30 (day) drabble challenge- 1- companion
so we're alone. all the other has.
we're holed up in a one-story building, a single candle burning in our barricaded room. some sunlight falls through the slits between the wood covering the window, but the sun is now setting and the single reliable light source is the candle.
"so we're staying for the night." i look at dylan, who's lying on his back, catcher in the rye in his hands and leaned toward the candle.
"that's generally our main rule, so i'm gonna say yes." he says, flipping the page. where i had chosen gatsby, he had chosen catcher. we're both way into the classics. they're not so important anymore (in a world full of corpses- that, may i mention, are reanimated), but we always did have a book on us before, so a little apocalypse action isn't about to stop that habit. but we both had the good sense to limit it to a single choice.
we spend the hours in shelter very boringly, and very quiet. mostly reading, sleeping, on watch duty, or talking (more like whispering). we converse about many a thing: the end of the world, our lives before said end of the world (even though we try to not talk about that because wow believe it or not, it's still a sore subject), plans for the next day, what we think is going on somewhere else, i don't know, everything is fair game.
he sets catcher down and sits up, turning towards the candle and me. his glasses reflect the small flicker of the flame, and i look at him looking at the candle, some weird circle of looking. except the candle is the odd man out because, hello, candle.
and then he looks up and looks me in the eye, and did my heart just skip a beat? i think maybe it did. the stare continues for some moments, and it's so fucking quiet i can probably make out the grass rustling outside if i focus really hard.
"what do you think is gonna happen to us, V?" he asks, which i've heard before from him, and i've answered, but i don't like thinking about it because the future doesn't look bright.
"well, simba, everything the light touches is fucked to all hell and we are all part of the circle of life. we're going to die, eventually, dylan. either from Z bite or old age, but really, the latter is... doubtful." i say. it started off as a joke but ended really morosely.
he chuckled at the first part of that amazing answer, but now he's silent and looking away from me.
and neither of us talks for a long while. i watch the wax burn down, small streams of a fleeting light. then, in the sea of silence, he rustles, and speaks.
"you're all i have, you know. the only constant. the only one who stayed with me." and he's still not looking at me and he's also never said anything like this before.
"uh, yeah, dylan. you're all i have, too. we're a team, right? you, me, against all obstacles. like i'm the Doctor, and you're Rose. you're my best friend, dude." i said Rose because her and the doctor kinda-sorta-maybe get together and i'd be lying if i said i didn't want the same. except with this firey-haired boy who likes classic literature (among other things).
he smiles, and looks at me and wow i just called him Rose but really that's kind of true. he's my companion, and he's the most important thing to me. other than surviving, but i can't have one without the other.