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Emily had scared him, she could see that. He had handed him the sword, did he not want her to use it? She scrambled up the steps as fast as her legs would allow. He was following her, and she knew he could have easily passed her.
She paused a moment and heard nothing from behind that door. It gave her hope, but they had to keep going, one more flight, and she could hear the corpses coming up the steps.
Emily glanced at him and kept going, she didn't hesitate, but yanked open the door to the fifth floor. No corpse was waiting, not until she stepped into the hallway. Emily froze. It was her mother. Her face was torn up, and she looked horrible, but Emily would know her any where. She said the word mother in Chinese and stumbled backwards.
She held the sword but could do nothing as the dead woman stumbled towards her. Another corpse down the hall came ambling out from a doorway, and another. Her neighbors, those who had banded with her parents. People she had known her whole life.
Emily was powerless, frozen. She couldn't do it. It wasn't fair.
He plunged his knife into her mothers skull. Pulling out the blade he'd catch her mom before the woman fell, lowering her to the ground gently. With respect. He didn't look at Em, knowing that this kind of sudden, abrasive shock would be somewhat damaging to the mind. He'd turn his back and step over the woman's body, raising his gun and walking toward the neighbors.
He let out a slow, deep breath as things seemed to be moving through molasses. He pulled the trigger twice, at the two closest, while kicking open the door to a house and stepping inside. Assuming their were Z's in there he'd blast it or them in the head while walking forward. Then he'd turn around and fire on the neighbors.
The noise would draw them all toward him, and he'd use the front doors as a sort of bottleneck to stab and shoot, blocking up the doorway while he took them down.
He stabbed her mother in the head and Emily made a strangled sound. She watched this all in horror. She drifted down to the floor, against the wall. She stared, couldn't stop watching as the corpses attacked him.
Not many, but she knew them all, each and every one. She sat, arms wrapped around her legs, that were drawn up to her chest. The blade laying at her side. She looked up as he came back.
Her eyes were distant , like she wasn't there, not really. It took a few moments, but she would again find her resolve and be back to her stoic expression. Emily lifted her hand for him to help her up. She didn't hate him. It had to be done, or they would have killed them. Gore covered his shirt, and she couldn't look at him.
"Last door, right." She pointed and started walking. She looked straight ahead, not able to look at the bodies on the floor. The place reeked, closed up rotting flesh had taken it's toll. She lifted her hand to cover her nose and mouth, as she tried the knob of hr apartment. It didn't turn and she was suddenly hopeful. She knocked, "Kiro, Kiro, it's me." She didn't have a key, and looked at Allen, "I..don't have a key."
Allen would reach down and help her up. He'd give her a hug if they hadn't just met. If she didn't think it would be weird. He'd search her eyes.
"You okay?"
Despite everything he'd just done, he did what he had to. He'd prepared himself for it. He'd even prepared himself....in case he had to do it to his own siblings. Still, he'd follow her toward the door as she tried the lock. He let out a low hum before turning and jogging back over to her mom. He'd crouch and search her, trying to find a key. Pulling it from the woman's pocket in a "EUREKA!" moment, he'd turn back and walk it over to her, putting it in her hand. He'd clear his throat.
"Could be your mom turned first and your dad locked it. Just....be ready, in case he's there too."
Emily took the key out of his hand, and looked at him. "I..am fine." Her hand lingered for a moment in his, and then she took the key. Her eyes drifted from his. those eyes of his. It was like he was looking into her soul.
She heard his words and swallowed. It was a scary thought. Her hand trembled just a bit.She gripped the knob and slipped in the key , turning it. She pushed the door open and heard nothing, silence. The air was musky and thick inside, and she stepped in, slowly. It looked just like she remembered. She moved step by step further inside, and nothing. Silence filled the air.
She turned and looked at Allen, and for the first time in weeks, months, she wasn't able to keep her stoic expression. Her lip trembled and she lifted her hands and dropped the sword to the floor. She was about to ball, and turned away. She rushed through the house, heading for her room. She couldn't let him see her fall apart.
Allen would remove the key, step inside and lock the door behind him as he shut it. Leaning backward against the door, he watched her with a furrowed brow. His worried expression turned to slight shock as she took off running- she seemed so composed from the instant he met her....watching her break down was a little unnerving. Yet, it was also entirely understandable. He'd lurch forward to try and take her hand at the wrist and pull her back lightly as he moved forward.
And, whether she felt it was weird or not, he'd pull her into a hug.
"Hey....it's okay."
His hands would gently rub her back, the larger male staring off into the house in an attempt to look for any Zombies that may be lurking. Judging from the musty smell of the home though, her mom had probably closed and locked it just for this reason. To keep their stuff safe. He'd hold her for as long as she let him- though if she tried to run regardless he'd let her.
"I'm sorry...shh......"
Listening from the door he heard nothing, pleased he'd killed all the Z's. And from the sound of it the others were still locked in the stairwell. He'd speak to try and take her mind off things, assuming she was still there.
"We can...stay a while, if you want. Then we'll leave when you're ready."
Emily felt him grab her wrist and spin her back towards him. He meant to hug her, and for a moment, she was going to allow it. Her eyes fell on his shirt and she held her hands up. He crushed her against him, and was doing his best to comfort her. It would have been readily accepted if he wasn't holding her against the gore left from her dead neighbors and mother.
Emily squirmed and pulled back from him, "your shirt, I can't' she shook her head and turned away from him. She hit a light switch and nothing, habit, she guessed. She knew better. She wiped her eyes, and moved through the apartment. She found a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out flashlights, setting the down on the counter. She opened several cabinets and set up a couple oil lamps, 'We have stuff here, we can use." She opened a pantry and grabbed out a jar of peanut butter. She was still crying and more or less in a frenzy of sorts.
Emily scrambled around the place, tossing out items left and right, trying to distract herself.
Allen glanced down. Pulling off his shirt, he used it to wipe his face and arms off before opening his pack. He removed another, one with Captain America on the front. He'd stand back up and walk over to her, gently putting a hand on her back. He wasn't really sure how to handle situations like this- after two years, his social skills were more than lacking.
"Hey. Hey stop. Stop."
He'd try to help her stand straight so he could look at her. Holding her shoulders, his hands (now clean as well from the wipe down) would gently cup her cheeks.
"Stop. It's okay to be in shock and slow down. Come and sit."
He'd try to lead her toward the couch to sit down, having also removed the bandana and stuck it in his pack.
Emily felt his hand on her back and stopped. She looked at him and shook her head. She stopped, and stared at him. Where was his shirt? She couldn't help it. Her eyes ran from his hair down to his waist before she went back up.
She felt him lead her away from the closet she was bent over into, and didn't fight him. She sat and stared at him. It was okay, he said. He wanted her to stop. "But we have to get things, to fight to live." She was stammering, fighting so hard to not break down in front of him.
Emily looked around, and the tears started to fall, 'I was so sure, he would be here, waiting." She felt tear drops slip over her drip down her cheeks. She brought a trembling hand up and wiped them with her fingers. "I'm sorry." She glanced at him, and slowly, without thinking, she curled up on the couch, her body next to his, head leaning on his shoulder. "It's safe here, for now." She spoke softly and then listened to the silence and his breaths.
He nodded, and though most people probably were unnerved by it, he kept his gaze locked on hers. There was some comfort, he knew, in having that attention. In knowing someone was not just there because they had to, but because they actually wanted to listen. He let out a low hum as she leaned against him. Once again, his heart pounded in his chest.
Then a thought struck him. Then another. He blinked. Hot water would definitely be here with how apartments were constructed. Temporarily here, anyway. With no electricity to constantly heat the water, the pilot light would have gone out. If he relit it...they'd have maybe twenty minutes of fresh, warm water. But...taking one alone would hardly get all the grime and gunk off. He blushed deeply. Was he about to....to...suggest...? He didn't want her to think poorly of him. And she could always say no.
"So listen. If I reheat the pilot light under the water heater....we could each maybe take a five to ten minute shower. Or....if we piled in, get the full twenty. And...I could always keep my eyes closed, I swear I'm not trying to be a perv."
He looked down at her despite his embarrassment, giving a clearly uneasy chuckle.
Last Edit: Apr 18, 2016 19:06:47 GMT -5 by Deleted
Emily could hear his heart beat in his chest. It suddenly started hammering, and she picked her head up. He spoke to her and explained his thought process. She listened and then glanced around.
Her eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything. Not at first. He was really suggesting this. She couldn't believe it. Her father would have killed him if he were alive. First of all he was a white boy, second he didn't seem like the Harvard or Yale type. Both would score him as untouchable.
Emily actually found herself smiling at him. She could see the blush to his cheeks, "alright, we can keep out underwear on , if you're nervous about it." Honestly, it didn't bother her. Enough men had seen her naked, what did it matter? She suddenly realized, she liked this guy. Allen. He was kind, a good guy, well, so far. She leaned back and swung her legs off the couch. She grinned for a moment, taking a bit of perverse pleasure in doing something like this in her parents home.
Emily stood in the kitchen, opening cans of food. She found a box of unopened crackers, and set them back down. She turned as he came in, and chuckled."Well...they fit, right? little snug." She held out a spoon for him, "Hope you like fruit." She smiled at him and the flickering oil lamp gave her face a soft light. "So, we stay here, for the night, at least?" She glanced around, and then walked to the pantry, and took out a can of juice. Pineapple. She opened it and drank some.
Emily heard her stomach growl and sighed. She was starving, but didn't really want to eat. She grabbed a box and took out wrapped bar from it. "I don't know if the stove would work, we have canned soup and things, ramen noodles in there too. " She pulled out a chair and sat at the table. She didn't know what to say. What do you say after that? She thought it best to just eat, not talk about it.
He grinned as he walked around the corner and heard her question.
"I suppose we have worked up quite the appetite, eh?"
Allen had a different perspective. If you pretend something didn't happen, then it would be way awkward and possibly cause a rift. He made light of it, indicating that it happened and that he was entirely okay with it. Losing ones virginity was a powerfully amazing experience, especially when it was with someone old enough to make that conscious decision. He would think for a moment, looking at the boarded windows with the setting son and giving a little nod.
"Probably best. The Z's will be more aware at night, so staying in a safe location is preferred."
He'd roll up his sleeves, coming up along side her and looking about. She wanted to cook, clearly, and was trying to stay distracted from having just...y'know. Done it. In her parents old (and surprisingly sturdy) house. He'd clear his throat as a blush crept up his neck at the thought and remembrance in both sensation and connection.
Emily wasn't sure what he could do. She glanced up at him and stood up," alright, um," she went over and got out a saucepan," you can add water to that and check to see if we can light the stove." She chuckled softly," probably should check that first." She went to the pantry and pulled out a couple cans of soup. A hot meal sounded like heaven to her. It had been awhile.
This whole thing felt strange to her. Like playing house. She looked at him," I'm gonna go put on some clothes, then I'll be right back." She slipped down the hall to her room. She stood for a few moments in her room, taking it all in. She found it so odd, to feel like a stranger in what had been her personal space. Pictures lined her mirror and she pulled some down. Her with friends, her with her parents and one of her with Kiro.
Emily stared at them for a few moments, then got a pair of yoga pants and a tee shirt from a drawer, slipping them on. She left the pictures laying on her dresser and went back to the kitchen." Does it work?"
Shauna Kelly: That helped, thank you
Oct 4, 2021 14:40:44 GMT -5
Ayita Hunt: dang, January was my last post.. Jeez it's been a hot minute. o7 guys, sorry for the complete disappearance, life got.. a little interesting this year.
Oct 18, 2021 22:34:19 GMT -5