Cece

Foggy weather, murky skies, the coastal breeze leaving goosebumps behind on your skin. The air is heavy, faint smell of ocean. Dragging your feet through the path, trees distant yet too close, you repeat to yourself the details disclosed to you during a trade. You had asked around for her desperately, devoting the rest of your days to finding her. Since chaos had broken out in Seattle, you were torn from her, leaving you with only the distant memories of what you had. Countless settlements, groups, interactions passed, all leaving you with less and less hope, though unsure of her survival, it would be shameful to give up on the girl you had committed to loving. What seemed like a lost cause was the only thing you could focus yourself on.

Santa Barbara was peaceful, almost too still. Beautiful Spanish-style homes littered the horizon. The humidity didn’t help regulate the heat, hours of walking building up. How long has it been since you’ve rested, taken a break at all? You don’t know or care, now that you’ve finally made it, you’re not stopping until you find her. You can feel your clothes clinging to you, sweat dripping down your body, the feeling of sunburns forming on your skin becoming unbearable. The exhaustion finally setting in, there are various structures nearby, but none seem welcoming. As the afternoon begins to fade away you become even more desperate to find shelter, spending the night out on the streets is completely undesirable.

Unsure of where you’re headed, what path to take, no plan, no way of finding her. Trying not to panic you reassure yourself, you replay all the supposed sightings of her reported to you through trades, sometimes intimidation. You eventually caught wind of someone too similar to be coincidence; described like she usually would be, an ox, barbaric, blonde, this had to be her. All other leads led to dead ends, this time, you heard she had been accompanied by a younger boy, this is what made this time different. There couldn’t possibly be someone else who’d fit this exact bc description—could there? You try not to think too hard about what situation she got herself into. This area isn’t necessarily the best… you’ve had your encounters with the group around here—rattlers. Surely, Abby could take them on easy. That’s what you choose to believe anyways.

You quicken your pace, refusing to waste any more time than you already have. Your head had begum pounding along with your heart, nerves building up, anxious to finally arrive at your destination. Your mind constantly replaying memories you shared with her, her face, everything that had been stripped from you. Saying you missed her was an understatement, your world was gone, now you were set to do everything in your power to get it back. Determined, you keep walking, fatigue washing over you—not that it mattered, nothing did anymore. Throughout the dirt, dents—what could be made out to be footprints, caught your eye for a second. Maybe she could’ve gone through here too, but maybe they were someone else’s, maybe they weren’t even footprints. All these maybes meant nothing anymore, relying on luck to find her didn’t get your hopes up like it used to, you’re almost running out of faith. Nothing besides consistency was going to get you to her.

The sun is now lower on the horizon, the world around you turned into a burnt gold. Maybe you’d take some time to admire it if you could shift your focus onto something else besides recovering your other half. You can make out some sort of base, or compound nearby. As you near it, barbed wire and tall walls lining the perimeter. This place looks familiar, resembling other smaller bases you’ve based. It must been the rattlers’. Hoping it’s their main base, you walk around the outside, searching for a way in, clues as to what occurs inside.

You find the entrance gate, standing just a few feet away, you see a cluster of guards—not exactly guarding anything. Those cocky assholes don’t even bother doing their jobs, being so used to running shit. After a while they begin to disperse, allowing you an opportunity to corner one of them. Sneaking up behind him, bringing your blade right under his jaw. You drag him around a corner, hiding the two of you away from his companions.

“I’m looking for someone. A woman, she’s tall, blonde, muscular. Traveling with a kid too.” You say barely above a whisper, directly into his ear. You apply more pressure onto the area as he squirms under your grip. “Don’t try anything funny with me, I’ve taken on plenty of you”.

“Listen, I haven’t seen anything, now I—“ you cut him off, patience running thin each second. The area you pressed began turning red, raising around the blade.

“Stop fucking with me, I know she was here. Just tell me where the fuck she is.” He raises his hands up in surrender, his body tenses up, though now less resistant.

“Okay, okay—I’ll tell you, please. Just relax.” He’s begun to sweat, causing the blade to slip slightly, cutting deeper into his skin. He winces at the scraping, body jolting backwards. You almost stumble with him, thankfully you ground yourself in time. “She isn’t here anymore, some girl came through here a few weeks ago. She let all of our captives free. I promise”

You feel your heart sink to your stomach. “Where did you keep her?” You demand, feeling defeated. The grip on your blade loosening, knees beginning to give out.

“Down at the pillars.” He notices the change in your demeanor. Taking the opportunity, he tries to force his way out of your arms. Taken aback, you let your instincts take over. The blade swiping across his skin, blood pouring down to his chest. He falls forward, gurgling.

Though you know you won’t find her here, you make your way towards the back of the surrounding area. You feel your stomach twisting in knots, sweat coming down even faster. Atleast you know she was here, she’s real, she’s alive. Even if you never cross paths again, the thought of her continuing her life was enough for you rest for a least another night.

Upon reaching the pillars, you stumble down the unsteady steps, tripping over your own feet. Feet hitting the stand, you keep your eye out for her, selfishly hoping she’s still here, maybe even waiting for your arrival. There’s nothing of her left behind but that bastard’s words. You look out towards the beach. Deciding to continue your search there. Finally, after days, you let yourself stop moving. You fall into the sand, looking out into the dark skyline. Sobs spill out of you, body shaking with each breath. Your face buried into your knees, nails digging into your skin. You’ve gotten so close to her, but still too far to even make out a glimpse of her, have solid proof of her arrival.

Unsure of what to do next, you remain there. Unmoving, unthinking.

Your motives haven’t changed.

You’ll find her, you’ll find Abby.

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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Abby’s insecure as hell, needs constant reassurance from you as her girlfriend. She can’t even wrap her head around the idea of someone being able to love her. How could a girl like you even be curious about her? As hard as she looks, she’s a total sweetheart…poor thing.

When she has to sit there and watch you converse with someone who soo obviously wants you, she finds it hard to keep her composure—it’s torture really. Trying to soothe herself, her hands find their way over your thighs, hands, waist, doesn’t matter—she needs to feel you in order to ground herself. She doesn’t mean to get jealous, feels guilty about it even. But it’s s impossible not to you when you’re just so perfect.

Good thing she’s adorable when she’s all whiny and pouty for you. You know you shouldn’t find amusement in your girlfriend’s jealously…but who wouldn’t get turned on at a sight like that?? She makes it so painfully obvious just how much she wants needs you—the way she looks at you, desperate, tries to be subtle about how bad she wants you, never works though. Admitting it is the last thing she’d do, unless she’s extra desperate, like now.

Now, snuggling up in bed, she presses her body against your back, breath tickling the back of your neck. Hands toying with the hem of your shirt, fingers sneaking under your waistband. She’s been silent the entire time, making noise only through her sighs and heavy breathing. She doesn’t say anything, avoiding conflict—but she could never hide a pout, chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks flushed. You try turning around to comfort her, she doesn’t let you—can’t let you see how worked up and vulnerable she is. Respecting her wishes, you pretend to not notice the increase in her antsy-ness, frustration building up.

Her touch remains restless, her desperation showing. You contemplate speaking up, it hurts to know your girlfriend is feeling so down. You lean back into her, pressing your hips into hers—Abby pulls your hips closer, restricting your movement further.

“Abbs…” finally speaking up, awkward silence follows, she flinches as the sudden disruption. You notice, regretting your decision—maybe you should’ve just let her relax. Despite this, you decide to finish your thought, turning around slightly…

Abby butts in before you can continue, “Don’t look at me”, barely above a whisper, she’s still defensive. She rests her head against you, just enough for you to feel her pout.

You ease back into her, rubbing circles around her wrist. She exhales shakily, breaths becoming unsteady, she tries to stay quiet—this makes your heart ache, all you want to do is take care of your girl. She makes that almost impossible, refusing attention from you, choosing to crumble alone, out of your sight. You let her have what she wants, you let her find comfort in your warmth, clinging to you.

“I hate how I get…I feel so stupid”, Abby breaks through the silence, unusual during times like this. She finally allows you to turn around, burying her head in your chest immediately your shirt balled up in her fist. You can feel the dampness her eyes on your skin, bringing up your hand to cup her cheek, you swipe your thumb under her eyes, cleaning up her tears.

“Baby—don’t be like that, you’re okay. There’s nothing to worry about, I’m yours, all yours.”, nothing worse than not being able to ease her worries, if what Abby needed was to hold onto you, then that’s exactly what you would give her, until the end of time if you had to. ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

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You and Abby both share a dorm in college, by chance. Becoming close friends throughout the year, learning more about each other’s bodies. Nothing about your relationship is inherently romantic, besides all those times you’ve caught her staring and vice versa, as well as the small, subtle touches. You’ve always felt like the line between friends and something more is a little more blurred than in most friendships. A small crush couldn’t possibly hurt your friendship that badly, right?

You can’t help but notice her physique, it’s impossible to miss. Abby is anything but small. The way her clothes fit her, hugging her in just the right places, highlighting her figure. Abby’s hot. Wayy too hot to remain just friends. But what are you supposed to do?

You’ve been friends all this time, it’s not like you can just go up to her and ask her out…“Hey Abby, I know we’re super close friends, but I reallyy want to fuck you.”, It’s an incredibly stupid idea. That’s why you need to focus on yourself, not her or her stupidly charming smile, big strong hands, or her stomach when her shirt rides up just the teeniest amount while stretching.

How hard can it be to maintain a friendship with the hottest girl on campus, especially when she’s only at arms reach? You can tell yourself to back off all you want, but deep down you know, you want need to fuck Abby Anderson.

“Hey…Abby?” Redirecting her attention during her study sessions is off limits, according to Abby, she needs all the seconds she can get, which is stupid, everything comes naturally to her.

Abby sighs, takes a pause to look up at you then back down at her notebook. “What’s the matter now? You’ve already called me like a million times since I’ve sat down.”, Obviously annoyed, Abby still finds time to cater to your needs.

“I know, I'm sorry, it’s just—I really need to talk to you about last night”, after all this time, you haven’t been able to bring uo to Abby the real reason you’ve been pestering her. “I know I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it, but I’ve been thinking about it and it’s been fucking with me.” Nervously playing with your hair, you wait for Abby to react. She keeps herself collected, as usual, right now, it doesn’t exactly soothe you as a normally would. Abby’s silence bothers you, as if she’s ignoring you. You contemplate calling out her again, before she readjusts herself to face you.

She drops what she’s doing, now focused on the conversation you opened up. Now staring up at you from her desk, Abby looks tense, like she’s bothered by your issue as well. Her hands sit gently on her lap, they look so fucking good, her legs spread—not too much, but enough for you to get a real good look at everything. “There’s not much to talk about, what happened, happened.”, all she gives you is a lazy response, pretending not to understand why you’ve brought this up.

Frustrated, you move off the bed and walk over to her desk. Now you’re staring right down at her. And her pretty little eyes, looking up at you, just the way she knows you like. You have to restrain yourself from giving in and throwing yourself all over her. “You didn’t forget what happened last night did you?” You lower your voice as if it’s a secret, not like it ever had a chance with all the noise you made. “Don’t you remember what we did?” You look around nervously, regretting mentioning this.

Abby scoffs, relaxing back into her chair a little more. “Of course, I remember, how could I forget? You were so noisy.”Abby says, mockingly, looking you up in down with a hint of amusement in her eye. Abby rests her elbows on the arms of the chair, swiveling a bit. “Why’d you wanna talk about this, what’s bothering you?”, She’s beginning to get what you’re hinting at, you want to establish a title, be more than just friends, as if you ever were.

“Abby, I— what are we? Are we just friends? Best friends? Something more?” Your embarrassment showing through your words, more so through your body language; you’re practically sweating, your body so hot Abby could probably feel the heat coming off of you from her chair. “I don’t wanna push anything on you, I’m just confused. I don’t mean to overstep or anything. I totally get it if you just wanna be casual. But don’t you think it’s weird to, you know, fuck your friends?” Now you’re just begging Abby to give you some reassurance, that she wasn’t using you, she meant all of the things she’d whispered in your ear. You wanted her to mean all of it.

She reaches out for your waist, with one hand, rubbing circles with her thumb and the other pressing against your lower back, just above your ass. “Why are you so stressed about this, I like fucking you…but if you dont feel the same way then…” she rolls her eyes, “who am I kidding, I know you love it just as much as I do, moans never lie.” She says slyly, wearing her stupid smirk, Abby looks so fucking hot, when doesn’t she? It pisses you off. Why does she have to look like that? It’s annoying, how does she expect you to control yourself when that’s just what she looks like, never mind the physical touch…

“So what if I like to fuck my best friend? Didn’t hear you complain last night, so…just stop worrying about it. Besides, we weren’t ever gonna stay just friends, I think you know that.” She pulls you in, you’re now leaned over her, grabbing onto the arm rests. As she moves her hands up towards your hair, she grabs a fistful; pulling you down onto her mouth, sloppyily kissing you, your favorite way. You lean into it, arching your back as you moan out.

You couldn’t stop if you tried, Abby was right. You were never cut out to just be friends with her, you needed this.

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