𝒍𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂 ➶ [ s. walsh ]

xxv. | ❝ mine. ❞

LOLITA.
xxv. | ❝ mine. ❞

✧

WHEREVER THE SMOKE was coming from was their final destination. That's what Shane drove towards, his large hand resting on Cassandra's thigh while the other gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. Pretty soon, the tops of the trees obscured the phantom fingers which stroked the breadth of the bright blue sky, but judging by the throngs of the dead stumbling alongside them, they were getting close.

When the foliage finally thinned and they eventually pulled into an enormous clearing, Shane slowed the car to a crawl.

"Shit," he breathed.

The West Georgia Correctional Facility towered in the distance, its fences fallen. Smoke billowed from its towers, as well as from what looked like an abandoned tank that stood parked in the middle of the courtyard. Bodies littered the compound; the closest thing to living beings staggering towards the car and thumping their fists against the windows weakly, guttural snarls escaping jaws that were hanging by a thread.

"What do you think happened?" Cassandra asked after a long pause, her voice laced with fear.

The dark-eyed deputy gave her leg a reassuring squeeze, glancing towards her before reversing and manoeuvring the vehicle back towards the road, crushing several of the walkers that had been trailing after them. "I dunno, baby, but it don't look good. I wouldn't stick around an' find out."

They drove back in silence, the sickly, nauseating stench of death and smoke lingering in their nostrils and making their throats sting.

Cassandra could have sworn she spotted someone crouching in the bushes at the very edge of the dirt track; their figure slight and scrawny, and a thatch of short, scruffy grey hair atop their head.

When Shane eventually pulled into the grassy expanse of their fenced-in fortress, the auburn-haired beauty didn't even acknowledge her lover as she flung the car door open and slid out of the slightly sticky leather seat. She kicked off her canvas shoes as soon as she set foot in the house, leaving them strewn across the hallway messily, before running up the staircase and disappearing in a flurry of cherry-patterned cotton and unkempt strawberry blonde ringlets.

Shane heard the bathroom door slam shut behind her as he entered the living room. He knew that she was upset. She always tended to act in a particularly capricious manner when she saw the aftermath of what had occurred beyond their safe haven.

Raking a hand through his tousled hair, Shane turned on his heel and made his way upstairs. His heart throbbed with the desire to comfort her, to protect her from being pillaged by her own emotions; his broad, Herculean chest aching from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it.

He knocked before he entered, finding the tiles slippery with condensation and steam dancing around her naked, supple form. Within seconds, his t-shirt, combat trousers, socks, and boxers lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, and his bare skin seared beneath the spray of water that seemed to soothe her. His arms enveloped her, and she cast her bright eyes down towards his large, tanned hands which stroked across the soft curves of her stomach and hips possessively.

Turning to face him, Cassandra wound her arms around her curly-haired saviour's thick neck, complete with the '22' that adorned a silver chain. Just beneath that were the words 'Lil Bird', which had been tattooed into the skin of his chest. She recalled the night before, when she lay tangled up in his sheets, and she asked him if she was his 'Lil Bird' as she traced her fingers over the dark blue ink, desperately trying to rid his mind of distant memories of high-school sweethearts and late-night hook-ups.

Shane bent his head, brushing his lips against hers in the ghost of a kiss. He tasted the dew that peppered their rosy expanse, his dark hues fluttering shut and the breath catching in his throat. She was finally his, in the way that she loved him and he loved her, and he savoured the sensation of her glassy, voluptuous body pressed flush against the contours of his own muscular form.

When they finally stepped out of the shower and padded to Shane's bedroom, swathed in thick, fluffy towels, Cassandra's neck and shoulders were stained purple with her saviour's ardour. Her chest, in all its buxom splendour, blushing pink.

Shane noticed this, his thumb tracing over Cassandra's cheek and dragging down her lower lip as she perched on the edge of his bed, only to linger at her collarbone, his fingertips splayed across her flushed skin. He withdrew his hand swiftly, as though he had thrust it into flames, then reached behind himself to undo the clasp of his necklace.

Silently, but with a fond smile lingering at the corners of his lips, the dark-haired deputy swept Cassandra's damp, russet-coloured tendrils to one side before looping the chain around the aristocratic arch of her neck and securing it.

She reached up to fondle the simple pendant that now rested against the hollow of her throat, gazing up at him earnestly.

"Mine," he uttered simply, his voice low.

"Yours," she echoed, struggling to hide the grin that threatened to unfurl across the mouth that her broad-shouldered inamorato had just ravaged.

⠀༚⠀⠀༷⠀⠀ྃ

A/N: hi, yes, i have come to realise that love is not real unless it's between cassandra and shane and i will now be living vicariously through them.

that's good news for you guys bc it means more updates <33