Chapter 2: It Had to Mean Something
Under the soft, white sweater, she was bruised and cracked but not broken. They could have killed her. They would have. But she'd survived. Somehow.
He passed her the cigarette, and she felt his eyes on her. He wasn't forcing her to talk. She'd come to him. She'd sat down with him. She'd shared her cigarette, and now, as she took a long drag off of it, she felt the weight on her shoulders begin to crush her.
"You wanna go somewhere?" he finally asked.
"No."
"You wanna go inside?"
"No." She flicked the ashes, watching them catch on the breeze and float away.
"You wanna talk?"
"No." A deep breath. "But I need to." She glanced at him, watching the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
"I kissed Tobin. Not…not today. The other night, before we left." She ran her fingers through her hair, taking one last drag on the cigarette before passing it back to him. He watched her for a moment before taking a drag off of it, too. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, only drifting to watch the way her fingers nervously picked at a frayed tear on her pants. "I did it because I felt bad. And I don't know how that makes me sound. I did it, because I needed to feel something that wasn't…pain." Her shoulders trembled with a heavy breath. "But you kissed me last night, and that...that was…"
"Don't have to be anything." He looked away, flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and wiped his hands on his pant legs nervously.
"Yes it does." She kept her gaze on his until he looked at her again. "I couldn't be that Carol around you. The first day in Alexandria, you said it yourself. I looked ridiculous."
"Wasn't talkin' about…"
"I know." She smiled sadly. "You know me better than anybody. Last night? It had to be you. It had to mean something." She looked down for a moment before she met his gaze again and leaned in to press her lips against his. He froze until her hand was on his chest, fingers curling into his vest until she pulled back. "It does mean something."