#bunker.

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.   

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.  ❞

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.

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.   

Paintball at DFW Adventure Park - King of the hill - 5 Kills and a Failed attempt to bunker. - AthleticDallas.com http://goo.gl/nbMiRT