#ftwd x ps reader

[plus-size-reader]

Peace

Troy Otto x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3842 words

Warnings: None

Summary: The reader comes across Troy’s notebook while he’s out, and notices something strange. 

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You hadn’t meant to snoop.

Jake had asked you to find Troy, said he had to talk to him but didn’t have the time to track him down. He was a busy man, after all, and if Jeremiah needed help, he couldn’t exactly make him wait.

So, you agreed.

You took off toward Troy’s room, assuming that given the time of day and schedule for rounds, that was where he would be.

He wasn’t.

His bedroom was unoccupied by the time you reached it, but not empty.

On the floor, out of place in the immaculate space, was that leather-bound notebook he carried with him all the time. It was one of his most prized possessions and you knew he would be missing it, if he didn’t realize it was gone.

That was it.

By all accounts, you were trying to do something nice. You figured it had fallen out of his back pocket when he was getting dressed or rushing out the door to get to his post.

You had to find him anyway, so when you did, you could take it to him.

It was innocent, at least, at first.

You had only good intentions and you weren’t even going to open it, but almost on instinct, as soon as you touched the leather, you flipped open the front cover. Whether out of curiosity or habit, you weren’t sure but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered as soon as it was open was the ink, dried to the page and committing his every thought, as if recording for posterity.

On the first page, he’d written his name, followed by a date. If you had to guess, you’d say that was the day he obtained it.

It was interesting.

Troy’s handwriting was delicate and even, and you could tell that he put time into every single letter and number. Like he knew they would be there forever and couldn’t handle a mistake.

You smiled, letting yourself sit at the foot of his bed, your fingers tracing each letter as you read them.

For the most part, his notebook was filled with what you would have expected. Factual scribblings and miscellaneous numbers that held no meaning to anyone other than Troy.

In all honesty, you barely understood what you were looking at.

…but it didn’t matter.

Troy had been carrying this time with him everywhere he went since you’d met him, and never once had you held it like this. Never had you looked upon the pages, or even asked what he was always writing.

You just let him keep his secrets, because everyone had something that was just for them, but now that you were seeing it, you didn’t regret picking it up.

No matter how wrong it was.

You felt like, for what was probably the first time, you were seeing Troy for who he was and he wasn’t even in the room with you.

The next few pages were less interesting, though just as telling, with every inch of the paper covered with dates and times.

The watch schedule.

After that, you found what seemed to be a detailed list of miscellanious items, and quantities that had to be supply logs from his runs. You could tell because of the delicate little checks beside each thing, telling you he'd cataloged them.

That was who Troy was.

Organized and meticulous, even when he was within his own private thoughts.

It continued on like that for a while. Page after page full of numbers, little symbols and time stamps, but you didn’t skip over a single one. You took your time considering each little marking, far more than you’d ever studied anything in your life.

It was almost as if you were reading a roadmap and you couldn't forget a single detail, which in a way, you were.

This notebook was a reflection of Troy, and not just who he presented to people on the outside, but the real Troy.

This was the closest thing he’d ever keep to a personal journal, and while it didn’t contain any written feeling or sentiment, you could feel it.

With each word you read, and each number you attempted to quantify, you got it. You understood who he was, more and more.

In a way that he could never have expressed to your face.

You were remarkably relaxed as you read, considering you were actively betraying the personal privacy of one of your closest friends, but that all came to a screeching halt as you neared the center of the book.

There, above everything else you’d seen so far, you found something that surprised you. Something within the collection of thoughts that actually confused you more than anything else had.

It was you.

There, on those worn pages, was you. Or, at the very least, some sort of tribute to you. The resemblance was stark, and you couldn’t have explained it away if you tried.

Which obviously wasn’t what you expected.

Still, you didn’t move to make anything of it at first. You knew Troy well enough to know that there could very well be drawings of every single person he’d ever seen hidden within the covers.

Maybe he just didn’t want to forget the people he knew. Maybe he didn’t want to forget their faces.

That would have been a perfectly reasonable thing to do considering the world you lived in, and how frequently people left your lives.

The second drawing was harder to explain away, and by the time you reached a seventh page, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

They were all of you.

Each one was different, and just as great a resemblance, but they were all of you.

You could feel your face scrunch up slightly as you considered what you were looking at, before eventually turning back to the first drawing of many and just looking at it for a while.

It was good.

A simple pencil sketch, with harsher lines and shading in some areas, where Troy had deemed necessary and softer, lighter emphaisis on others. Complete, of course, with the date in the corner.

It looked a lot like you.

The first one, the one that had caught your attention in the first place, was of your face. There was a soft, almost serene smile on your face and you looked happy.

You looked pretty, if you could look pretty in a pencil drawing.

The second was farther away, and featured you in the middle of cleaning your hand gun on the picnic table. The third was of you reading, your back against the shed and a sharp look of concentration on your face.

Did you really twist your face up like that when you read? You must have.

There were a few others, all capturing you as you existed, in the exact way you must have looked and you couldn’t help but feel like you were watching yourself through Troy’s eyes.

It was strange.

Still, you didn’t stop your quest and continued looking from page to page, until you came to the most recent drawing.

The last drawing in the set.

This one featured you, sitting in front of a roaring fire with the full expanse of the desert at your back. By all means, it was no different than the others, but for some reason, it felt different as you studied it.

You looked peaceful, almost comfortable, with a wide smile on your face and it would be a lie to say that you didn’t find it beautiful.

It was.

That was when it dawned on you.

You remembered this, remembered sitting in the dirt like you were on the page, telling the militia jokes and listening to their stories about what life was like for them before the fall.

Troy had been so quiet that night. This notebook of his had his full attention the entire night, and at the time, you thought he was taking notes, strategizing and planning out your next moves.

…but he wasn’t.

If the date in the corner of the page was correct, that meant he was doing this that whole time.

His mind wasn’t wondering to far away possibilities, or bloody disasters that no one could prevent except for him. His was watching you, studying the lines of your body and the contours of your face.

Listening to your voice and doing his best to capture the emotion on your face to the page, so that it didn’t have to live in his memories alone.

Wow.

You were quiet for a moment as you thought over the implications of this, or if they were any implications at all, only stopping when you heard the sound of Troy’s truck coming up the road.

It had to be him.

It was always him.

At the sudden distraction, you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding after a moment, and forced yourself to close the notebook, but you didn’t put it down.

You couldn’t.

For some reason, you felt like if you allowed the leather to separate from your fingers, it would go away somehow. Like, if you set it down, what you now knew would be lost to you forever.

So, rather than be caught in his room without explanation, you tucked the book into your back pocket, where Troy often kept it on his own body, and left.

In a lot of ways, it was the perfect crime.

There was no way that Troy could actually prove that you had been in his room, and considering the fact that you were sure he didn’t realize his journal was missing, he wouldn’t know you’d seen it.

He didn’t have to know.

…but part of you didn’t want that.

Part of you didn’t want to get away with what you’d done, to get away with reading his notebook and learning what you had without something changing.

Everything had changed.

This proved it, whether Troy meant for it to or not.

~

You decided not to say anything at first.

Not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t know how. It wasn’t as if you could just go up to him and ask why he’d been sketching scarily accurate portraits of you in his spare time.

So, until you could make up your mind about what you wanted to do, you decided to do nothing.

Instead, you focused your energy forward toward where Troy was, unloading his pack and guns from the back of the truck with Cooper and Blake.

They weren’t scheduled for a run this morning, at least, not to your knowledge but you didn’t have time to care about that. The important thing was that they just got back and they were too preoccupied to notice you.

…but you weren’t preoccupied.

Not anymore.

In fact, as you looked upon Troy at this moment, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Like, you finally had a point of reference for how he thought and what happened inside his head when he got all quiet.

Like you were looking at a brand-new person.

You tried to think back to the way he looked at you, looking over that notebook of his, that soft concentration consuming everything else around him. Maybe if you saw the world like that, it would be better.

If you saw him the way he saw you.

In your head, Troy had always been this untouchable force. He was stoic and solid, barking orders and burying everything he felt no matter how unpleasant it may have been, but that wasn’t all there was to him.

There couldn’t be.

As you watched him and took note of the way his face faltered as he scanned the crowd, you saw it. A glimmer of something that wasn’t quite as untouchable as you would have thought.

He was unsure, and given the way, he winced slightly after slugging on his pack, tired too but that wasn’t all. There was a silent joy in the way he wiped the blood from his hands and a whisper of adrenaline clear from the pep in his step.

How was it possible?

Had he always been this complex and you’d just managed to miss it? Or was it simpler than that? Maybe you didn’t want to notice because you couldn’t handle the gamble.

You couldn’t handle being let down, not by Troy. He was too important to you, and if you were to fall too hard, you knew you’d never be able to claw your way back up.

Not that you had much of a choice now.

You had picked up that notebook, and there was no taking that back. The most you could do now was keep going, and deal with what followed with as much grace as you could muster.

“Hey, there you are”

It was the sound of Troy’s voice that brought you out of your head, but not in time to actually prepare yourself for having to face him.

The best you could do was smile, desperately hoping that your face didn’t look as guilty and conflicted as you felt.

“Yeah, here I am,” you tried, willing yourself to focus on the conversation at hand and not on the way the midday sun made his eyes sparkle. Was he watching you like you were watching him?

Stop it.

“I was supposed to tell you to find Jake. He was looking for you” you forced, giving the blonde a soft smile before continuing on your way, brushing past him only slightly in your hurry.

You couldn’t do this.

How were you supposed to just go about your life like you didn’t know he was silently studying every little thing about you?

How did you do that?

“Y/N, wait up. What’s going on?” Troy called out, shocked by your uncharacteristic briefness and evidently choosing this very moment to start caring about other people’s feelings.

Perfect.

You stopped, considering your options for a second as you waited for him to meet your side, his boots keeping time with his usual stride.

On one hand, you could just abandon your original plan and tell him about the notebook, confess that you’d read it and that you had seen the drawings. On the other hand, you could keep it hidden and say nothing, but that was a bandage at best.

Eventually, you would have to give it back.

So, you took a deep breath and made up your mind. Today was going to be the day that you faced Troy Otto and the feelings you had for him that you’d been steadily burying since you’d met.

You didn’t have any other choice.

It was unceremonious, all things considered, the way you just pulled the small book from your pocket but you didn’t really care. Of all the things currently fighting for the top spot in your mind, finesse didn’t even crack the top ten.

There was no getting away from this and the longer you tried to play it off, the worse it was going to be for both of you.

There was probably a perfectly casual explanation that you just had yet to consider. All you could know for sure right now was that you were never going to know if you didn’t give Troy a chance to explain himself.

“You found it” he allowed, gingerly taking the book from your hands and inspecting it lightly before returning it back to where it belonged.

Safely away in the back pocket of his jeans, away from prying eyes like yours.

“Yeah, I found it.” you could practically feel your blood dropping in temperature as you forced yourself to take the leap. “And I read it too”

Troy’s blood ran cold as soon as you spoke.

You read it? What did that mean? Most of what he’d cataloged in that book wasn’t something you would have been able to understand, even with as clever as you happened to be.

It was an extension of what happened inside his head, and if he was being honest, Troy was lucky he could understand what he’d written most of the time.

It wasn’t possible that you’d read it.

It just wasn’t possible.

“What do you mean?” his words were much more pensive this time, as he waited for you to explain yourself.

Troy was smart, and he knew better than to incriminate himself, even if technically he hadn’t done anything wrong. The drawings were creepy, sure, but not necessarily disallowed.

“It’s a good likeness. It could have been a lot worse. I mean, I didn’t even know you could draw” you shrugged, telling him everything he needed to know without having to actually admit to what you both knew out loud.

It was the most painless option, but knowing that didn’t stop Troy from panicking as he considered what this might mean for the two of you in the future. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you for whatever choice you made.

He’d crossed a line, again.

“You weren’t supposed to see those” he tried, ultimately preparing himself for the yelling or screaming that would follow your discovery.

It was strange.

Troy knew that when he started the sketches, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop once he’d started. There was just something about you, and the way you looked when you were completely in your element.

It was like the rest of the world fell away, and even if for a moment, he wanted to capture it.

…but there was no way for him to explain that to you without making the whole thing a lot worse than it already was.

After all, the only thing more inappropriate than drawing you without your permission or awareness would be justifying it with unreciprocated feelings of admiration.

Feelings he could hardly rectify within his own head, let alone out loud to you.

“Why do you draw them?” you wondered, heading back down the hill toward your own cabin, Troy following you gingerly.

You had no idea what you were doing here, or what difference this whole thing would make but you knew that you had to talk about it. You had to figure out where to go from here, and you’d rather do it without an audience.

This definitely wasn’t the business of anyone else at the ranch.

He sighed, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you moved, making no motion to say anything else until he spoke. “Got bored” he tried, his voice wavering in a way you’d never heard before.

“Don’t lie. It’s okay, I just want to know why” you shrugged, practically pleading with him to tell you the truth.

You didn’t blame him for assuming the worst. That was just who Troy was, and who he would always be, but you weren’t angry with him for this.

You were just surprised.

Most of the drawings, kept between important data he’d collected, were of you out in the world, going about your day and unaware that you were being watched.

Which, to some, may have been unsettling but you didn’t think so. You knew Troy and you knew that in order for him to put the time and effort into these, they were important to him.

Because you were important to him.

All you wanted was to hear him say it.

“Truth?” he hummed, more for himself than you as he bought just a little more time before you finally stopped, just far enough away from the center of the ranch to have some privacy.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way his gaze shifted around your face before finally dropping to the dirt.

“You’re real. Real and beautiful” Troy shrugged, in what had to be the most pitiful attempt at minimizing himself that you’d ever seen.

This wasn’t who he was.

Troy was strong and self-assured. You had never seen him doubt a decision or second guess a choice once in all the time you’d known him unless that was just another one of his illusions you’d never looked twice at.

Sensing you weren’t content with just that, he continued, laying his soul bare in a way you’d never expected.

Not from him.

“You know that feeling when you’re staring them down out there, and you know that if you make one wrong move or miss anything, that will be it?” he questioned, clearly referencing the dead and the thrill he got from the sick little game of chicken you’d had to put a stop to quite a few times before.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me?” you started, only to stop again when Troy continued, “The feeling after, when they’re all dead and everything is okay again…that’s how I feel when I’m around you”

Troy paused, his eyes meetings yours for a moment as he breathed, clearly trying to gauge your reaction to his confession so far.

He found nothing.

You knew the feeling he was talking about. The relief that flooded your body when the adrenaline peaked after the danger had already faded away and you could revel in what you’d accomplished.

…but the drawings.

You didn’t understand how they were related.

So, clearly following your train of thought, Troy fished the book out of his pocket and opened it, pausing only briefly before showing you the page he’d ended on.

It was further along in the journal than you’d gotten in your initial search this morning but it would seem that there was a reason for that.

It was another drawing of you.

This time, you were curled up in your sleeping bag, fast asleep. It wasn’t entirely different from any of the others, but considering that it was the one he’d chosen, you knew it was special.

It was his favorite.

This was the first one he’d drawn. The one that had started the habit that he’d yet to break, even now.

You had been out with the rest of the militia. Under his direction, you’d wandered too far away from the ranch and bunked down for the night in a cave, but for the life of him, Troy couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t quiet his mind and he certainly couldn’t have hoped to get any sleep, so he picked up his notebook. At first, he was just going to read over his notes from the outpost, but then he glanced over at you.

You were too peaceful and too beautiful. It made him feel something he’d never felt and some part of him felt like if he didn’t commemorate it somewhere, that feeling would just slip away and he didn’t want to let it go.

He couldn't let it go.

“I won’t say I love you, because I don’t think I’d know even if I did, but I draw these because they remind me of what I do it for,” Troy muttered, admiring the graphite as if he’d done it a hundred times before, and maybe he had.

“They remind me of what peace feels like”

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[plus-size-reader]

The Dark

Nick Clark x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Struggling to adjust to the sheer normalcy of life on Broke Jaw Ranch after being on the road.

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The adjustment to the Ranch was proving to be far harder for you than you would have expected.

It was a perfectly nice place and there was no reason that it shouldn’t have been the greatest thing that had happened to you since the fall of the world.

Other than the fact that everything about it just seemed off.

You had been looking over your shoulder for so long, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, that being in a house again just made you feel like a caged animal.

It was strange how things like that could change in an instant. How something you had once done every day without thought, that made you feel so comfortable, now was nearly enough to make you crawl out of your skin.

It felt wrong.

No matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to come to terms with the way it felt. You were uncomfortable, finding yourself more and more uneasy as the days went by, instead of settling in like the others.

This was just the way the world was now and you had to get used to that. The trouble was that you just couldn’t be sure if this was the new normal or not.

You couldn’t trust that this was what it was and that it wasn’t going to change at a moment's notice.

After all, this used to be the norm and just as quickly as it had gone away, it was back. It was only natural that you struggled a bit in the interim.

For example, you had just finished your first real shower in years, during which you had scrubbed what felt like a lifetime of dirt and grime from your flesh. It felt raw once you’d finished, but that wasn’t the strangest part.

The strangest part by far was the coconut shampoo you found already waiting for you in the cabin you’d been given, fully stocked with anything you or the Clarks could have ever needed.

It was insane to smell like a tropical oasis after so much time.

It was wrong.

To even think about it was too much for you to comprehend and in some ways, it may have even scared you. It was too normal and too mundane for you to be able to relax, even though every fiber of your being was begging you to.

After all, you were physically and mentally exhausted. It was just that the idea of getting too comfortable here constantly plagued your mind, and that paranoia of no longer being prepared for the outside world was daunting.

Paralyzing.

Still, you did your very best to avoid letting anyone in your group know just how much you were struggling with this.

There was nothing they could do to help, and even if they could, it wasn’t as if you were alone in your distrust. Everyone here was feeling the familiar strangling sensation of normalcy, threatening to choke the life out of you all if you let it.

So, you kept up a brave face and didn’t say anything.

For the most part, it worked well. You did everything you could to keep your mind off of the strange nature of it all, cleaning and recleaning your handgun and keeping a constant eye out for any signs of compromise in the fence.

Anything to keep your wits about you.

Though, no matter what you did, everything seemed to change when the sun went down.

All of that paranoia and fear got worse when you couldn’t rely on the daylight to keep your composure. Even something as simple as a stray beam of light across the wall made you panic, with everything registering as a threat.

It was as if you couldn’t turn those reflexes off, regardless of how hard you tried.

What you didn’t realize was that you weren’t alone in your anxiety and there was another in your group, staring out into the darkness, unable to even consider sleep.

Across the room, right now, Nick was staring up at the same shadows dancing along the ceiling as you were, considering each one carefully.

As if there was some secret held within them that he couldn’t quite make out.

This went on for a while longer before eventually, Nick decided that he’d had enough of trying to sleep in the bunk he’d been given and made his way, as quietly as he could, outside.

Anything would have been better than trying to sleep, knowing he couldn’t have been farther from getting any rest.

At least outside, he could see any threats coming, instead of just waiting for them to catch him when he turned his back.

Nick was quiet.

All things considered, you were sure that no one else knew that he was even awake, but between the creaking of the door on its hinges and the fact he walked heavily on his feet, you couldn’t have hoped to miss it.

Not when you’d been awake for hours.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do. You got up as quietly as you could, your bare feet padding on the wood floors in a cadence all their own.

Past where Madison and Alicia were fast asleep in their own beds until finally, you found yourself on the front porch.

In the short time, it had taken you to catch up to him, Nick was already standing on the porch, a lit cigarette held between his lips as he stared out into the desert beyond the walls.

Obviously, you two were having the same problem.

“Can’t sleep?” you called, only briefly contemplating going back inside to suffer alone before deciding against that. For all you knew, Nick was coming out here to have some alone time and you were just going to be a bother.

…but, considering the very thought of going back in there now filled that pit in your stomach with dread, so you continued on your way, only stopping when you reached the banister.

You figured being with him would be better than being alone, even in the unlikely event he didn’t feel like talking.

“Nope. What about you? You doing okay?” Nick hummed, casually looking over your face, lit up only by the light of the moon, searching for any signs of distress or upset.

It seemed obvious to him that you wouldn't have come out here if you didn’t need or want something, but it also wasn’t like you to just show up out of the blue either, not without a reason.

Not in the middle of the night.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just not sure about this yet” you shrugged, doing your very best to keep calm. It freaked you out, and you couldn’t help but be upset. Though, you knew you didn’t need to try too hard to put it into words.

You never did with Nick.

No matter what you were feeling, he always understood where you were coming from.

There was silence for a few more moments, as you sat down on the porch steps. The wood was a bit cool when compared to the warmth of your blankets, but it didn’t bother you. Even after the scorching sun had faded away, some of its warmth remained.

“Yeah, I know the feeling” the male agreed, sitting down beside you with a small huff, exhaling the breath of his cigarette into the air around you.

On anyone else, it may have been unwelcome but after all this time, it was a scent you had grown to associate with Nick.

At times like this, you weren’t above admitting that it made you feel a bit safer than you would have without it, like a security blanket.

“What about you? What’s on your mind? You wouldn’t be up if something wasn’t bothering you” you asked, speaking softly to keep from waking anyone else up.

You recognized that look on his face.

It was the look that you’d all worn at one point or another during all of this and even in the dim moonlight, it was clear as day. You couldn’t have missed it even if you tried, because that was what this living nightmare did to people.

It was unavoidable, even for someone like Nick.

“Just like you said, couldn’t sleep, plus I needed a smoke” he shrugged again, not really ready to get into the whole existential crisis thing with you in the middle of the night.

Not that you were ready to just blindly accept that either.

The truth was, it was clear that Nick wasn’t telling you everything, which was odd for him.

The two of you had never really had trouble communicating with one another. If anything, you had a sort of silent understanding that you were on the same page, and you had never needed anything more than that.

…but tonight, you needed more.

Tonight, you needed to know he was here, and that he wasn’t going anywhere. Really, all you wanted to hear was his voice, and it wouldn’t matter what he said.

As long as he was talking.

“Tell me” you prompted, hoping that by some miracle, Nick could somehow drown out the noise in your head, even if for just a moment. “Talk to me”

That was all it took.

For Nick, permission to take up space was all he needed, and as soon as he had it, you found just a bit of the solace you’d been searching for.

“It’s the dark, right? It makes it all worse, feels like the ground could fall out from under you at any second,” he decided, more smoke billowing from between his lips and dissipating somewhere above you both.

You could only nod in reply, not even attempting to come up with some kind of response. That was it.

You already felt out of place here, like a fish out of water, but in the dark, you felt powerless.

“Like you’re all alone in the world, and everything is out to get you the moment you close your eyes” you allowed, recalling the way it made you feel, each and every night the sun fell from the sky.

For people like you and Nick, it had always been there, but now the rest of the world was feeling it too.

It really was over, and it was hard not to feel hopeless about it.

Normally, Nick didn’t know how to put the feelings into words, and he certainly didn’t want you to think he was too weak to handle what his mother seemed to consider a blessing. It was bad enough that she thought he was a burden, he couldn’t take it from you too.

…but, you got it. You had always seen him, for who he was, even when he didn’t know who that was.

This was a good thing.

This place, it was good for you to be here.

Realistically, he knew that, just as you did. Coming to terms with the benefit of living here wasn’t the hard part, it was actually doing it every day.

It was being able to do it without going out of your head.

“So, what are we supposed to do about it?” His words came all at once, a bit rough and just as pointed as always, though they died off softer than they normally would have on his lips.

There had to be something you could do, something that you both could do to make this whole thing a little easier.

Right?

Eventually, you were bound to get used to this and you were sure you would, but in the meantime, you still needed to sleep.

Navigating this world, dead on your feet, would only make everything worse.

“I don’t know. I guess we live…as hard as it is” you decided, taking the cigarette as he offered it now, letting the smoke warm you from the inside out.

It was weak, a bandage at best, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if it was a lie or was far-fetched; it was the best you could do and it would have to do.

For now.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be alright overnight”

There was a finality in Nick’s voice then, something that told you everything you needed to know. Even though he hadn’t actually vocalized every bit of what he was thinking, you didn’t need him to.

You were going to be okay because he thought you would.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it” you agreed, after just a moment to think about what you wanted to say. If nothing else, at least you could believe in that.

Whatever this world threw at you, you knew Nick would be there through it all.

Nick sighed, a small “yeah” leaving his lips as he took another long drag of the cigarette, too lost in thought to give you much more than that. You didn’t mind, letting your head rest on his shoulder, his rhythmic breaths calming you.

In and out, over and over again…never stopping.

Neither of you moved from that place for a while, only shifting when the temperature started dropping below the point of comfort. Both of you were dressed for sleep, not for the early morning chill.

“We should probably head back in” he whispered, bumping you with that same shoulder you’d been resting against, jostling you slightly. “Tomorrow’s another day”

You nodded but didn’t move even then, choosing to instead watch as Nick took what was left of the cig from his lips and dropped it, before standing up and heading toward the door.

It stayed where it landed, the embers burning away for a moment before fading out completely against the dirt.

“You coming?” You didn’t even realize you’d been staring at it until Nick’s voice shook you from the trance, back from where he was standing, waiting for you.

There was another beat between you, but this time, the silence wasn’t born of anything tense or unsure. Now, Nick was just waiting, watching you like the two of you had all the time in the world.

Which, at this moment, you did.

Life was already fragile, to begin with, but now, death was as common as breathing. So, there was no reason to waste a second.

No reason not to admire one another from time to time, and certainly no reason to chase sleep alone, in the dead of night.

“Will you stay with me?”

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, still cautious of the late hour and surrounding families, but it wasn’t timid by any means.

Nick knew you, and you knew him.

You weren’t a couple of school kids with a crush, not Romeo and Juliet on opposite sides of a war.  You were just two people who enjoyed one another’s company, and with the world, as it was, you didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.

Thankfully, neither did Nick.

He had never been one to ignore his base impulses, and the moment you extended the invitation, he agreed with a nod.

So, as quietly as you could, both you and Nick stepped back into the cabin. Your bunks were all relatively close together, which was nice, but they weren’t exactly made for more than one person.

Not that that was going to stop you. If anything, it meant you had to get a little creative, which was almost second nature by this point.

You grinned to yourself as you figured out the solution to your little problem and yanked the blankets from your bunk onto the floor, following them up with Nick’s own bedding.

It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind and the muffled chuckle from the man at your back told you that he didn’t either.

It was kind of perfect if you were being honest.

Nick snuggled in first, opening his arm to create a space for you at his side, which you took as carefully as you could. This would all be pretty difficult to explain if you woke up Madison right now.

“Comfy?” Nick cooed, his warm breath fanning your face due to the sheer proximity of your two bodies after you’d had a second to get settled.

“Actually, I think am” you decided, once again nuzzling into his side, the pattern of his breath lulling you into peace.

In and out, over and over again.

Never stopping.

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