❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦. ❞
they're not very fond of each other, but when they're living in a world with the human death toll rising everyday, they'll do whatever it takes to survive- even if that me...
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🎵run boy run - woodkid
*5 days later*
sasha's slow to walk down the steps. the pain from her ankle has lightened over the past few weeks, and she's able to actually put weight on the foot, but only for certain amount of times. the swelling will return after long periods of pressure. the only way to gain strength on the injured ankle is to practice.
she's close to the end of the stairs, and looks up to see connie reaching his hand out for her. she grabs it with a grateful smile, stepping onto the hardwood of the first floor.
connie's hand never leaves hers as they walk to the living room. "how'd you sleep?"
sasha shrugs. "not well," she halfheartedly smiles. "i had another fucking nightmare." she plops down on the dirty couch. the worn out cushion puffs out dust, making her scrunch her nose up in disgust.
he frowns, taking a seat next to her. "damn, i'm sorry, sasha. this is like the 5th or 6th one this week."
"ah, it's whatever." she sits back, hands snuggled underneath her thighs.
"well, i'm starting to worry." he looks at her. "what's been on your mind? is there anything specific that's stressing you out?"
before sasha's able to think about if she should tell him or not, jean walks into the room. he's carrying an assault rifle one hand, and holds a bag full of magazines and bullets in the other. he peers over to see the pair sitting on the couch. with an eye roll, he sits down on the sofa across from them. the gun is plopped onto the table in front of him, making sasha flinch.
she shakes her head. "i'll tell you later."
her eyesight is kept onto the weapon resting on the table. jean takes some of the magazines out of the bag, setting them next to the gun. the sight, along with jean's pissed off demeanor, reminds her of the dream she just had this morning.
jean could feel sasha's burning eyes digging into his supplies. "not scared of a gun, are you?"
she shoots her eyes up to him. "n-no, it's, uh... it's just..." he slowly tilts his head up to meet her big eyes. he rests his elbow on his knee, twirling a bullet in between his fingers. the small action gives her vivid flashbacks of her dream. she gulps. "nothing."
he chuckles dryly, picking up one of the magazines. the bullets are inserted one by one. "well, just remember that one of these saved you." he lifts up a bullet, pointing it toward sasha. "i bet you're so happy to be alive right now." he says sarcastically. maintaining eye contact, he forces the bullet down into the mag.
sasha sighs to herself. "i'm not." she mutters. it was loud enough for both guys to hear. jean tried to hide the softening of his face, but it was very obvious to sasha.
