strategy.

she is waiting to regret it,  waiting to retreat and brush it off.  she knows herself,  knows how hard it is to accept that she feels something so vulnerable and is willing to share it.  but as valerie insists on staying,  she finds herself not wanting to correct herself.  she wants to just have this moment,  because she knows they both desperately need it.  closing her eyes,  she nods once,  then leans her forehead against hers.  “it’s just  ...   it’s easier this way,”  she admits,  eyes opening to peek up at her,  hoping she feels the same.

she knows that may be true,  but she can’t find any faith in it.  she feels guilty for it now.  she didn’t before things changed  ----  before they left the ark,  even before they entered the bunker.  she didn’t feel guilty for resenting him because it felt justified.  but now,  after watching so many people she knows lose their family to this world,  and knowing how lucky she should be that this tie to who she is,  is still here?  why can’t she just be grateful?  she feels like she should be,  yet it’s all so confusing to her.  “maybe,”  she mumbles,  taking a deep breath and shrugging her shoulders.  “but don’t you think i should be trying?  that’s what i think.  i should be trying to make it work,  because he’s here.  we’re both here.”  most people aren’t that lucky.  but she scoffs,  head shaking.  “i wish he was.” 

lips part and a soft sigh falls from her lips.  there’s something devastating about those words.  on the ark,  she’s right  ——  val and greta were a steady,  stable relationship that made sense.  they relied on each other and greta wasn’t afraid to admit to that then.  but now,  so much was different.  so much was harder. so much was forced to keep to themselves,  because that felt like the only way to survive.  ❝  i don’t know if  ‘ steady ‘ is the word to use for us anymore,  ❞  she admits, eyes averting to the ground.  ❝  ——-  i wish it was,  ❞  she mumbles,  finding it easier to admit to erin than val herself.  ❝  it would make everything easier.  she makes everything easier.  ❞

her face remains stoic  ----  until she spots the small smile on erin’s features.  there’s something about her that brings a warmth to greta,  like she is someone she can trust.  so instead of keeping the tension in her shoulders,  she relaxes slightly,  features softening as she lets out a sigh.  ❝  sometimes,  ❞   she mumbles,  lightening up only slightly.  but as she goes on,  as she mentions  ‘ her,  ‘  greta’s eyes shoot back over to hers.  ❝  what - ----  ? ❞   she blurts,  eyes closing briefly as she lets out a small huff.  was she that noticeable?  that easy to read?  of course she was,  but greta liked to believe she was at least somewhat more subtle.  ❝  no,  i  -----  there’s nothing to say.  ❞   there’s plenty to say,  it’s just that she doesn’t know HOW to say it,  or if she should.  

isn’t greta supposed to be lucky?  most people her age,  their parents aren’t here  ----  either having been floated on the ark,  lost in the journey to earth,  or left outside the bunker’s doors before praimfaya.  her father is still here,  still healthy,  still present,  still valuable  ---  she has a family while most people don’t,  and she finds it so difficult to be grateful.  it’s something she wants to work out,  yet she’s too stubborn to ever follow through.  ❝  yeah.  parents suck.  but  ----  ❞   she sighs,  finger running through her hair as she looks up at her.  ❝  i know i shouldn’t be so harsh to him.  it’s  ----  it’s stupid now.  ❞  right?  her resentment towards him feels invalid given everything everyone’s been through;  she feels like she’s not allowed to feel what she feels.  

with a huff,  she rolls her eyes.  ❝  oh,  like what?  ❞  raise of her voice is dangerous;  anyone could come check in on them,  anyone could assume the WORST of what’s happening in here.  so easily,  they could find themselves in trouble,  but greta is too stubborn to think rationally in the moment - ----  too focused on the argument at hand.  though,  they never seem to last long.  the two always find their way out of arguments before they go too far,  and that’s what she’s looking for now.  ❝  i’m tired,  okay?   this place is too damn small for the both of us.  i don’t need to be scolded by you just for lookin’ for some peace and quiet.  ❞

but she feels like she is.  this isn’t the bunker anymore;  she can’t use the horror they face each day as an excuse to fall into valerie’s arms.  she can’t rely on that as easily anymore,  because if she tries,  they might actually have to face their problems now  ----  and she’s not sure she’s ready for that.  it’s not just val,  it’s her father.  it’s something greta has never been good at:  facing her problems head on and looking for a way to actually fix them.  instead,  she finds another strategy  /  she works AROUND them,  helping no one.  ❝  i don’t know,  ❞  she mumbles,  eyes refusing to meet hers.  ❝  feels like it.  ❞   with a small breath,  head tilts up to look at her,  and she shrugs her shoulders.  ❝  things aren’t the same here as they were down there.  ❞  down there,  in the bunker.   ❝  can’t be.  so  -----   maybe i should be. ❞

she prays and prays that valerie won’t pull away.  not because she so badly wants to be close to her again,  but because she knows that valerie needs this,  too.  she can see that she is struggling in here just as much  ------   and if they can’t TALK about it out loud,  at least they can pour their frustrations into something different,  something physical.   she wants this for the both of them  -----  something they can pour all their emotions into and feel something better in return,  something safer and more relaxing.  kissing her,  it has always made every fear and frustration and worry fall away from greta.  it has always felt like a safe place.  and this physical intimacy they have found within each other yet again,  that’s something so necessary in this bunker.  because everything feels so HARD,  so brutal  -----  and if they have one place to get away from that,  it can be within each other.  the arm around her waist pulls her in closer,  her own body pressing into hers,  wanting to feel entirely surrounded by her ex-girlfriend’s warmth.  as she kisses her back,  greta only works to deepen the kiss,  this desperate need so obvious in the passion behind the kiss.  her other hand moves within her hair,  grasping onto it lightly.  the hand on her back runs up and down it,  fingertips light in attempt to soothe her  ----- to make her feel safe.  

it’s late,  most people have headed back to their rooms by now,  leaving the rest of their chores for the next day.  it’s always a cycle,  a mindless routine they must follow for five years as they’re locked inside this bunker until the ground is survivable again.  it used to just be something they had to deal with,  but now,  it’s something that haunts them.  what they have to resort to now in order to survive the next year until the plants are healthy again is something that terrifies greta  -----  and all the while,  she feels responsible.  it’s not her fault that the plants had gotten so bad.  maybe it’s no one’s,  yet the fact that she couldn’t stop it makes her feel like it is anyway.   so she’s here,  late at night,  cleaning up the farm as if that’s going to make anything better.  nothing will now.   ❝ i do, ❞  she insists without looking up.   jordan is a source of comfort for her,  someone familiar  ----  and not even that can make her feel any better now.  ❝  someone has to.   it’s not like i have anything else to do.  ❞   she could be with val,  but that’s harder right now.  she’s scared,  because she worries that val is looking at her and only seeing what they’re being forced to eat to survive.  even if greta isn’t the one in charge of prepping the meals,  she’s there  -----  she’s helping,  because that’s her duty,  and that makes her feel like she isn’t worthy of being around the one person who makes her feel safe.

feeling her hand hold onto hers is all the validation greta needs to go about this the way that she wants  (  and the way she thinks valerie wants,  too  -----  despite the fact that neither of them are good at saying that out loud.  )   that’s what works for them,  at least for now  -----  they never actually talk about what they’re doing.  they just do it,  because in the moment,  it’s what they desperately need.  but once they’re out of it,  they’re too stubborn to wish for it again.  vulnerability has never worked for greta,  yet it’s all she feels these days  ----  and when she can count on these simple moments between her and valerie,  she can breathe a lot easier.   her eyes scan her features,  and once she spots the small hint of a smile,  it relaxes her.   she takes a beat,  then leans forward,  burying her head in the crook of val’s next,  so desperately needing the safety of her body.  lips press lightly to her skin  -----  three kisses,  each soft and slow,  until she raises her head again,  forehead rested on hers.  i couldn’t wait to see you,  is what her eyes say without speaking the words.   i missed you,  is what she wants to say even more.  ❝  you tired?  ❞  the obvious answer is yes,  but greta hopes it’s not too much;  she hopes she still has time with her before they sleep.  

it’s the middle of the night,  the bunker has gone silent,  and it’s just the two of them wrapped inside this blanket in valerie’s small bed.  greta doesn’t remember when her arms had made their way around val’s and brought her closer,  but she doesn’t want to pull away,  either.  bare legs are intertwined,  her hand holding onto her shoulder,  and they’re closer than they have been in a while.  it’s something she wants but doesn’t know how to ask for.  it’s something she needs but doesn’t think she deserves.  being with valerie is the one thing that’s ever made her feel sane,  and admitting to that makes greta feel like she is weak.  it’s been a long time since they broke up on the ark,  but greta never really felt like that meant they were OVER.  things were just messy,  confusing,  chaotic  -----  it didn’t mean she stopped loving her.  sharing a bed for familiarity was bound to lead to something like this;  they could pretend it was platonic,  they could pretend it was just out of comfort,  but something always brought them back to one another.  and when valerie started to lean in,  greta found herself RELIEVED that it didn’t have to be her to make the first move  ----  until val stopped herself.  her hand moves between them,  fingertips lightly brushing her cheek and pushing hair out of the way.  ❝  no,  ❞   she mumbles.  ❝  it’s okay.  ❞   it’s okay that they do this.  it’s okay that they let themselves have this.  greta needs to hear that just as much.  ❝  this is all we have right now,  ❞   she reminds her in a whisper.  and pushing down any worries about it,  she does what val couldn’t,  leaning forward and pressing her lips against valerie’s.   

her body moves slowly as she heads into their shared room.  no one else is around and that’s relieving  -----   when she feels like this,  so exhausted and vulnerable and alone,  there is only one person she wants to be around,  even if she’s not entirely sure they SHOULD be around each other the way they have been.  but she doesn’t know another way,  not after all that’s happened,  not after what they’re going through now.  the bunker is a DARK place,  one that forces people to lean on another.  as she falls down on the bed next to valerie,  she finds her one safe place.   she doesn’t say anything at first.  instead,  hand reaches to pull the ponytail from her hair,  tired feet kick off the boots,  and then she brings her hand over to rest on val’s wrist.   hand slides down until fingers can intertwine with hers,  and instantly,  a sigh of relief falls from her lips  (  that desperate need for the touch of someone she loves,  even if she can’t say that out loud.  )   after a long moment,  she turns on her side to finally look back at her,  messy hair falling against her shoulders.  ❝  another day,  ❞   she mumbles the victory.  they survived another day.