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"darling i'd wait for you even if you didn't ask me to." 𝐣'𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺
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Gazing contemplatively at the mud-coated surface of her sneakers, Lana immersed herself in a momentary reverie, her fingers idly dancing over the familiar contours of her hunting knife. This trusty companion, etched with the scars of numerous encounters in their harsh and unforgiving world, served as both a tool and a silent witness to their journey. The passage of time, once a coherent concept, had become elusive since they relinquished the safety of their temporary haven—roughly two years slipping away in the relentless pursuit of survival.
With deliberate care, Lana sheathed her dagger back into the pocket of her jeans, her actions punctuated by a theatrical groan directed at her brother, Oliver. "Can we stop now? I'm tired," she drawled, a hand placed on her forehead to emphasize her words.
Oliver, well-acquainted with his sister's impatience, responded with an eye roll and a pragmatic reminder, "Not yet. We need to make the most of the sun. It's dangerous to travel at night."
In this interlude, Lana's gaze wandered across their surroundings—a seemingly infinite road flanked by abandoned cars, potential troves of resources. The thick vegetation on either side provided fleeting refuge from the scorching sun, its oppressive heat intensifying the beads of sweat on Lana's forehead. The elusive hair tie, a forgotten luxury from the initial haste of their departure, continued to evade her, leaving her with a cascade of unruly locks.
