Francis sighed, then rolled over again, staring up at the dark ceiling. Zoey had fallen asleep at least an hour ago. He knew he needed sleep, but found he was unable to get it. He rolled back onto his stomach, and pressed his face into the pillows, thinking maybe the added darkness would help. It only made it worse. He groaned, then jumped and exclaimed loudly when he felt fingers on the bare skin of his back. He rolled over, and scowled softly. "God damn it, Zoey! Don't do that!"

Zoey chuckled softly, sitting on her knees on the bed. She'd heard Francis moving about restlessly, and had decided to come in and try to help him fall asleep. "Did I scare you?"

Francis frowned, and scoffed. "Of course you didn't scare me. I just wasn't expecting you to do that."

Zoey grinned triumphantly. "I did scare you, admit it!"

Francis rolled his eyes, then dropped his face into the pillows again. "Fine, okay, you scared me. Happy now?"

Zoey giggled. "Maaybe." Francis rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

He gasped when he felt her straddle him, her legs on each side of his hips, and start to play her fingers across his back. "What do you think you're doing?"

Zoey sighed. "Just relax. I'm trying to help you get some sleep."

Francis sighed, looked back at her, then relaxed under her. Her fingers started feeling good, and his eyes slowly drooped. "Where the hell did you learn this?"

Zoey smiled. "Home. You like?"

Francis grunted and smiled softly, slowly falling into unconsciousness. Zoey stopped once she heard his soft snoring, and smiled. She carefully climbed off of him back onto the bed. She dropped one leg to get off, then turned, looked back at him, and smiled. She shrugged, then laid down on that side of the bed, sighing and drifting off to sleep.

Francis woke slowly, blinking, and sighed. He vaguely remembered what Zoey had done for him the other night, and smiled. He went to move, felt a resistance on his arm, and frowned. He looked to the side and froze. Zoey had apparently not gone back to the other bed, but had fallen asleep in this one. Some time during the night, they'd tangled themselves up in a cuddle. She was using his arm and chest as a pillow, and he was holding her to him. He carefully lifted her, and moved his arm. He laid her back down as gently as he could, then got up. He walked out of the room, down the hall, and into the bathroom.

When he was done, he walked back into the room, and sat on the bed, watching her sleeping form. She was actually very pretty, and still carried a child-like cuteness when asleep. She looked innocent, not like she should be in the world she was. For a second he pitied her, then the pity turned into admiration. This college girl was doing a damn fine job of surviving the zombie apocalypse. When he'd first met up with her, she'd been a mess. And a poor shot. She'd also been scared of him. Now... well, he didn't know how she felt now. He just knew how he felt about her. He wanted to make sure she was safe, protecting her, so much as giving up his own safety to make sure she was okay. And, in a way... he loved her.

He shook his head, then turned, and pulled his boots over. He started pulling one on, then felt fingers on his back again. He turned his head. "Mornin', sleepy." Zoey grinned back, her hands on his shoulders. "Morning, big guy. How you feel?"

He smiled softly, pulled the boot on, and straightened. "Nice and rested. You?"

She smiled. "Same. You make a good pillow."

Francis' smile faded, and he looked away, not responding. Zoey frowned, and leaned on his back, looking at him. He gently shrugged her off. Zoey's frown deepened. "Francis? What'd I do?"

Francis looked at her. "You haven't done anything. This is for what I fear I'll do."

Zoey frowned even deeper, and she put a hand on his shoulder. "And what's that?"

He sighed and hung his head. "Zoey, do you know what a man's second hunger is?"

Zoey looked at him, then nodded. "I... think so. The hunger for women, right?"

Francis nodded. "Yes, the hunger for women. What you've been doing..." He sighed and trailed off, looking down, then reaching for the other boot.

Zoey stopped him. "What I've been doing...?"

Francis sighed, pulled the boot close, then worked it onto his foot. "It's been making me hungry." He got up, and walked to the dresser.

Zoey frowned, then followed. While he worked over his things, she hesitantly walked in front of him, making him look at her. "Francis?" He grunted, looking away. She made him look at her again. "What exactly is wrong with you getting 'hungry'?"

He looked down at her, uncertainty in his eyes. "If I'm 'hungry' for you, Zoey, I won't be able to protect you as well as I can. I'll be clouded with a want of you. Do you understand that?"

Zoey sighed softly, and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, pressed against him. Her brows shot up, and she pulled away, looking at him. "You... weren't kidding, were you? About you getting hungry."

Francis looked away and shook his head. "No, I wasn't. And I never will be." He pushed her back and out of the way gently, then resumed checking his belt and weapons, taking a cloth and wiping his axe down.

Zoey frowned, looking at him, blinking rapidly as she felt her eyes start to get moist. She looked away and shook her head, clearing her throat. "Wh- whatever." She walked out of the room, her hand wiping across her eyes.

Francis frowned deeply. "Damn it, Francis," he said to himself softly. "Why do you always go and hurt her?" He walked after her, stopping at the doorway.

The door was closed. Behind it, he heard crying. He knocked on the door. "Go away!"

Francis cringed. He'd hurt her pretty badly if she was telling him to go away. So he did exactly the opposite: he opened the door and took a step in. "Zoey?"

Zoey was mostly on the bed, her face in the pillows, her shoulders heaving. She threw a pillow at him, but didn't look at him. He bent down, grabbed the pillow, and stood, walking over. He sat next to her, where her legs fell off the bed. He put his hand on her leg and rubbed gently. "Zoey..." he started. She kicked at him, and hit him square in the jaw. He jerked and grunted, holding his jaw. "Ow... Zoey, I'm sorry. I... don't want to see you hurt. And if anything happened between us... I'm afraid I won't be as efficient."

Zoey didn't kick at him again, which he was glad for, but she also didn't look at him. That he didn't like. He gripped her thigh in his hand gently, rubbing softly. "Zoey... please look at me?"

Zoey's crying softened, and she pushed herself up. She turned and looked at him. Her eyes were red already. He held his arm out invitingly, question in his eyes. She sighed and crawled over to him, then cuddled against him, finishing her crying against his chest. He stroked her hair. He didn't like seeing women cry; in fact, he hated it. But seeing Zoey cry nearly tore his heart out.

She finished her crying, but stayed where she was. She looked up at him for a while, and noticed a bruise was appearing where she'd kicked him. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching up and touching it.

Francis shrugged. "It's nothing. Just a bruise."

Zoey frowned. "Francis, I know it hurts. You don't have to play tough guy on me. I know you have a soft side in there somewhere."

Francis sighed, and looked down at her. He leaned his forehead against hers. "You're going to do what you can to see that side, aren't you?"

Zoey grinned. "Yes, Francis, I am." She sighed, and dropped her gaze.

"Come on, Zoey. We've got to get moving." Zoey sighed and nodded. She patted his chest gently. "Get your shirt and vest, big guy. I need my guide and protection. Even the zombies know by now they'll die worse if they touch your vest."

Francis chuckled softly. He stood, holding her. She giggled when he put her down. She hugged him tightly, burying her face against his chest and inhaling deeply. "Thank you, Francis."

"For?" Zoey smiled softly. "Everything."