The first time Mara had eaten someone, she’d sworn it’d never happen again. That night, hunger wracked her body, as if an animal had burrowed itself in her stomach and ate away at her insides.

Then, Cassian had purposed an idea.

At the time she’d recoiled at the thought- another _human? _How could Cass even think of that? But as her hunger dulled and the beast in her belly subsided, a new fear had emerged beneath her.

Cassian had saved her.

But at the cost of another’s life.

It’d been six months since the first time, and now the thought no longer made her stomach churn. It didn’t claw at her mind with guilt the way it used to. It didn’t leave her shivering in the aftermath, trying to convince herself she was still human.

It was easier.

Mara wiped the blood from the knife resting lazily in her hands, her movement quick and precise. It’d become second nature to her, the doing, the aftermath, the clean up. Across from her Cassian sat quietly, as if her were afraid the meat was still alive.

She watched him for a moment, the way his hand clenched as his eyes lingered on his share of food. “Not hungry tonight?” Mare kept her voice light.

Cass lifted his head, a gentle smile playing at his lips. “I’m affraid not.”

Mara didn’t press, Cassian hadn’t been hungry for quite some time.

Perhaps he was sick.

Deep down Mara knew better.

His fingers curl subtly into his palm and his eyes didn’t meet hers. His black hair flopped over his eyes, but through the dark strands and thick shadows, Mara could see the deepening bags beneath his eyes. He was getting skinnier, too, she noted.

Mara let the silence between them stretch, the low buzz of the dying generator filling between them. Cass had never been the talkative one, not after the war. But still, his usual quietness used to be something comforting to Mara, something she could settle into and rely on, but this was different.

She wiped her blade clean and set it beside her. She still didn’t push, not yet. “You’ll eat when you’re hungry enough.”

“Perhaps,” Cass huffed a laugh as he stood, “but not tonight- I’m tired.”

Mara could hear the lie in his voice, she could sense the shift between them. Nonetheless, she said nothing; she didn’t want to be a bother. The silence seemed to tighten, Cass’ body was tense as he pushed his old wooden chair in, the dim light swinging above his head, casting shifting shadows along the blood stained walls.

He hesitated in the doorway, only for a moment as if he wanted to say something. Mara hoped he would.

He could sense the shift as well.

“Goodnight,” she calls out, voice steady despite the unease curling in her gut.

Cass only muttered a quick and hushed response before disappearing into his room.

The old house creaked, its many years of surviving wars and droughts, and many worse things taking its toll. The old wood beneath her feet was rotting, damp in places the rain had found its way in. Mara liked to think that the house was once a nice home before the war. Before everything.

She sat in that room for awhile, listening to the house creak and the wind whine outside. It was peaceful when half the world had starved to death.

She turned her attention to the muffled thuds behind her, coming from behind the locked pantry door. The door rattled, the old wood warped and the lock resting on the handle shinning in the dim light.

The dull thuds behind the locked door didn’t scare her anymore. She’d grown used to the guilt that tugged at her chest every time she heard the muffled cries- or a distant shout. But she knew it was only necessary for her an Cass’ survival- or at least, that’s what Mara told herself.

She stood and strode over to the pantry. Dodging the floorboards that creaked loudly, she slid the brass key out from her pocket. She hesitated when her finger tips touched the cool metal.

She took a deep breath, her eyes shuttering closed for a moment before she slipped the key in and opened the door in one swift motion.

On the floor in the corner sat the boy. His eyes were wide with terror as Mara walked in. He hadn’t slept in a long time- it was obvious; the disheveled hair and heavy bags under his fearful eyes. He sat with one leg pulled lose to his chest, his other leg now only a bloodied stub.

Guilt crept its way through Mara’s stomach but she pushed it down. She needed the boy’s arm for tomorrows dinner. That was survival, not cruelty.

“I’m sorry it had to be you.” She pulled out her knife, the one she used to saw through layers of flesh and bone, “I really am.”

The boy flinched at the sight of the blade. “No, you aren’t.”

Mara’s jaw clenched and she nodded with a solemn expression.

Then a sharp pain vibrated through her side.

A knife’s handle stuck out her side, right below her ribs.

Cassian’s familiar voice whispered into her ear, “I had to, Mara.” He slipped the knife out and a new wave of pain overtook her. “I have to kill you.”

Before Mara could recover, Cass’ arms shoved her inside. She fell, her body crashing into the pantry floor and onto the boy. He frantically pushed her off him and ran to Cass’ side with a choked sob.

The door slammed shut.

The lock slid into place.

“Cass?” Mara threw herself at the door, her hands banging on the door’s surface. “Cassian!”

She screamed, voice breaking. And through the door, she could hear Cass’ soft sniffles.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice was thick with tears.

Then he left.

Mara listened to their footsteps, tears sliding down her face. Her side throbbed and her head felt light, breaths uneven and shallow.

And in the darkness, Mara was left to starve to death for the second time in her life.