Violent Delights¹︎ | D.Dixon

3.02 ➸

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CHAPTER TWO
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          IT RAINED HEAVILY OUTSIDE FOR two days after Leona and Margo arrived at the cabin. The smell on the air told her it was still winter, and her lungs still stung when she breathed too hard outside, but it was warm enough for it to rain. She took it as a good sign, not wanting to get stuck in the cabin with a woman she barely knew. But, despite the distrust that brewed in her gut, she couldn't look past the fact that Margo had saved her. Twice. For that reason, and that reason alone, she decided to follow her lead, for now.

The cabin was small. There were two bedrooms, each with a simple bed, nightstand, and dresser to decorate. They were situated on the right side of the cabin, a bathroom wedged between them for privacy, not that it held any use anymore. The kitchen and living room were both open concept, with the couches facing the front door and the back door beside the also-useless refrigerator in the kitchen. The walls were all made of the same type of log, not that she knew what type, or if they were even real. The cabinets used the same shade of stain, while the countertops were plain white, matching the utensils in the drawers.

Leona had yearned for a cabin like this once upon a time. She still did, but the reasons were different now. Before, she wanted the luxury of a second home, a place to decompress by the lake on the weekends after work was stressful. She'd wanted a margarita in one hand and a book in the other, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, watching as the sun set over the water. That was the dream, at least.

Now, she wanted shelter. A place to defend, to live in, to call home. She could fish for food and set traps for animals, humans, and walkers, alike. If she could find the material, she'd build walls tall and strong enough to keep unwanted visitors outside. More than anything, she wanted to keep her child safe. Whether their eyes were green or blue, she had already dreamed of how they would shine when they looked up at the sky, giggling the way Carl had when he was younger. She always envisioned Daryl beside her, holding their child's hand. Their bellies were full, their smiles were bright, and they were happy to stand and watch as the sun sunk below the horizon. Together.

But none of it was real. Dreams were nothing but haunting pictures of what could have been. What should have been. Maybe, if they'd just met before Rick was in the hospital. It probably would've been in a bar, or maybe she would've gotten a flat tire on the highway, and he would've stopped. Or maybe they'd have mutual friends to introduce them, though that she highly doubted.

They'd been so different before the world fell apart. In her heart, she knew they never would've met, and it pained her to know that the love she'd grown to feel for a man she'd known for only a few months was almost something that never was.

Back then, people were cruel and terrible, and now those same attributes are what kept them alive. Now, she had to be cruel, she had to be terrible, she had to be someone she wasn't before, and it was all to survive. There is no such thing as living in the world that had been born from the wreckage of their old one. Survival was first. Everything else was secondary.

She pondered over the same thoughts for hours as she stood at the kitchen sink, watching as rain pattered against the window. It was steady and it made her miss the beautiful windows her apartment in Minneapolis had. It didn't have much as far as square-footage was concerned, but it was built inside a much older refurbished apartment complex that had been partially destroyed in a fire a decade before. Because of it, all of the apartments were brand new with large windows overlooking the city. She'd been lucky to snatch it for a decent price right as it was placed on the market, and the rest had been history. But god, she missed those views, especially when it rained.