She thought she was afraid of him because he was strong and mysterious. He thought he was afraid of her because she was confident and loyal.
In reality, they were afraid of friendship... and love.
Well, if they die, you ask? They'll die in longing...
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୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
"She's a predator, Posing as a house pet." -Tyler Durden
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
H E R
I woke up to an appealing but surprising aroma of a freshly cooked full English breakfast for the however many days in a row: the bacon, the sausage, the scrambled eggs, the toast, the baked beans and of course the hash browns all sounded perfect right now but I had to freshen up first.
Lottie had made a point of reminding me to shower, brush my teeth and change into clean clothes which was something I had gotten in the habit of not doing.
So instead of food or sleep I decided to clumsily fall out of bed and creep towards the bathroom. Getting used to normal life, if you could call it that, was just as difficult to normalise as, say your parents split up and your mum was sad for a while but then found a new boyfriend, you hoped it would happen eventually so she'd feel better but you hated him because he wasn't your dad and seeing him everyday once he moved in was still shocking and terrifying - yeah Woodbury was like that.
After probably only six months out on the road and triple that in Woodbury, my life still felt unnaturally human. Walking towards A FUNCTIONING BATHROOM WITH FUNCTIONING RUNNING WATER still felt like knocking at heavens gate every morning.
When I peered up at the mirror, staring back at me was what looked like a dirty, used mop that just so happened to look like strands of greasy ginger hair laying over pale skin accompanied by the same set of green eyes I'd seen my whole life. Just different. You see, in those very few months, they'd changed - once they were the hue of a new spring, bright and soft all at once which held flecks of strength that came from having my kind of parents and flecks of sincerity that came from having my kind of daughter.
Now when I looked in the mirror all I could see were a set of dull, pale, colourless eyes that could be compared to a stick of drab celery.
Luckily, when I walked outside of the bathroom and towards the kitchen with the amazing smell, I could easily see the wonder-filled eyes I used to have on a certain ginger who needs a brush through her curls.
"What you cooking up there pippi longstocking?" I teased as she turned to me with a confused look. Instead I poked the girl in her ribs to which she laughed and stole a bread roll to which she growled.
Which was good enough for me.
That was basically most she'd spoken since it all began.
