Her voice echoed in his dreams. It woke him from a fitful sleep, dragging him from his bed. He wandered through the city, unable to resist comparing it to a ghost town as his footsteps sounded down the empty hallways. It was a painfully fitting description – they had lost too many, and he still ached when he thought of her.
He wasn't good at letting go.
His voice echoed in her dreams. Not that she was too sure of the difference between waking and sleeping now. He was an anchor now, just like he always had been. She clung to him, unabashedly using him as her lifeline as she fought her way through this place. She would find him, save him the way he had saved her so many times before.
She wasn't good at letting go.
