❝ That last day in the bunker, I knew I'd never be able to leave. My heart didn't want to leave. Even as I dragged it along with me, it kept finding a way back to you. So I did what I had to." Your voice grew heavy. "Fled to the city, gave away ever...
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"Please don't go," I spoke, a rancid plea laced with my words. "Do you really have to?"
You looked down at your feet. "We ran out of food. We can't run out of water either."
"Yes, we can. It doesn't even matter if we do. The storm isn't going to last for long after today. The newscasters-"
"Can't say anything that will quench our thirst," you completed for me. "I'll be back."
"How far are you going?"
"The townhall-"
"Take me with you," I cut you off. "Don't leave me here."
"Jannat, right now, the safest place you can be in is this bunker. I don't trust the structural integrity of any building out there, at least not until we are absolutely certain the storm has cleared." You swept a strand of hair away from my face. "Completely."
I gulped back tears. "Promise me you'll be back?"
"What makes you think I'm leaving you?"
I don't know what you saw in my eyes, for you held my hand in your own and led me to my corner of the bunker. You sat me down and then grabbed the bucket of water, or what little was left in it. Looking around for another washcloth before you took a seat before me on the floor, you dipped the cloth into the water before gently rubbing it on my cheeks, my forehead, over my lips until you were satisfied enough to put the supplies away.
You unraveled my hair, running your fingers through the knotted waves. You took your time undoing each tangle, each knot, with such precision and care that I hadn't even realized when the deed was done. Even without the help of a bristle brush, even without ripping through my hair, you had done it.
I felt you tug at the strands as you began weaving them together into what I guessed was a braid-after all, you'd never really seen me in anything but a braid.
Once all my hair was neatly assembled, you clutched a blanket and wound it around me, tight but not so that it would suffocate me, until the cold that hung in the air no longer bothered me. It was just you and me and the absolute magic that sparked between us.
"I think I realize what your love language is," I spoke. My cheeks burned and my heart soared. "Pampering."
You walked to the ladder. "And I'll do so for the rest of my life if it's you I'm doing it for."
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