ellie and abby tend to keep to themselves these days. when lev is out, the two of them are standoffish, crude, sniping comments and sarcasm back and forth in order to the silence as the three of them trudge forward chasing a whisper of a hint of a chance at there being something waiting for them.
when lev is asleep, when it’s just the two of them and the stale night air gets too heavy that’s when the claws come out. when names are spat with venom, when hands are balled into fists and accusations thrown back and forth with the only restraint being the boy sleeping one room over.
and sometimes, sometimes, when emotions get heated, when the two of them press too close, feel too overwhelmed that’s when they fall apart. hands scraping over scars, legs tangling for leverage as they topple into whatever makeshift bed they could scrounge today.
abby is vocal, or well, as vocal as she lets herself be. heaving grunts and gasps, every movement seeming to force the wind right out of her and no matter how hard she’d clench her jaw they’d still find a way out. ellie is silent, teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek or better yet one of abby’s shoulders to keep her sounds to herself.
it feels wrong, feels too intimate for her voice to hitch and catch. for her breath to come out hot and heavy, and her words coaxing and kind. feels wrong for her to give that to abby, for abby to take that from her.
for abby, after all this time to be underneath her, cheeks red, lips parted and eyes half lidded staring up at her. ellie is quick to move, to arch herself forward and bury her face into the crux of abby’s neck. she refuses to make eye contact like this, looming over her, hands pinning abby down.. reminds her of santa barbara, reminds her why they’re here. why she even knows who abby is.
abby is whining now, thick hands reaching up to roam over ellie’s back, only this time she pulls her closer, holds her tight. it’s a suffocating feeling to be this close to abby, to listen to her voice pitch up and down, feel her chest rise and fall, for ellie’s hand to press between those spread thighs and grind her fingers through abby’s soaked folds.
there was a time when ellie could do this by thinking of dina. blotting out abby’s visage with prettier memories, a kinder voice, a more loving presence but even those grew rotten. how long did she deserve to hold those thoughts close? when she chose to throw the figure within them away specifically so she could hunt abby down. hunt her down like prey and like prey abby ends up beneath her time and time again.
ellie chose abby, chose this life of chasing her fantasy, her second chance, her path to healing and ellie, ellie was collateral damage abby had to drag along. her sins in human form she had to look at every morning, had to keep fed and warm and safe in arms that had beaten and mangled her.
so ellie gave abby what she needed, gave her release, gave her lips to kiss and a body to hold and grind against. a moment where she isn’t a survivor, a soldier. where ellie isn’t a cure or a hunter. where they were just two woman, in a broken world, revelling in the few brisk moments of physical pleasure they could be allowed before trekking forward. when the afterglow fades, when their breathing begins to steady and ellie feels her weight pressing into abby’s torso too deeply.
and then they were back to business. to cold indifference or tacit hatred. back to pretending that they didn’t care, that they truly wanted the other gone. not when they could share moments like this, as fraught as they may be.
