A disclaimer (if this really is necessary): I do not own Fear the Walking Dead nor the actors, but I do own a shit ton of feels for this ship.
x
In spite of myself, I dream of Matt.
I saw him, confined to his bed, laid down in peace. I approached him, eager yet my steps seemed tentative and uneven. My pace was painfully slow that I felt I was walking toward him over and over again until finally I reached his side. He was asleep. There were no real evidences of this, but I knew he was asleep though he looked very much dead. The only thing about him that seemed alive was the prominent mark the shape of a bite above his collarbone. His name rang in my head but I must've said it aloud—his eyes shot open.
I awoke with a jolt, finding myself shaking and a little bit cold. I steadied my breathing and tried to recapture my dream. I remembered seeing his eyes, but they weren't his eyes anymore.
I scanned the room as much as the lack of light would let me. I bent over the side of my bed and half-expected Nick to be sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor beside me. When I remembered he was gone, it only brought me further to my sense of reality.
I steadied my breathing and stepped out of my bed. I wasn't particularly sure what I wanted to do, but I knew I didn't want to go back to sleep. Silently, I left my room. Through the hallway, I saw that the door to the guest room was left ajar. I crept toward it, wary of my surroundings and from a quick glance, noticed no one was in the bed.
I headed out of the house to the backyard without a sound and just as I had suspected, Chris was settled on the roof. I climbed on to the back of the pickup truck as leverage to pull myself on to the roof.
Chris jumped in alarm and turned his head at me swiftly.
"Oh, it's you," he said once his panic subsided.
I seated myself comfortably in the spot beside him. He didn't look very keen for company.
"I figure you couldn't sleep?" I spoke up, my eyes wandering the darkened houses below us.
He sighed before he gave an answer. "Yeah," he said, followed by a pause. I assumed that was the end of conversation until he asked, "Have you ever seen the stars so bright before?"
Subconsciously, my attention was brought up to the sky. He was on to something; the stars seemed especially luminescent and myriad in number. Almost every portion of the heavens was dotted in constellations over constellations.
"Wow, that's beautiful," my eyes got lost at the sight.
"It's cause light pollution dropped drastically," he explained. "There's no more light down here to block out the light up there."
I listened and marvelled at the only beautiful thing this disaster has done so far.
"Is this why you're here?" I asked him.
"Yeah, well, that and…" his words trailed off and I looked at him as he dragged a bottle I hadn't noticed from his side to right in front of me. He looked sheepish and I had realized he had just brought out a bottle of vodka.
"Oh," I said, my eyebrows shooting up.
"Yeah. I, uh, stole it from your kitchen. Sorry," he scratched the back of his neck.
I picked up the bottle and examined it. Being still partially full suggested he hadn't drunk much yet. I uncapped the bottle and took a swig of it as he watched in fascination. I had only mustered one gulp before I set it down and the liquid burned my throat.
Chris chuckled and I realized I was making a sour face.
He took the bottle from me and lasted one whole gulp longer than I did before he too choked it down. I found myself laughing when he shivered unpleasantly.
Smiling, I said, "You don't drink much, do you?"
"Nope," he shook his head in contempt.
I savoured the tingle it left in my throat as I gave an inward laugh. I breathed in and rested my head on his shoulder and felt him tense up immediately.
"Hey Chris," I muttered, eyes half-closed.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry I elbowed you in the face."
He laughed and I was pleased to feel him ease up against me.
"I was only trying to help," he said jokingly.
I laughed as well and buried my head deeper into the crook of his neck. "I know. Thanks," I let my eyes close completely.
I didn't flinch away when he brushed the hair off my face.
x
Legit, I want to write more, but I don't know how to escalate their romance further without it looking forced or out of character. This was like before their whole abandoned house escapade. So the next one might be set in that scene? (which was like my fave scene of them.) Maybe I'll think of something at some point but for now I'm just gonna leave this out there.
