The Will To Live✔️

Chapter 11: Into Darkness

Greg opened his eyes.

It was silent, and for a few seconds, he couldn't recall where he was. The only thing he knew was that he was laying in a bed, and there was a woman next to him. Carefully, he began to maneuver, trying not to wake her. He had just enough time to remember where he was, and that this was Izzy, and that they'd had really good sex last night, before she woke up. Her eyes opened up and she looked around quickly, then zeroed her sights on him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied. She seemed a little guarded. He remembered what she said, what she had requested the night before, and was fully prepared to keep to his promise.

"I think we should get up, get ready for the mines," he said.

She stared at him for a few seconds longer, then nodded. She looked a little relieved. Had she been expecting him to ask for morning sex? He admitted, he was tempted, and had really been hoping she'd be the one to bring it up, but was fully prepared to say nothing.

"That's a good idea," she said, and she pulled the blankets back, then groaned.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, just three bad things hit me all at once: it's cold, I'm sore, and I freaking reek."

"Basically same for me," he agreed.

"We should wash. We can just melt more snow," she said as she got up.

He found his eyes drawn to her bare ass. She was in amazing shape. "Yeah," he agreed, and got up as well.

As they began going about their morning routines, he noticed that she began to relax, which made it easier for him to relax. He remembered waking up a few times and tending to the fire in the night, but otherwise he recalled nothing save for their encounter before sleep. Which was good. It was deeply satisfying, actually, to have no dreams that he could remember. Greg was surprised that he'd had no nightmares.

They had left their supplies near the fire, so the water was at least lukewarm, as opposed to freezing cold, which went a really long way towards a pleasant morning. They washed themselves with soap and rags that they found in the bathroom. This time Greg dried his rag near the fire, then wrapped it around his bar of soap and slipped it into his backpack. He quickly pulled on his uniform, then his armor, and then he looked out the window built into the front door. It was a clear, bright day outside, and he couldn't see any vargs.

"Could you get the fire going full again?" he asked as he moved over and grabbed the two small pots they'd used to cook the soup in last night.

"Yeah, sure," Izzy replied. "You gonna check the perimeter?"

"Yeah, and get snow to melt for water," he replied.

"Okay. Yell if you need me."

"I will."

He first rinsed out the pots with some more water and some napkins he found in the kitchen, then set them on the floor beside the front door, then checked out the window once more, then, after hesitating for a second, he did a quick walk around the cabin and looked out the other windows. Everywhere looked clear, no signs of varg or drub or anything else. He moved back over to the door, unlocked it, and opened it up. The cold air that hit him was surprisingly welcome, it was a little refreshing and helped sharpen him up. Greg pulled out his pistol and stepped out, then closed the door most of the way behind him.

He spent a few minutes checking around the perimeter to be double sure, and once he was, he returned and grabbed the pair of pots. By the time he'd packed them with snow and returned, Izzy had the fire going again. After setting the pots atop the stove, he sat down and began waiting. Izzy sat next to him and rubbed her eyes.