End of the Day

5:45 am (day 645)

Lauren groans when something thumps against her forehead, startling her awake. She pulls it off, seeing that it's a balled-up hoodie, "What the hell?" She says groggily, squinting at Camila. She has her back to Lauren, putting together her pack. She could practically feel the smirk on her face.

"Get up. We're going on a supply run," Camila turns, tossing her pack over her shoulders and adjusting her jacket, "Put on the sweatshirt. It's chilly."

Lauren trudges out of bed, grumbling a bunch of nonsense as she tugs the sweatshirt over her head. She takes a moment to stretch and runs her fingers through her hair to get the knots out. She gives up when she comes in contact with a particularly feisty knot, opting to just pull the hood over her head and call it a day.

She grabs her stuff relatively quickly and meets Camila outside, stuffing her hands in the pockets and following behind Camila, "Why do you do this so early in the mornings?" Lauren complains, "The whole point of the apocalypse is to eliminate responsibility and bring forth the anarchy. Which means we can wake up whenever we want... which means I get more... more sleep," Lauren yawns halfway through her complaining.

"Don't act like you were asleep," Camila says knowingly, "I heard you wake up from that nightmare in the middle of the night. You never sleep after those."

"And how would you know that?" Lauren raises a skeptical brow.

"I get them too," Camila shrugs, stepping over a fallen street lamp. Lauren purses her lips thoughtfully, but keeps on walking in silence. The only sounds come from the nature around them; birds chirping in the distance, the humming of what must be cicadas... and it's all topped off by the glow of the rising sun.

It doesn't even matter that it's cold, or that Lauren can see her breath in the air. It only matters that at least she isn't like any of them. She survived, and somehow Camila had too. She doesn't know why, but they had.

"I sure hope it wasn't intended for us to reproduce and start up the human race again."

Camila stops in her tracks and glares, "Really? That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course," Lauren nods, "I'm a hormonal girl in a world with only one other female—that I know of—to engage in sexual relations with. Why wouldn't I be thinking about it? Especially when you look like, well... you."

Camila can't decide if she's flattered or annoyed.

"This conversation has taken a turn," Camila grips the straps of her pack nervously, though she's not sure where the nerves had come from. She keeps walking, causing Lauren to continue on as well.

"Can it take a turn all the way back to home base? My feet hurt."

"We haven't even been out here for more than thirty minutes," Camila rolls her eyes, "And besides, if anyone's leg should hurt, it should be mine."

"That was... two weeks ago. And you've been applying my medicine, so it should be healed by now," Lauren counters, "Let's at least take a break... I never got breakfast."

Camila can't resist the pout.

-

Edited 6/14/19