ft. bastian rivas fredrick.
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Searching for supplies had become second nature after all their time on the run. There had been a time when rummaging through homes that had once belonged to real people who may one day return didn’t sit quite right with him. Bastian had spent too much time thinking that things would go back to normal, that this infection would blow over, that whatever was happening wasn’t going to last.
He had been forced to learn the hard way that the world they were now living in was a constant battle between life and death.
But even now, given that the hospital was already well stocked, Bastian felt this need to keep searching. Perhaps what he was looking for these days wasn’t just supplies, but the missing pieces of the life he’d once had. He didn’t know how to admit that to himself yet, though - for fear of what the results might be.
His attention hadn’t been entirely focused on his surroundings, so when the voice spoke up he startled just a bit. Stumbling into the dead he had gotten accustomed to, he would usually hear them coming. But the living were far trickier. His hand slipped towards the knife he had tucked away, not even prepared for a threat - but thankfully the young blonde that came into his view didn’t seem overly threatening. No; instead, there was a warning on her tongue.
Letting his gaze shift over in the direction she’d indicated, he gave a subtle nod. “I appreciate the warning.” It was only then that he gave her a once over. The way she stood, the breathlessness to her warning - it seemed she hadn’t just spotted these issues from afar.
“Are you alright?”
dylan doesn’t have enough self-control to stop her eyes from flicking to the movement of his hand. there’s a rigidness that suddenly sits tight across her shoulders, face draining of color. like a map, she remembers the countless waving pathways back to the library and which one would give her an escape. if she were lucky, he’d pull a knife --- yet luck hadn’t been on her side today if the fall had been any indication.
yet the attack never comes.
instead, there’s gratitude, such an uncommon occurrence that dylan is shocked into silence for a small beat. a small laugh leaves her, one shoulder rising stiffly in a light shrug. ❝ let’s just say i found out the floor was unstable the hard way. ❞















