The first time you saw her you thought she was an angel, sent to you either to save your life or to take it.
But, as much as a part of you desperately wanted to believe that, you knew she was just like you.
You understood she wasn't a walker from the way her boot-clad feet moved confidently one in front of the other, no wobbling and no stumbling, from the strong grip her pale hand had on the black gun and, most of all, from the smile she threw at you.
You just had a few seconds to observe her, but those were more than enough. If the healthy colour of her dirty-blond hair was anything to go by, she was definitely still human.
You had been cornered by two walkers, unarmed and without means of escape, for the first time actually fearing for your life. But she'd arrived just in time, her back to you, to protect you.
Her strong figure gave you a strange sense of familiarity you couldn't quite place. The way her feet were just a tad apart, her squared shoulders, the smirk you knew she was wearing and the confident gleam in her eyes you couldn't even see.
When you thought she was going to be quick in her kill, she just had to be an arrogant little bitch and take her time to light her cigarette. She only acted when one of the walkers was mere inches from her, shooting its head clean off and then taking care of its companion in much the same way.
She offered you her hand when she turned around, eyes bright and a smile tugging at her plump lips. The blue reminded you of the sky during one of the days before the literal apocalypse had descended on Earth.
You remember yelling at her for a good five minutes, because 'she could've gotten the both of you killed, for fuck's sake!'
You didn't spare her the string of insults that came to your mind after the fear had vanished, pretty eyes or not. But, as you were still glaring at her with white-hot rage, she didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"You could've gotten yourself killed! Or bitten!"
For a second she seemed to wonder why you cared, and suddenly the blue reminded you of the darkest depths of the ocean. Then she pulled a flawless one-eighty.
"Pretty sure I'm immune to bites, buttercup."
At that point she winked at you, her voice low as she drawled her nickname of choice. You'd never admit that her flirting had worked. You'd never admit that you found her cockiness sexy, either.
Your voice was a growl as it got past gritted teeth and out of your lips. The blush on your cheeks surely rendered you less intimidating than you would've liked.
"And just how would you know this?"
She shrugged, sporting a Cheshire grin and looking at you with half-lidded eyes, seemingly knowing something you didn't, hiding secrets behind her faux innocence.
"I dunno, call it a hunch if you want."
She gave you her back, indifferent to your rage. You wanted to thank her for saving you life, but the worry had been a powerful channel for ire, overwhelmingly so.
"Bye buttercup!"
Those were her last cheerful words, thrown over her shoulder with a toothy smile and the promise of trouble, her gun safely tucked into the back of her jeans and the cigarette between her fingers.
All you could do was throw your arms in the air and groan in frustration as you heard her footsteps fade away in the distance.
You didn't even know her name.
The second time you met her you knew she was going to stay.
Looking at her, you couldn't imagine how in the world she managed to keep herself clean, smelling of soap even, in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
Every time you dared take a step out of the door you were practically submerged in walkers and had to fight your way out of it with nails and claws and so much sweat. The shirts that hadn't been soaked in black blood at least once you could count on one hand.
But you never saw a drop of blood on her, not on her clothes nor on her body. And when she went in for the occasional kill she tried to keep it as clean as possible.
Her t-shirt changed, her pants changed, heck, even her weapon changed from time to time, but the combat boots and, most of all, the leather jacket were a constant. Rain, sun, fog, storm, whatever the weather black was covering her shoulders.
You never bothered to ask, though.
At the third unintentional try, you came to know her name.
The first thing that came to your mind was familiarity. And you couldn't explain how exactly that was.
Her name was strong, beautiful, just like her, but you'd never heard it before.
You knew it was linked to one of your memories, but it was only images peeking out of a haze, just like a dream you couldn't clearly remember.
Elyza.
It definitely fit her, or so you thought the first time she uttered those few, but oh so important syllables.
You almost missed them as you tried to follow the movements of her lips.
But you'd never admit that you were starting to fall for her. Never.
Although your blush had probably given it away a lot of time before that.
At some point, you stopped counting the number of times you two met, because it didn't really matter anymore.
You tried to take the most out of your meetings, because every day could be the last.
You could take care of yourself, and that was a fact, but you had a feeling that, if one of you had to go down, it would be your turn first.
One time, you heard her sing and you wouldn't believe, couldn't believe it was actually her.
You could just stare without a word.
"What is it, buttercup?"
A smile.
"Walker got your tongue?"
Her tone of voice always swung between teasing and sweet, sometimes cheerful, seldom melancholic.
You'd come to love her bit by bit, even if you'd already fallen completely by the first time.
The very first thing were her eyes, that refused to obey their owner and showed emotions she tried to conceal. It was always a clear day when you looked in there.
Then came her lips and the smile they hid. They were her mask and her real self and another person all at the same time.
You never understood why she was so familiar to you since the beginning. But that smile had become your home, a warm home you could always return to.
Then it was the turn of her hands, still soft as remnants of the normal lives you had to sacrifice. She could handle so many weapons, but, at the same time, her touch was gentle and so delicate on your skin.
The first kiss happened at dawn and you felt it was a moment that could well be captured in one of those aesthetics photos.
She came to your house at an indecent hour, throwing a pebble at your window.
"Why in the world did you wake me up so early?"
"Dunno, I kinda felt lonely."
She'd shrugged, walking nonchalantly in front of you, her boots pressing on concrete.
"And you decided to come and disrupt my sleep, yes?"
"I couldn't hang out with a bunch of walkers, could I?"
She smiled at that point and your heart somersaulted, what with her being bathed in golden light.
The thought of her being an angel nestled itself at the back of your mind.
You followed her without question, trusting her wholeheartedly and curious about where exactly she was going in a place that had been reduced to ruins.
She walked to the top of a little hill, just outside the city, still green despite the burning heat, and patted the spot beside her for you to sit.
She started singing lightly without being asked to, but it never bothered you. Rather it was a pleasure. You wanted her to sing to you like that forever because you'd come to realise you wanted to stay by her side till the end of your days.
She then looked in your eyes – catching you staring but you didn't give a damn – with those deep pools of blue, without uttering a word.
Then time seemed to come to a stop, just like in those sappy rom-coms you used to hate. Feeling like the main character in one of those didn't really feel that bad, though.
Her lips were as warm and soft as you'd imagined them to be and her hands in your hair gave you shivers.
When you opened your eyes you saw her shy for the first time, blushing as she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, smiling at the ground.
You had a lot of first times with her, now that you thought about it. Even things you would've never done had your life been still normal. Things you wouldn't have done without her by your side.
Really, you felt like that was not an apocalypse anymore, like you were somewhere else, somewhere safe despite having to shed blood once in a while.
Everything disappeared when you were with her.
You liked the feeling of being completely alone together and how you felt powerful beside her.
You suddenly had the whole universe at your fingertips when you intertwined your hand with hers.
Your first time, the first time, happened in summer too.
Elyza really enjoyed – maybe a bit too much – waking you up at ungodly hours with a pebble thrown on you window, but there were times where she had the decency to actually knock on your front door like a civil person.
The first time she did it she caught you unprepared and you basically opened the door for her to find you in your underwear.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, the lightest pink decorating her cheeks.
"Really, if you had something in mind you should've told me, I would've come prepared."
Too tired to even be embarrassed you just had the strength to roll your eyes.
"Fuck you."
You muttered it, you really didn't think she could hear you.
"Pretty please?"
You damned yourself, her and her bad puns as you slammed the door in her face.
When you met her face again about ten minutes later she was smiling and you were frowning, still slightly irritated.
She gestured for you to follow and, at that point, you didn't even try to question it.
As you were walking beside her under the sun, you felt like the sole of your running shoes were slowly melting on the gray asphalt. You were wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and boyshorts – fuck safety, honestly – but it didn't help.
You were sure you were melting right then and there and it eluded you how Elyza could still go around in jeans, boots and that goddamned leather jacket.
When you arrived to an abandoned work in progress of a building and you finally sat in the shadows, you voiced your concerns.
"How come you never take off that jacket, Elyza?"
Her attitude changed in a heartbeat, going from her usual self to defensive.
"Uh... I'm...cold?"
It sounded more like an attempt at dodging your question than a response.
"It's literally ninety degrees outside, how can you be cold?"
A sly smile that didn't do a good job at hiding the uneasiness in her eyes curved her lips.
"Why so interested, buttercup? Want what's under it?"
You leaned forward to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth, hoping to soften her up a bit.
"So what if I do?"
You rested your forehead on hers as you said that.
Panic crossed her features for a millisecond, then she closed her eyes and sighed.
"Okay, just... look, I don't want you to freak out or anything, but could you turn around for a sec?"
You frowned at her request. Why was she being so serious about it all? You did as asked, but anxiety was mounting in your chest for more than a reason.
What if she really wanted to do it?
Your heart sped up when you heard the unmistakable rustling of fabric.
"Close your eyes."
And you did. You felt her move around you with the taste of anxiousness on the back of your tongue.
"You can open them."
Her voice a whisper you could barely hear over the blood roaring in your veins.
As your eyes scanned her lean figure, now sitting cross-legged in front of you, you couldn't help gasping, bringing your hands to cover your mouth in disbelief.
Elyza had taken her top off, leaving only her bra on, but that wasn't what had left you speechless.
The entirety of her upper body was covered in bite scars.
"There is a reason."
And he voice was so broken, feeble, insecure. Hearing her, you almost regretted asking.
Your breath was still caught in your throat and your brain refused to form a coherent sentence.
"How...?"
Your own voice was trembling too, just like your body. How could she be still alive? Why wasn't she a walker like everyone else who had been bitten?
Hundreds of questions bounced around your head, giving you a headache. You felt your blood starting to burn in your veins.
"I wasn't always this prepared for walker's attacks. It happened a while ago, months actually, a hoard got me and..."
She gestured to her own body with a bitter smile and a shrug.
"I found a pharmacy to take shelter and locked myself in there. As I was waiting for my consciousness to slip away and make me a brainless zombie, I patched myself up as beat as I could. It really was all done out of habit, y'know, but as time passed the wounds were healing and the disease wasn't coming. After two weeks of being still alive, I knew I had become immune."
She held her eyes down and her arms around herself, waiting for you to say something.
When you put a hand on her shoulder she held your gaze and silently allowed you to touch her. And so you did, pressing your palms on the ruined skin, feeling the rough imprints of teeth on her arms, on her chest, on her abdomen.
But her skin was warm, blood was still flowing under it, screaming loud and clear that Elyza's body was still alive. Still human.
As you brushed your fingertips on her, you felt her blue eyes on you, wandering and wondering.
She stiffened when you hugged her and she took a beat to reciprocate.
"Thank you."
Strangely enough, it wasn't Elyza who had uttered those words, it was... you.
"What are you talking about?"
There was so much doubt in her voice, you actually smiled in her hair, unseen.
"Thank you, for showing yourself to me, I would've never thought you..."
You shook your head, at loss for words, you couldn't find the right ones, but, honestly, who could have?
"I love you."
You were not sure that was completely intentional on your part, but the sounds managed to get past your lips before you could stop them. Besides, you'd wanted to say it for a long time.
She exhaled a shaky sigh and an unbelieving laugh gave way to her tears. She chocked on a sob before being able to talk again.
"You're too much."
You didn't answer back to her whisper, you just smiled wider as tears filled your eyes too and she clung to your shirt in an attempt at bringing you closer.
She was beautiful, she was strong, she'd walked through hell and back and had managed to remain herself.
You pulled out of the hug just to take her wet cheeks in your hands and kiss her, putting all the love you were capable of in that single contact.
It wasn't heated, it wasn't passionate, it was a way of reassuring her that everything was alright, that she was alright.
At the same time you were making sure she was real under your touch and, as you felt your lips tremble, a single tear streamed down your cheek.
"Please don't let go."
Her voice was wavering, but tinted with a smile. You didn't want to let go, ever.