I pause and look into her eyes. "They will hurt someone I love. Like they hurt Isla when I confessed to you that I didn’t enjoy killing you."

Juliette's hands drop from my face as if burned, her breath catching audibly. The shower's steam curls around her face, highlighting the wet trails left by her tears.

"Isla," she whispers, the name breaking on her lips. "That is why the piranhas were in the water tank when she was supposed to simply drown..." She shakes her head, water droplets flying. "I thought it was because of the show. But it was a punishment for you."

Juliette's hands fist against my chest, her nails leaving tiny crescent moons in my skin. Her breathing comes faster now, eyes burning with fresh rage – not at me, but at the producers who have created this system of cruelty upon cruelty. She speaks more steadily than expected, her words carrying an edge of something dangerous.

"I never knew they could do that to Isla," she says, her words hushed yet venomous. "To make her death worse as a lesson for you."

Juliette's gaze holds mine, fierce and unyielding even as fresh tears well up. "All this time I thought... I thought they just liked hurting us. But this is more calculated. This is... personal."

Her fingers press harder into my chest, her whole body shaking – not just with fear, but with rage.

"They use you like they use us," she continues, her words gaining strength. "Only they managed to turn you into something you are not."

She lifts her chin, studying my face with fierce intensity. My breath catches at Juliette's words. She sees it now – really sees it. Not just the mask I wear for the cameras, but the real me behind it. The way her fingers press into my chest isn't meant to hurt, but to anchor herself to the truth she's discovered.

"You're right," I admit hoarsely. The water sluices down my face, mixing with tears I didn't realize I'd shed. "They use everyone. Every weakness. Even if you don't know about it yourself."

I take a deep breath before continuing.

"They noticed I cared too much about the girls I had to kill and they weaponized it against me. They wanted me to be kind to you today only to have to betray you tomorrow."

Juliette's hands slide up to grip my shoulders, her fingers digging in with desperate strength.

"Fuck them," she breathes, her body pressing flush against mine under the water's cascade.

The word emerges raw and fierce, like something torn from her very core. Her chest heaves against mine, her heart hammering where it presses into my ribs. Her gaze burns into mine, blue irises bright with something fierce and wild.

"They are the monsters," she says, her words quavering with intensity. "Not you."