The Space Between Us

2 | Fraying Threads

The morning light is dim, filtering weakly through the dust-covered windows. Utah lies awake on her makeshift bedding, eyes fixed on the ceiling as the faint sounds of the undead outside drift in with the breeze. She barely slept, her mind too restless with thoughts of Rudy - her silence, her distance, her coldness that seemed to dig deeper into Utah's heart every day.

She knows she should give her space. She knows, logically, that clinging too tightly is the quickest way to push Rudy further away. But even in the stillness of dawn, when no one else is awake to see her vulnerability, Utah can't help the desperation bubbling within her. Her mind replays every interaction, overanalyzing every word, every glance. If only she could get closer. If only she could find the right words to say, the right way to make her stay.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulls her out of her thoughts. She sits up, instinctively listening for any familiar cadence in the stride, hoping - always hoping - that it's her.

When Rudy steps into view, Utah's heart skips a beat. Her pulse quickens as she scrambles to her feet, smoothing down her hair and clothes in an attempt to look presentable. She waits, holding her breath, hoping for a smile, a nod, anything that acknowledges her presence.

But Rudy barely looks at her. She heads straight for her bag in the corner, digging through it with single-minded purpose. Utah fidgets, forcing herself to wait a moment before daring to speak.

"Good morning," she says softly, keeping her voice light, as if the simple greeting might open a door between them, might spark a warmth that's grown cold over these past weeks.

Rudy grunts in reply, not even looking up. The indifference stings, but Utah forces herself to stay calm, telling herself that it's just how she is, that it isn't personal.

"How... how did you sleep?" She tries again, voice wavering slightly.

There's a pause as Rudy finally glances up, her expression unreadable. "Fine," she says shortly, then returns to rummaging through her things.

Utah shifts her weight from foot to foot, struggling to think of something to say, something that won't come off as clingy or desperate. But the silence feels like a chasm she can't cross, and she's terrified of being left on the other side.

"I was thinking... maybe we could go to the rooftop today?" she ventures, trying to sound casual, though her heart pounds with the fear of rejection. "Just to get some fresh air. I heard it's safe up there, and it might be nice to see the sky, right?"

Rudy straightens up, her expression a mixture of irritation and detachment. "Do we really need to? There's no point in risking it."

Utah opens her mouth to reply, but no words come out. She feels foolish, embarrassed for even suggesting it. The rooftop isn't special, but to her, it feels like a small escape - somewhere she could have a moment, alone with Rudy, away from the constant fear and tension. She swallows, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"You're right," she says quickly, dismissing her own suggestion before it can hang awkwardly in the air. "I just thought... never mind."

The silence settles between them, thick and uncomfortable. Rudy lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder. "I'm going to check the lower floors," she mutters, her tone flat. "Make sure none of those things have broken in."

"Oh, I can come with you," Utah says, her voice a little too eager.

But Rudy shakes her head, already moving toward the door. "It's fine. I'll be faster on my own."

And with that, she's gone, leaving Utah standing alone in the empty room, her heart sinking. She feels like she's been slapped, the dismissal a cold reminder of the distance between them. She fights the urge to chase after her, to cling to whatever remains between them. But the nagging voice in her mind keeps whispering that she's too much, that her presence is unwanted, that she's clinging to a person who doesn't want to be caught.