Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2016 12:30:58 GMT -5
The group had finally arrived in California. Their new home was rather lush….rooms for the couples to be alone and plenty of space for everyone. It was all well and good….but Taylor was starting to get an itch….An itch to feel her heart in her throat again, to pop a few walkers in the head. Taylor had been quick to christen the new room, pulling Buster flush against herself where she stood against a wall. If there was one thing Buster could be depended on for it was that he was always down for fun. Night was drawing close but Taylor was antsy. She sat on the large bed with her fingers idly making shapes on Buster…her husband’s chest.
“Lets go do something….out there, all this reunion and happy stuff makes me wanna scream…” They were too alike for it to be funny, and at times like this it was definitely a plus. Everyone else was settling down into some sort of safety high and all Taylor wanted to get was have a smoke and stretch her legs. “C’mon baby….I think I’ve about killed your stash of smokes anyway….you don’t wanna see me with a nicotine headache…” She smirked and leaned in to kiss him before she hopped off the bed and slipped on some tight fitting jeans along with a simple black tank. No reason to wear her good clothes out there to get ruined.
She slipped on her boots and grabbed her pistol, hooking a small sheathed knife on the waistband of her jeans. She dumped her backpack in a small pile in the floor. Knowing she would have to clean it later but at that moment just ready to crawl out of her skin. “Lets go Mr.Fleetfoot.” She grinned and took off. Knowing Buster would be close behind.
“Lets go do something….out there, all this reunion and happy stuff makes me wanna scream…” They were too alike for it to be funny, and at times like this it was definitely a plus. Everyone else was settling down into some sort of safety high and all Taylor wanted to get was have a smoke and stretch her legs. “C’mon baby….I think I’ve about killed your stash of smokes anyway….you don’t wanna see me with a nicotine headache…” She smirked and leaned in to kiss him before she hopped off the bed and slipped on some tight fitting jeans along with a simple black tank. No reason to wear her good clothes out there to get ruined.
She slipped on her boots and grabbed her pistol, hooking a small sheathed knife on the waistband of her jeans. She dumped her backpack in a small pile in the floor. Knowing she would have to clean it later but at that moment just ready to crawl out of her skin. “Lets go Mr.Fleetfoot.” She grinned and took off. Knowing Buster would be close behind.