The days bled together, a tapestry woven with shared meals on the floor, the comforting presence of the Ceniza couple fussing over Austyn and Keith like their own, and the strange, quiet camaraderie that bloomed in the ruins of our world. Allie and Kaito, so different at first glance, had forged a bond during our scavenging trips. I'd watch them, their heads bent together as they debated over a can of peaches, a small smile playing on my lips.
Then there was Maegan, her eyes constantly seeking out Eron, a flush painting her cheeks whenever he was near. He, in turn, would shoot me a desperate, silent plea, his eyes wide and bewildered. It was ridiculous, the way he looked, a grown man caught in the crossfire of teenage infatuation. And of course, Sam would bristle, his jealousy a palpable thing, a third wheel caught in a cycle that only made me laugh harder.
One night, I couldn't sleep. The quiet of the makeshift camp was thick with the weight of what we were living through. I found myself huddled on the floor, a small candle casting long shadows, my hand scratching across the worn page of a notebook. I was trying to capture the strange beauty of our shared existence, the bonds we were forging in the face of unimaginable loss. The words flowed, not quite a poem yet, more like a string of thoughts trying to find their form.
Then I sensed him. The air shifted, the silence broken by his almost imperceptible approach. I didn't look up, I knew it was Eron. He stood there, just watching, and I let him. He tried to get closer, a hesitant step, and another. It was as if he thought I was lost in my own world, and was about to give me a fright to pull me out. Before he could, I looked up, and his face was inches from mine.
He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "I knew I couldn't scare you," he whispered. I just looked at him, really looked. It was the first time I had noticed the constellation of freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, the way his dark hair had grown, brushing against his neck. "Your hair... it looks good," I blurted out, a little surprised by the observation. I suggested he tie it back, keep it out of his face. He nodded, asking me to teach him how, and I did, my fingers brushing against his hair, a strange, unfamiliar sensation.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Don't you like me?" My fingers stilled in his hair. He slowly looked back at me, searching my face. I didn't know yet, I really didn't, the feeling was too messy, too entangled with everything that was happening.
"You don't have to give me an answer," he said, his voice low, "I just wanted you to know that I do. Really, Kira. I'm sorry for being so abrupt." He stood up, turning to leave, when I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, he turned back, almost awkwardly. He pulled something from his pocket, a bracelet watch, the kind that was popular before, and tied it around my wrist. He explained, his voice hushed, that he'd found it in the ruins, still brand new. I looked at him, and he avoided my eyes, eventually meeting mine again, his gaze full of unspoken emotions.
"We had found a safe travel route," he continued, his voice shaky now. "We will try to go there, but it'll be dangerous...since there was competition we encountered." It was as if he was saying goodbye, a farewell wrapped in the guise of information. His eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. "Can I hug you?" he asked, and in that moment, I was speechless, overwhelmed by the rapid succession of feelings coursing through me. I felt strange emotions bubbling inside me, it was happening so fast and I.. he pulled me into a tight embrace, the familiar scent of smoke and earth clinging to him. Then he whispered, "Goodnight, Kira", and left, leaving me there, the weight of the bracelet watch heavy on my wrist, and the echoes of his words reverberating in the silent night.