ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏᴄᴇʟɪᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀɢᴜᴇ// 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧

||ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ||

"Goodnight," I replied, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of the fire lull me into a light, restless sleep, always on the edge, always prepared for what might come next.

I held my hands closer to the fire, the warmth spreading through my fingers as I tended to our breakfast. The quiet of the morning was broken only by the crackling flames and a faint shuffling behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Elena stirring awake, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to tame her messy morning hair. A soft chuckle escaped me as I turned back to the food, the familiar routine of survival grounding us in this new day.

"Coffee?" I offered, holding out the cup in my hand.

"Yes, please!" Elena said eagerly, taking the cup with a small smile. She took a sip, and though I half-expected her to grimace at the bitter taste, she drank it down without complaint. Out here, this terrible, probably expired coffee was the only thing that kept us going. Caffeine was caffeine, and we were grateful for any small boost it could give us. I poured myself a cup from the pot and took a long sip, feeling the warmth spread through me, offering a brief moment of relief from everything weighing on my mind.

Elena sat next to me, sipping her coffee and occasionally stirring it around with just a small twirl. I pulled out two MRE packs we had scavenged along the way, holding them up for her to see.

"Elena, which one do you want? Beef taco or spaghetti with beef and sauce?" I asked, reading the labels aloud.

She looked at both with a hungry gaze. "I want both," she said, eyes gleaming mischievously.

I chuckled. "We can share," I suggested, shaking my head in amusement.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Elena replied with a grin.

Preparing our meals didn't take long; just a bit of water to heat them up in the bags. As the steam rose, I handed Elena half of my beef taco, and she handed me half of her spaghetti. We looked at our mismatched bowls—tacos mixed with spaghetti, an odd but somehow perfect combination for the moment. It was such a small, absurd thing, but it made us laugh, a real, hearty laugh that we hadn't shared in a long time. For a second, it felt like the world wasn't quite so heavy, and we were just two sisters having a strange but comforting meal together.

Savoring each bite, we ate slowly, the warmth from the food and the fire providing a small sanctuary against the cold outside. Even as the darkness pressed in, we found solace in these little moments—our odd breakfast, Elena's smile, and the shared understanding that whatever happened next, we'd face it together.

We packed up the rest of our belongings, stuffing them into our worn-out bags before setting off again. The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on us relentlessly as we trudged along the cracked pavement. My legs ached with each step, a dull throb that seemed to echo the exhaustion settling into my bones. I could tell Elena was just as worn out—her steps were slower, her shoulders slumped. The heat was unforgiving, and I could feel the sting of sunburn creeping across my face.

I touched my cheek, wincing at the burning sensation. "Ugh," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm sunburnt too," Elena complained, her voice carrying a tone of shared misery.

"Yeah, I wish we had some sunscreen," I replied, scanning the landscape as if it might magically appear. Our skin was turning a painful shade of red, a trait we probably inherited from our mother's side. She was Italian, with fair, pale skin that burned easily under the sun. I could still picture her—delicate and beautiful, with full, heart-shaped lips, long, flowing brunette hair, and a small, petite figure that made her seem so fragile. Both Elena and I had inherited a lot of her features, from the sun-sensitive skin to our shorter heights.