27 | Damsel in Distress

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"I don't know what's happening to me."

‧ ✩ 。 ✭ ° ☆ ・ _______ ・ ☆ ° ✭ 。 ✩ ‧



It's dark when they reach camp. A small group gathered by a bonfire congratulate them on their game, and once Amber and Ant have dumped it at the dropship, Ant goes back to join them. Amber considers following him, knowing that sleep won't welcome her so early after the boar encounter, but she heads for her tent instead, expecting to find Jules waiting for her.

Her plans are forgotten when Murphy dispatches from the shadows ahead.

"Well, look at that. The damsel in distress returns, finally deciding to bless us with her presence," he calls, planting his feet in her path.

"You're cranky," she notes, mildly amused. Fraught unease permeates the air around Murphy, but it dwindles once she stands in front of him. "Trouble falling asleep again?"

"Yeah, something like that," he mutters, pauses, then gives her a humorless grin paired with a shrug. "Can't shake the thrilling notion that I'll wake up with a knife buried in my throat."

She gives him a weak smile, before sighing. "Then let's not bother."

Murphy furrows his brow and she tilts her head with an encouraging smile in the direction of the bonfire, where the group's chatter continues. There's no point in turning and squirming wide awake in their beds for hours if they can instead spend that time in each other's company.

He shakes his head. "I hate to burst your bubble but I'm not exactly popular around here. You're the only one who still talks to me."

"Call it a mild form of masochism."

Finding a quiet corner of camp, they work together to coax their own discreet fire to life. When the flames finally settle into a steady crackle, comforting silence enwraps them as they sit beside each other and watch the result of their shared effort. It's not long until the warm aroma of burning pines drives away the night's chill and Murphy begins to shed his jacket, unaware of Amber's glances as their conversation a few nights ago replays in her mind.

But then his eyes meet hers and her heart jumps. Smiling sheepishly, she firmly locks her gaze on the fire, before deciding to follow his lead by removing her jacket as well.

"Hey, Amber!" When she turns at Ant's call, she sees him approach with a poorly disguised grin. She makes sure to lean away from Murphy as Ant stops in front of them, holding out a tiny silver flask for her. "This is to properly thank you for saving my stupid ass before."

She takes it curiously.

"It's Monty's moonshine. Or Unity Juice," he explains. "Looked like you could need it on such a beautiful night as this."

To distract Murphy from the nudge in Ant's eyebrow, she quickly asks, "How do you have this?"

"I tried to hide away as much as I could while everyone was too wasted to notice. I planned to bargain it for favors, but considering you've already done me the biggest one, it's yours."

"And people think Zeph is the business genius," she comments playfully, referring back to how the camp's bladesmith was arrested for supplying the black market with weapons.

Her smile tenses when she naively lifts the opening of the flask to her nose and the familiar smell hits her, its sting dangerously covered by a deceitful, sticky sweetness. She takes a careful sip, only to find it's as acidic as she remembers.

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