“ Where are we going?” Barry asked, panting.

“Just walk,” Freya replied, without bothering to look behind at Barry, who seemed like he could collapse any moment.

“You’ve been saying that for last three fucking hours!” He kicks a branch that goes flying before in the air and drops dead on the ground before hitting Freya on her ankle.

Freya stops dead in her track and turns around, clearly mad, “Why?” She asked, looking straight into Barry’s eyes,

“I didn’t mean to hit you.” He replied, stifling his laughs.

“You think you’re funny, right?” She smiled sarcastically, “you know what will be funny? When I leave your ass here all alone for you to be eaten by an animal or starve yourself to death. Now that,” She folds her hand on her stomach, “will be really funny, wouldn’t it be?”

Barry’s eyes widen. Not because she threatened him to leave but because he heard her say more than six words in one sentence and in ‘one breath.’

“You’re British?”

“What?” Freya looks at him like he’s lost his mind,

“Your accent! You have a thick British accent.”

Freya laughs in disbelief, “Wow, you’ve got your priorities straight.”

“Well, yeah. This is the first time I’ve heard you say more than two words in one sentence.” He counters back.

“First time? How long have we been friends?” She asks, sarcastically looking at him.

“We’re friends?” He smirks, earning an eye roll from Freya.

“Go to hell!” Freya replies before turning her back at Barry and walking in the opposite direction from his way.

Barry smiles to himself. He finally found a company, and he was making sure he enjoys every bit of it.

He loved how every little thing he did, annoyed Freya. Even though it had been only a few hours since they met, he managed to irritate her quite a few times.

“Can you at least tell me where we are going?” Barry asks again.

This time, Freya takes a deep breath and turns out to say something sarcastic again, but this time, she could actually see him panting and out of breath. He was bent over with his hands on his knees as he looked at her. The sun rays fell directly on him and turned his face in a beautiful color of orange and yellow.

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“Well?” He asked again, waiting for Freya to answer.

Snapping out of her zone, she took a sharp breath and turned around, “Home.”

When Freya said home, Barry thought about a treehouse or maybe a house build of branches and a piece of cloth covering it. What he wasn’t imagining was right in front of him now. His jaw dropped, looking at Freya’s ‘home.’ The house stood right by the river. It was made up of bricks, branches, glass, and stones. It was a two-story house, and the door was made up of a strong and thick piece of wood separating the outside world and inside vibe of the place. All the windows had glass which was securely tied with strong leaves. It wasn’t painted, of course, or ‘furnished’ as you’d say. Nonetheless, it looked beautiful.

“This is the most normal thing I’ve seen in this Island so far,” Barry whispered but loud enough for Freya to hear and shoot him a look. “I mean, the most normal thing after you, of course.” He quickly added, earning another eye roll from Freya.

She starts to go inside the house before she hears Barry say, “The ground is vibrating.”

“Waterfall is near.” She simply replies, without bothering to look back at him.

He nods and steps inside the house following Freya.

. . . . . .

The house wasn’t warm as they normally are, but nothing on this Island is normal. Barry shudders and rubs his shoulders as he looks around. The first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t a two-story house; in fact, it had high ceilings. It was spacious because there wasn’t much furniture or probably because of the high ceilings. It looked like someone collected a bunch of stuff and placed it inside the house, trying to make it as much as a home they can. On the right was what you could call a kitchen. Barry could see a few spoons carved out of wood and simple wood pieces which might be used as plates. On the right was simply a bed made out of leaves. It did look extremely comfortable, and it had a pillow, too. Without any further inspection, he took off his shoes and landed on the bed.

Barry groaned out of relaxation, making Freya’s eyes go wide.

“What is wrong with you?” She says, almost as if she’s disgusted by him.

“I’m so tired, and this pillow is so soft,” Barry says, hugging the pillow.

“I made it,” she replies.

He could sense she was proud, so he decided to keep the conversation on the right track, “Really? How?”

Freya’s eye lit up, “Well, I – I went out one day to hunt for food, and I saw a bird. Big bird,” Her eyes widen, and she showed how big the bird was with her hands. “I knew the feathers would be good. So I killed it and took the feathers. Cooked the bird and ate.” She smiled.

Terrified but still willing to keep the conversation going, Barry added, “Wow, so this is actual features, huh?”

Freya nodded, “Yes.”

As Freya turned around, Barry laid straight on his back, his eyes facing the ceiling. He couldn’t help but notice a picture pasted on the top. He sat and twitched his eyes to get a better look. He almost gasped out loud when he realized it was Freya in the picture.

In the picture, Freya had blond hair and fringes that fell on her forehead. Barry turned his head towards the kitchen where she stood at the moment. Her black hair ended right below her neck. She looked so different. Hadn’t it been for her icy blue eyes, he wouldn’t ever have recognized her. His gaze found the picture again, and he started to notice her freckles which were quite visible. The pink tint on Freya’s cheeks made her look flushed and adorable—almost as if she’s blushing. She looked like any other girl Barry would see at his college. Her silver nose ring shone. Her left dimple was showed as she smiled in the picture. He couldn’t help but smile while looking at her smiling.

Before he could say anything, he saw a hand on Freya’s shoulder. It looked like a women’s hand with a ring on the engagement finger and a pink nail print.

Curiosity gets the best of him as he turns around to face Freya, who stood in the kitchen doing something, “Who’s this?”

Freya turns around, and her lips part to reply, but no sound comes. Barry almost caught her looking sad before she quickly put her guard back up. “I don’t think that’s any of your business. Is it?”

He smiles. Freya’s English and sentence structure would get better as soon as she would start scolding Barry.

“True, but guess we’ll be stuck with each other for a while, so why not get to know each other?” Barry replies and lays down straight again.

“Talk less.” She says and steps out of the house with an empty bowl of wood in her hands.

“Can’t promise!” He shouts from behind her.

His gaze falls on the picture again. ‘Maybe the hand belonged to someone who got stuck here with Freya.’ He thought to himself, ‘but is Freya really stuck?’

Based on the house, her exceptional skills, and knowledge about the Island, she doesn’t look stuck. If anything, she looked like a part of the Island.

Wild, furious, and ready to kill.

But in the picture, she looked completely different.

Freya looked beautiful. She looked…normal.