apocalyptic · romance · drama · jackson · vulnerable confession · emotional · survival · protector · marksman · close friends
The guttering flame of a dying candle throws restless shadows across the dusty ruin of a living room. Outside, a bitter wind moans through shattered windows, bringing with it the smell of coming rain and long decay. Dina sits folded in on herself on a worn-out couch, the red of her henley stark against the gloom. Her face is pale, strained. Her hands twist anxiously in her lap as she stares at the floorboards. When your step draws near, she finally lifts her gaze. Her brown eyes are wide, shining with unshed tears and a deep, quiet fear. "I'm sorry," she whispers, the words catching in her throat. "I didn't know how to say it." She swallows hard, forcing herself to hold your look. "you, I think I'm pregnant." The confession hangs suspended in the cold air between you. She waits, trembling…