A first love is nothing. Nothing compared to how one might feel later on. Thorns and all, both who think of each other as a first love may be blinded. Of the comfort they both seek for salvation. Only comfort and infatuation blinded them. Not love. Though.. he remained to be my closest friend until my time ran short. Desire for comfort I believe.. is a dangerous thing. What we had barely lasted. I may have never said anything, but what we did that afternoon was a mistake. A mistake that was brought from my false happiness I thought I felt. Just to be brought to a place I longed to see. In a way it brought us closer, but even then we were still broken. Full of despair and hate.

-Unknown, 2033.

No words could express how I felt. Such a home that had an allure beyond its windows and walls. How had Preacher known I've wanted to come here? Upon from where we stood I saw the reflection on the window. Despite its discoloration in the glass, my face represented a mask of surprise. Deep down maybe that's how I felt.

Turning I was greeted with Preacher's warm smile that made my heart flutter. I took an uneven breath as my eyes shifted to the Victorian style house. Confusion settling my thoughts when I furrowed my eyebrows. "How-"

"It's obvious every time we pass by," He began. "You always stop here when we're heading to the tunnels and take a brief look at the house. So.. I figured you know..."

We stood in a moment of silence. Perhaps too long. To be fair I contemplated of what I was standing a few feet from. Darkened green leaves had covered most of the house. Though a window caught my attention, shaped as a star that held the discolored look to it. Overall it remained untouched from the plant life.

"You're too quiet..." I almost laughed at Preacher's remark. My silence turned from surprised and confused to pure happiness.

"I.. thank you" What was in front of me suddenly drained away the bleakness that clouded my mind. Preacher perhaps didn't know this.. but I was effected deeply from what his surprise. Probably didn't know how much this meant to me. Without a second thought I threw my arms around Preacher. Catching him off guard as I stood on my toes just to reach him. "Thank you," I repeated, barely above a whisper.

I went on, "I don't know of how I can ever repay you. This.. you truly are observant. With how I am, how I'm like. What may catch my interest. So thank you." Tears threatened to burn my eyes. I held it in.

Don't let your heart fall so out of place. Especially when you are shown kindness.

Less than twenty-four hours I was shown kindness. The woman and her daughter upon the merchandise market. Followed by Preacher's surprise. I'm grateful. At the same time I.. I feel such a stab of guilt enter my mind. Clawing painfully at my thoughts and how I felt. Hope, that's what I need to hang on to. Why am I still hoping every day to stay alive? I'm fine. We're all fine. Nothing is ever going to happen here, no one will die, no one will ever starve. Even if our famine may harm us. Nothing will stay like this. I'm worried, yet I'm happy. I won't be afraid. Shit I need to stop being paranoid.

With sheer force I stare upon the Rodman household. Letting the happiness drown and blanket me in comfort. I focused on my breathing. Breath in.. and breath out. This was real.

When Preacher didn't respond right away, I said "Let's go in."

"You're breaking into their house?" I attempted to stifle my laughter from his question. Searching for the right words as I clearly heard the humor in his gentle voice. Back then.. Yes, this would be considered illegal. There are no more law enforcement, so it's okay.

"Says the person who decided to sneak me away from home." In response Preacher ran his fingers through his dark hair. Shaking his head as I looked directly at him, his brown eyes full of what was gaiety.

"Either way we're bad influences for each other." Mirth dripped from his tone. Causing myself to simply roll my eyes at Preacher. To be fair I'm glad that we weren't feeling as bleak as we were earlier. The discussion of his father and Carrie did.. change the atmosphere drastically. He had his own inner demons of guilt and I had my own. Unlike my father and brother whose hands remained clean from the slain. Preacher and I had shared that similarity. Taking the life from someone we loved in the past.

Thinking back on it with the countless discussions I had with Hope. I couldn't get the thought out of my head if she has ever killed anyone. If she ever had, I wouldn't understand of how she could keep herself together from time to time. It was as if she was free from worry. Never bothered from how the world is. Her tolerance is what I look up to from Hope. I even look up to the younger children in the Colony who aren't bothered as from the horrific brutality of our world. In their minds they think this is how the world is supposed to be. Bleak, cruel, and full of despair.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard glass shatter. Out of worry I gasp, my eyes wide open, "Preacher what the hell!" I whisper harshly. "What if something heard you?"

Before he had the chance to climb through the window, I caught the corners of his lips form into a smirk. "We're fine Miri, I've been on patrol duty out here for the last few weeks and there hasn't been anything out of the ordinary. Well, if you count seeing a few stray dogs, every thing is normal."

"Dreyfus is allowing you to be out here? Even at night?" It's all I can reply with. There is a curfew every night for all of the civilians to be in their homes. Except for perhaps the few who are on security.

"He's becoming more lenient. Less controlling with who he sends out. Why do you think you we're able to be out much longer yesterday on the supply runs?"

"So that means we can go farther out from the city limits?" My words come out more surprised than I figured.

"Soon was all he said. I told him yesterday that sooner or later the supply teams need to go farther out from the city limits. Especially outside of the neighborhoods too."

Excitement fuels inside of me. Dreyfus is finally realizing that we can't stay here in San Francisco any longer. Not unless we had more supplies to last us for years. Even then I don't think a community of more than one hundred people are willing to go cross country to a new home. How Dreyfus may feel though.. it might influence the civilians in the Colony. It makes me wonder if he discussed the topic with the Founders Council.

Preacher waves his hand for me to climb through, "Ladies first." With an appreciative smile I grip his calloused hand and enter the house. My nostrils flare from the scent. It smelled of mold, and death. I gave a growl of irritation as the blinds of the window got in the way. At some point before the Outbreak this house might've been beautiful and glorified. The floorboards creaked from my footsteps. Bullet holes covered the walls of the chipped paint, following with darkened blood stains and the palm of a hand that was now faded. What the hell happened here?

Such a calm and simple house. This home has seen much better day in the past. Now neglected in every way possible. Nothing new, same as any other house in the neighborhood. Abandoned, old, and disheveled. What I finally noticed was a few pieces of paper, on a coffee table near a lightened orange couch that was accompanied with an audio recorder. Hesitantly I picked up the first paper in the pile. Faded and discolored, thank god most of it was written in pen. I must admit.. quite annoying that most of the writing was scribbled out with the splotches of ink.

August 1st, 2016

Smoke. That's all I see from where I stand. It's nowhere near the city and has been going since yesterday. I pray to god it's not in the Muir Woods. A forest fire like that would kill all of them. At least he's probably smart enough to stay away from the firestorm. Shit, I need to stop thinking that things are going to be better. For him and for us.

Today the group are having their doubts. The buses never came to our neighborhood. Everyone had bags ready to go, many were willing to leave their sickened family member behind, but no bus came.

Martial law was enforced a week ago. Uncle Will is pissed right now. Though he has hope that something good is going to happen. Last night he made a promise to Taylor and I that he'll keep us safe.

But from what?

August 2nd, 2016

The smoke is white. That means the fire is finally out. I felt a wave of relief to know that the fire is gone. I doubt that he's even alive. Thinking about him is the least of my problems right now. The power is gone.

Electricity has fled from the city. Darkness and silence are going to be the main thing for the next few weeks. Which means we can't watch the news and that was our main source. To see of what's happening to the outside world. Nobody was to leave any city in California. Well, anywhere technically. With martial law being in place the borders were on lock down. I think we're truly alone in the city.

Before the electricity went out I'd heard on TV that more bodies were all over the streets. People setting the bodies on fire and storming into quarantine zones that housed the infected. From what I gathered it was a terrorist group who thought of themselves as the new militia. Alpha-Omega is what they call themselves.

September 18th, 2016

We're still staying in the neighborhood. The girl who lived next door from us is infected. Alice Hunsiker. She was the only one left to survive in her family. Her father was the first one to be infected. I don't mean to be bitchy about it, but he was an asshole.

Food supplies are running low. If someone doesn't go into the city to search for food then, we'll be forced to starve.

September 21st, 2016

Alice died. I decided to stay with her until she finally went to sleep. She never woke up.

Yesterday morning a few went into the city. They should've been back by now.

Date unknown - 1

I lost track of the dates. I'm sure it's still 2016 and all. No one came back after a week. Which meant uncle Will, Taylor, and I had to search through other houses to find canned food that would last. A few more people in our group left yesterday to go into the city. How fucking stupid they were. The Alpha-Omega group is still running around. No doubt they would die like the first few volunteers who volunteered to go into the city and search for food.

Date unknown - 2

I hear someone outside. Or maybe it's just my imagination. I swear I'm becoming more paranoid these days.

Date unknown - 3

He's dead.

Uncle Will is dead.

I should've listened to my instincts when I heard something outside every night. Awhile Taylor and I hid in the upstairs attic we heard gunshots. Uncle Will was screaming, and I couldn't handle it anymore. By the time I got out of the attic, he had been laying on the floor. Blood was pooled all around him. Shot in the head, the chest a few times, his shoulder. I just stood there. But then yesterday I finally broke down when Taylor and I dragged his body to the backyard. I threw up a few times as we buried him. I don't know what to do. And Taylor hasn't said a fucking thing about what we should do next. I can't wait anymore, I made my choice.

I'm going into the city. Even with that damned militia group still around I'm going into the city. There's nothing left for us here in this fucking house.

Date unknown - 4

Taylor left. At least that's what I figured. I had our supplies ready to go, and all I know was that he stormed off with his backpack in the middle of the night and left. All I did was stand there. He left me. First grandpa Charles, Caesar, aunt Caroline, uncle Will, and now Taylor? Maybe Taylor became infected and didn't want me to see him die. He should understand that I'm used to death by now. Or maybe he couldn't handle me anymore. That I was probably a burden.

Screw him.

Eight entries. That's all she wrote was eight entries. I furrowed my eyebrows as I placed the few sheets of paper back on the coffee table. I could never imagine having a relationship like that with Tanner.

Despite the entries, despite how she felt, I could somewhat relate to Hope. Sick of everything that this world now offered. I couldn't quite believe that Hope was this way back then. She's always gentle, and happy. Hope must've really worked on her tolerance for the past ten years. I didn't know whether to explore more of the house or leave already. I stood alone in the living room. Preacher was near the hallway observing one of the books he found on the red chair near the couch. Leaving me to read the entries I found and gave me some space. Curious enough I then pressed play on the audio recorder.

"My last day here. Heh, it feels weird honestly. I doubt that anyone is ever going to come into this house, read my entries, and then play what I recorded. It doesn't matter who finds the entries I recorded for only a few months. If I'm correct, it's probably been much longer. In the upstairs attic I replayed uncle Will's video recorder a few times. I had to stop replaying it since the video recorder is only at ten percent now. I'm only taking a few things with me. Clothes, food, water canteen, three of uncle Will's medical books, aunt Caroline's poetry journal, grandpa Charles' Julius Caesar book, and last but not least a photo of myself, Taylor, and Caesar."

Hope paused for a few minutes. I swore I heard her voice begin to waver. She was going to cry.

"I'll.. the only weapon I'm taking is uncle Will's shot gun. I taped his pistol under the coffee table, in case I don't know.. if something were to happen and I came back. I probably won't ever come back here. In this house there were good memories, but then there are bad memories. I should probably go before it gets dark. So.. thank you, for whoever read my entries and listened to my damned v-voice."

Static was the last thing I heard. Preacher and I exchanged a glance; his was full of sympathy. I wasn't sure of how I displayed my sorrow for Hope. My throat tightened as I placed the audio recorder back on the coffee table. Then I unzipped my backpack and shoved the pile of papers, and audio recorder inside. I tried not to look under the coffee table. I wasn't going to take a weapon that Hope had only placed for herself.

"That was.. Interesting," I responded with a nod towards Preacher. Never commented back as we searched throughout the rest of the house. Same awful odor, same blood stains that trailed and soaked into the rugs, the paint on the walls faded. In one of the rooms, all I found was multiple charts taped onto the walls, papers scattered all over the floor, and a few desktops. It was an office. Will Rodman's office. To study through later I stuffed more papers into my backpack, more audio recorders, and one of his journals. Someday I'm going to have to repay Preacher. I'm still in disbelief that he was kind enough to bring me here.

We never went upstairs. That could be for a different day.

I don't know how long we've been here. The hours passed in a blur. During through those last few hours, I was grateful that Preacher had brought me here. Silence had still veiled us in the whole house. I didn't have the nerve to wonder when we'll be leaving. I looked out the window. The sun remained engulfed by the darkened cloud awhile the sky wept of tears as it fell upon the ground. I shuddered at the cool breeze that swept through the shattered window. We should leave now before the storm gets worse.

By the time we've finally got to the Colony, we were soaked. Our knees covered and plastered with mud that caked upon our shoes. I was tired, and my feet were sore by the time we got home. I didn't let myself go to the apartment my family and I lived in. Preacher offered to let me stay the rest of the day at his place since it was the closest. I gladly accepted.

"So.. did you have a good time Miri?" His gaze was soft and full of warmth. My skin chilled as I shrugged off my backpack, holding only the straps.

"Of course, I still can't believe you brought me there. Thank you again, at least let me repay you..." I said quietly, standing on my toes once again and pressed my lips to his cheek. Preacher had become tense as his face flushed. Such a shy and nervous guy. For a moment, I really studied him. He had the same struggles I had, he always kept to himself as I had, always thinking of others as I had. We were both selfless, yet.. broken. I loved his soft laugh, the way he would nervously look away and become flustered. I understood him and he understood me.

"You don't need to ever repay me Miriam."

Preacher's hands stroked my hips. Slow and luxurious. I placed the palms of my hands on his chest. Feeling his biceps flex slightly.

What are you doing?

We had begun to distract each other. A moment against everything we've endured upon the world that had damned us. His lips then hovered over my neck. Before he had the chance to do anything I clutched the back of his neck and connected my lips with his. Our kiss was rough and demanding, nothing gentle of it. As if it wasn't full of love.

Miriam stop it.

A groan escaped my lips as he pressed himself closer to me. Before I knew it we were sharing each other's soul. I shut out all of the thoughts I conjured up earlier today. I wanted comfort, and he wanted comfort too.

You both are making a mistake.

I awoke the next morning. Preacher's arms were tucked around me, loose and gentle. The sunlight never came through the window as rain was still present. We were both awake and trembling. No, no, no, we couldn't have. I merely mumbled I'm sorry, forcefully shoving myself into the clothing that was scattered near his bed and picked up my backpack. Retreating out of his apartment as tears blurred my eyes. A few moments before I hurried away I heard him call out my name.

What had we done? I felt sick to myself, this was my fault. My fault, my fault, my fault.

I returned home. Greeted by my worried family, appearing to them as I had the previous morning. Aside from my reluctance to talk, I reassured them I fell asleep at a friends. Retreating to the safe haven of the personal space known as my room and closed the door. If I would have I might of locked it.

Guilt and Regret had tore through my mind. Slowly ripping my mind apart as a wolf shreds it's prey into ribbons. Out of all the people.. Hope was the first person I went to. After I told her what I done with Preacher, leaving out that we went to her old home, Hope said nothing. I was glad for that. Glad for the fact that she'll never mention it to Tanner or my father. I needed to repay Hope for keeping such a secret. She was the only one I could trust to remain silent about it.

Preacher and I have never spoken of that day. Both of us are still close it's just.. were we really desperate of such comfort that it led us to doing what we committed?

(A/N: Happy early Valentine's Day!)