Glory Days - OCKiss Day 3
shhh pretend I've been updating these all week and not dumping them all at once-
also forgot context for Day 1, but they're in a zombie apocalypse and Marsh has been separated from his siter, Neptune. Marsh is 18 and Droven is 17. Neptune is 10, although she doesnt appear.
Prompts: Kiss all over | Reunion
divider by @saradika-graphics
“Honestly, it’s pretentious,” Droven was saying, kicking a rock down the road. “It’s trying to be deep, and it isn’t.”
Marsh shrugged. “Granted, but I’d rather suffer through it every time rather than have my fingernails peeled off--”
Droven shook his head. “No, you don’t get it. I would willingly have my other hand chopped off to not watch The Breakfast Club again. With a smile.”
“Well, you’ll have to find someone else to do it this time. I’m not going through that agai--”
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, breaking Marsh’s sentence off and stopping him in his tracks.
“Plus, the ending sucks,” Droven argued, not noticing Marsh’s concentration. “I think--”
“Shh!” Marsh hissed, straining his ears to listen.
And…there! Again, the bark. Low and rough, from down the highway behind them.
Marsh snapped his head to look back. “Springsteen?” he called.
Droven stepped forward. “It couldn’t be her,” he whispered, more in disbelief than truly doubtful, but Marsh knew his own dog’s bark better than anything.
“Springsteen!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Spring, c’mere, girl!” He put his fingers to his lips and whistled. Springsteen barked again. “Come here, c’mon!”
A big black shape emerged from behind one of the rotting abandoned cars on the road, racing towards them.
Marsh broke into a bright laugh and knelt down, patting his leg. “Good girl, Spring! Come on!”
Springsteen leaped into his open arms, knocking him onto the ground. The impact jarred his injured leg, but he couldn’t have cared any less. Not when he pet floppy shepherd ears as his dog turned him into a slobbery mess, licking every bit of skin on his face and arms.
“Alright, dog, okay! Let me up!” he giggled, finally pushing her off him with some effort.
Springsteen sat on his legs and opened her mouth in what Marsh could only assume was a big doggy smile. He rubbed behind her ears, cooing at her.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, flooding his legs in so he could kiss the soft fur at the top of her head. “Good puppy. Look at you! How’d you find me, huh? Where’d you come from?”
Springsteen tilted her head like she was really listening to his questions, then surged forward and licked his face again.
Droven appeared at Marsh’s side, kneeling down so Springsteen could smell the new stranger. “Shouldn’t she be with your sister, though?” he asked, almost carefully, but still perfectly voicing Marsh’s worries.
He grimaced. “I’m trying not to think about it.” He was choosing to believe they had gotten separated somewhere along the road, and the dog was left with no choice but to track him down.
Springsteen seemed to accept Droven and shoved her face in his hand for immediate pets, which Droven happily obliged.
“It’s fine,” Marsh said, though his voice sounded distant now. Neptune was fine--so she didn’t have the dog. She could make it. She was strong, she had every skill Marsh could possibly have taught her in three years. It was fine.
He scratched underneath Springsteen’s chin, now returned to sitting on his legs like she could sense his worry.
“It’s fine,” he repeated, and he made sure to believe it more firmly that time. He held out his hand in an unspoken question and Droven gripped it, helping him to his feet. Springsteen returned to his side like she was a puppy again, listening intently while Marsh trained her in the horse barn after school.
Marsh patted her head. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Good dog.”
It was fine.
