[TLOU X OC]
"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?"
Billie Miller lives in a world of shadows, both outside the barricaded windows and within the walls of her strained relationship with her father, Joel. Trapped in a crumblin...
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XXXV. peanut butter
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Billie woke before the sun.
The dorm room was quiet, save for the low hum of the compound outside starting to stir. She sat up slowly, the ache in her shoulders reminding her of yesterday's patrol. But it wasn't the bruises or fatigue that sat heavy in her chest.
It was her.
Abby.
That kiss still echoed in Billie's bones, fierce, desperate, real. She touched her lips without thinking, then snatched her hand away, embarrassed by her own softness.
She hadn't slept much. Just lay there in the dark, running it all back again and again. Abby's voice. Abby's hands. The way she looked after, like she'd already decided it couldn't happen again.
Billie rubbed at her eyes and threw the blanket off. Nora snored softly in the other bed, oblivious. Good. Billie didn't feel like explaining herself.
She dressed quickly, plain shirt, hair in a messy braid, nothing special, and slipped out into the cool morning air.
The stadium was already buzzing. A few people moved about with rifles slung over their backs, getting ready for rotations. Billie passed them without a word, heading to the mess hall.
She didn't expect to see her there.
But Abby was seated at one of the far tables, half-shaded by the beams above, a mug between her hands. Her braid was still damp. She looked tired. Less like the stoic soldier and more like a person Billie couldn't stop thinking about.
Their eyes met across the room.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then Abby stood, picked up her mug, and started walking over.
Billie's stomach flipped, but she stayed put. Pretending to be casual. Cool. Like her whole brain wasn't screaming.
Abby stopped a foot in front of her, gaze unreadable.
