4. Fleur
4
FLEUR
T he kiss lingered in Fleur’s mind like a persistent, seductive whisper. Her mind kept going back to the feeling of Lena’s strong arms pushing against her, the firmness of Lena’s grip igniting something primal within her. The way Lena had stared at her, as if looking straight through to her soul, left Fleur breathless. It wasn’t just physical; there was something between them, something electric that left her body humming. She loved the feeling of Lena's weight, the strength of her presence, the way their bodies fit together so naturally. Fleur’s thoughts swirled, replaying that kiss over and over. She could still taste Lena on her lips, the intensity of their connection burning like an imprint on her skin. The hunger she felt hadn’t diminished; it had only grown.
She didn’t want their night to end on just that fleeting moment. Nor did she want to think about the daunting journey ahead. After tossing and turning in her sleeping bag in the old rickety bed, she started replaying their kiss over and over, and decided to take matters into her own hands.
Fleur pushed the door open quietly, hoping Lena was still awake. She was relieved to see that Lena hadn’t drifted off yet. Instead, Lena was sitting up on the couch, reading some old book she’d found lying around, her face etched with deep thought. The sight of Lena looking so lost in her own world made Fleur smile.
Fleur tiptoed to the kitchen, her footsteps barely making a sound on the creaky floor. She wasn’t sure why, but she found herself yearning for a bit of normalcy, even in this chaotic world. She rifled through the cabinets and finally spotted a dusty bottle of red wine. It wasn’t exactly practical in their current situation, but nothing about their world felt practical these days. Sometimes, she thought, you had to cling to the little luxuries just to remind yourself of what life used to be.
She grabbed two glasses, blowing away the dust, their delicate clinking the only sound in the otherwise still cabin, and fished out a corkscrew from a drawer. The old, heavy bottle seemed almost out of place among the rustic surroundings. Fleur paused for a moment, her fingers tracing the label as she contemplated the comfort it might bring.
Lena was still lost in thought as Fleur made her way back to the living room. As she approached Lena, Fleur noticed how her presence startled her.
“Hope I didn’t scare you,” Fleur teased softly as she stepped closer. “I can’t sleep.”
Lena looked up, her eyes wide and slightly disoriented, as if she had been jolted out of a trance. The flustered look on Lena’s face was almost endearing to Fleur, a stark contrast to the usually cold, business-like demeanor Lena projected.
Fleur sauntered over to the edge of the bed, her smile widening. “You looked like you were a million miles away. Mind if I join you?”
Lena’s cheeks flushed slightly as she fumbled for a response. “Uh, sure. I guess.”
She quietly set the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table. She took a deep breath and opened the bottle with a practiced twist. The pop of the cork was surprisingly loud in the stillness of the room, making her wince slightly. Fleur eased herself onto the couch beside Lena, trying to suppress a grin.
“I hope you like red. It’s all there was. I mean anything you find these days is a win, right?”
“I suppose so. I’m more of a beer person, but I guess I’d say red wine would have to come in second,” Lena admitted with a hint of playfulness.
Fleur raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Good to know. I’m always curious about what people like to drink when they’re not thinking about saving the world or fighting off zombies.”
There was a pause, and a slight tension lingered in the air before Lena asked thoughtfully, “So tell me, what do you miss most about the world before this virus took over?”
Fleur looked down at her glass, swirling the red wine thoughtfully. “What do I miss? Hm... I haven’t really allowed myself to think of that,” she said, her voice trailing off slightly. “Instead of diving too deeply into it, I’m going to tell you about the food I miss the most. That’s all I can handle to think back to most of the time.”
Lena leaned in with a small, genuine smile. “Alright, then. What’s the one thing you’d crave if you could have anything right now?”
Fleur’s eyes lit up as she responded with a playful grin. “Well, what I really miss is a McDonald’s cheeseburger meal with some large fries and a Diet Coke. Wow, I’d love that right now.”
Lena’s eyebrows shot up in mock astonishment. “McDonald’s? Really? That’s what you miss the most? And Diet Coke? I heard that stuff is terrible for you. Didn’t your fancy studies teach you anything? What about a beautiful steak or a proper home-cooked meal?”
Fleur laughed, the sound bright and carefree. “HEY! I don’t care what they say. That was my guilty pleasure after a long, grueling day. I was never really one for the high life; I just liked indulging in those simple, small joys. Let a girl be!”
Lena shook her head, smiling warmly. “I can relate to that. Sometimes it’s the little things that keep us going.”
Fleur tilted her head with a mischievous glint. “Alright, since you’ve judged my fast-food cravings, I’m expecting something truly spectacular from you. What do you miss the most?”
Lena chuckled softly. “Well, if I’m being honest... I’d say just a really really really good slice of pizza. The kind with the cheese pull that takes your breath away!”
Fleur’s eyes widened in playful mock surprise. “Pizza? Pizza, really? That’s so New York of you.”
“And McDonald’s is soooo American of you,” Lena shot back with a grin.
They both laughed, the tension from earlier conversations lifting in the air as their banter continued. It almost felt like normality. As if the world around them was back to the old days, pre-virus.
“I’m very curious though,” Fleur said, leaning in. “What made you become a firefighter? Was it your height? Did everyone tell you that you had to do this?”
Lena smirked at the jab. “Actually, I was kind of bred to do something in public services. Both my parents were involved for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh really? What did they do?”
“My father was a fire chief in my hometown, and my mother was a paramedic.”
“Wow. That does sound like you were destined to follow in your father’s footsteps. Was that something you actually wanted to do?” Fleur asked, her curiosity genuine now.
Lena considered the question for a moment, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the arm of the couch. “I don’t really know. I don’t really care. It’s what I’m good at, so I don’t regret it.”
Fleur raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Lena’s pragmatic attitude. “That’s a positive way to look at it. But did you ever have dreams outside of firefighting? Anything you wished you’d done differently?”
Lena’s gaze turned introspective as she pondered the question. “I suppose there were times when I wondered what it would have been like to pursue something else. I was always good at science, math, things like that. But I never really had the chance to explore those interests. Everything was so focused on public service and following in my parents' footsteps.”
Fleur tilted her head, reflecting on Lena’s words. “It sounds like you were shaped by a strong sense of duty and responsibility. Did you ever feel pressured to live up to that legacy?”
Lena sighed, nodding slowly. “Yes, definitely. There was always this expectation to live up to the family name. It wasn’t overtly pushed on me, but it was there, in the background. I think that’s why I didn’t really question it too much. I just fell into it.”
Fleur smiled softly, understanding the weight of inherited expectations. “I can relate to that. My own journey was quite different, but I also had expectations to meet.”
Lena’s interest was piqued. “Really? How so?”
Fleur took a deep breath, her expression becoming more reflective. “I’ve been bright from a young age. I had a thirst for knowledge that couldn’t be quenched. My parents weren’t really involved in my education. They sort of just sent me off to a school for advanced students and left me to navigate it on my own.”
“That sounds incredibly difficult. How old were you?” Lena asked, her tone both curious and empathetic.
“I was about 12 years old when they sent me away,” Fleur admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and regret.
“12? That’s insane! I can’t believe they’d do that!” Lena exclaimed, sitting up in shock. “Were you scared? Did you feel abandoned?”
Fleur nodded, her eyes distant. “At the time, it felt like I was being abandoned. I resented them deeply. But now, with everything that’s happened, I see it differently. It was a harsh path, but it shaped me into who I am today. It made me resilient and independent.”
Lena leaned forward, genuinely interested. “So, you’ve made peace with it then?”
Fleur gave a small, wistful smile. “Yes, I have. I’ve learned to appreciate the strength it gave me, even if the process was painful.”
Lena reached out, her hand brushing against Fleur’s. “I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ve had to be strong through a lot. But maybe that strength is what makes you so capable now.”
Fleur didn’t want to linger on the heavier parts of their conversation, but her curiosity about Lena remained strong. She shifted in her seat, her gaze thoughtful as she considered how to broach the subject in a way that felt natural.
“So. I can assume you don’t have a partner back in your community?” Fleur asked, her voice soft but probing.
Lena shook her head, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her wine glass. “No. Love was never really on the agenda. Not before the outbreak, not after. It felt too risky. What about you? Did you have to leave any lovers behind?”
Fleur hesitated, her gaze dropping as she took a deep breath. “I had a wife.”
Lena’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Had? What happened?”
Fleur’s expression grew somber, the pain etched into her features. “She… didn’t make it.”
Lena’s eyes softened with sympathy, her hand instinctively reaching out to touch Fleur’s arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Fleur’s gaze remained distant, the memories evidently weighing heavily on her. “It was… a long time ago, now. But it still feels like yesterday sometimes. I thought we were forever.”
Lena nodded, her own emotions swirling beneath her calm exterior. “I can only imagine how hard that must have been. Losing someone you love, especially in these times...”
Fleur let out a sigh, nostalgia and pain flickering in her eyes. “She was everything to me. My rock, my inspiration. She believed in me when no one else did. Losing her… it was like losing a part of myself.”
Lena’s fingers tightened on Fleur’s arm, offering silent support. “It sounds like she meant the world to you.”
“She did,” Fleur said softly. “And in a way, she still does. I carry her memory with me, even though it sometimes feels like a burden.”
Lena looked down, her voice reflecting her own vulnerability. “I think we all carry pieces of our past with us. It’s part of what makes us who we are.”
Fleur glanced at Lena, sensing the weight in her words. “And what about you, Lena? What’s your story? You said love wasn’t on your agenda. Did you ever want it to be?”
Lena chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I suppose I never really had the chance to explore that side of life. My focus was always on my career, on helping others. I didn’t leave much room for personal connections.”
Fleur studied Lena, her curiosity growing. “Do you ever regret that? Not having time for love?”
Lena’s expression was contemplative. “Sometimes. But I’ve made my peace with it. There are always trade-offs in life. I chose to dedicate myself to my work, to make a difference in other ways.”
Fleur nodded, understanding the sacrifice all too well. “It sounds like you’ve found fulfillment in your own way. I respect that.”
Fleur’s gaze met Lena’s. “Thank you. It’s been hard to talk about. Sometimes it feels like it’s been an eternity, and other times it feels like a stab to the heart.”
Lena nodded, her own heart aching at the thought of the loss Fleur must have endured. “It must have been incredibly difficult. Losing someone like that… I can’t even imagine. Tell me more about her.”
“Well. She was a bit like you, actually. Pragmatic. A no-nonsense type of woman.”
“She sounds like she was great.”
“Yeah, I think you two would’ve gotten along.”
They shared a quiet moment, the weight of their conversation settling between them.
“Enough about my love life and grief,” Fleur said with a wistful smile. “I’m very curious. Shouldn’t a strong, young, successful woman have a slew of lovers?”
Lena smirked, a chuckle escaping her lips. “I had lovers here and there, but when work is your life, it’s hard to maintain relationships.”
Fleur nodded, understanding all too well. “I get that. Sometimes work can take over everything, leaving little room for personal connections. It was the same with me and my wife. The more I delved into my research, the more it pulled me away from home.”
Lena’s gaze softened, recognizing the familiarity in Fleur’s words. “It’s a double-edged sword, isn’t it? You strive to achieve greatness, to make a difference, and yet it often comes at the expense of the people you care about.”
Fleur sighed, her eyes distant. “Exactly. I wanted to make vaccines accessible to everyone. But in the process, I lost sight of what mattered most in my personal life. It’s a sacrifice I made willingly, but that doesn’t mean it was easy.”
Lena looked happy to have someone understand her and Fleur felt the same.
Lena leaned back, her expression contemplative. “It’s a tough balance. Sometimes it feels like no matter how much you give to your work, it’s never quite enough. And in the end, you’re left with the echoes of the sacrifices you made.”
Fleur looked at Lena with a newfound respect. “And yet, here you are, still pushing forward. It’s admirable, really.”
Lena shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “We all do what we can to make a difference. It’s not always easy, but it’s what keeps us going.”
“Well, at least right now we’ve got each other to rely on. In a world like this, that’s something to hold onto. I’m grateful you’re escorting me. I wouldn’t have pushed if I didn’t believe in it.”
Lena nodded, her smile growing more genuine. “You’re welcome. And absolutely. Here’s to making the most of what we have and finding strength in unexpected places.”
They clinked their glasses in a moment of understanding, each drawing comfort from the connection they were beginning to build. As the night unfolded, their conversation continued.
“So. Gene. That guy is a piece of work,” Fleur muttered, swirling the wine in her glass, flicking out a bit of dirt she’d missed.
Lena raised an eyebrow. “Oh, he’s not that bad once you get to know him. He’s just high-strung, is all.”
Fleur shook her head. “He said some... interesting things to me after you left. It kind of left a bad taste in my mouth.”
Lena leaned in. “What did he say?”
Fleur hesitated for a second before speaking. “He said that humans are now just mindless zombies.”
Lena’s eyes widened. “He said what?”
“That’s not all,” Fleur continued, taking a small sip of her wine. “He also mentioned that if there was a cure, people would be angry at scientists.”
Lena frowned, confusion settling on her face. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone be angry at the people trying to save them?”
“That’s what I said. But now it’s got me wondering,” Fleur admitted, her voice trailing off. There was a seed of doubt in her tone, one that was hard to shake.
Lena placed a hand on Fleur’s arm, reassuring her. “Don’t think about what he says too much. Gene likes to get a rise out of people. Especially people who intimidate him. And a strong, intelligent woman like you? That must scare the hell out of him. Most guys can’t handle it.”
Fleur let out a soft, mirthless laugh. “I’ve met men like him before. They think they’re smarter than everyone else, and they get defensive when they feel threatened, especially by women with something to say.”
“Exactly,” Lena agreed. “Gene’s the type to talk big, but when push comes to shove, he folds. Don’t let him get under your skin.”
Fleur sighed. “I know. I just... I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to,” Lena said, her voice soft yet firm. “You just have to trust me.”
“How are you strong enough to trust in this world?” Fleur asked, her voice carrying concern. “When so many people are after power? So many people are willing to step on others to get even just a sliver of it?”
Lena’s gaze grew thoughtful, her expression serious. “If I were to dwell on those fears and suspicions all the time, it would make me a terrible, paranoid leader. You can’t lead effectively if you’re constantly second-guessing everyone around you. True leadership requires a degree of trust, even in a world that’s broken. Without it, you risk becoming a tyrant or losing the support of those you rely on.”
Fleur leaned in slightly, her eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and skepticism. “But isn’t it dangerous? You’re putting yourself out there, exposing a vulnerable side. How do you manage the balance?”
Lena’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “It is dangerous. Every leader faces that risk. But trust is also a way of showing strength. It’s a gamble, but it’s a gamble worth taking. If you can’t extend trust, you end up isolating yourself. And in times like these, isolation can be just as dangerous as betrayal. I don’t usually answer this many questions, you know, you’re lucky!”
Fleur couldn’t understand Lena’s trust in others. It felt foreign, almost reckless, to her. Fleur had been burned too many times, each betrayal and loss chipping away at her faith in people. She had learned to rely on herself, to keep her guard up. But watching Lena, with her unwavering belief that people could be better, stirred something in Fleur. It was as if Lena saw the world through a different lens, one where humanity wasn’t doomed to repeat its mistakes.
Lena finished her glass, setting it down with a quiet clink. “I think we should turn in. We need our strength, and we gotta start early tomorrow.”
Fleur nodded, a small sigh escaping her. “You’re right. Are you sure the couch will be comfortable, though?”
“I’ve slept on worse for the past three years. This feels like a feather bed compared to what I’ve been sleeping on,” Lena replied with a smirk.
“Okay. Well, suit yourself,” Fleur said, though a part of her was tempted to offer Lena her bed instead. She knew better than to complicate things.
As she wandered back into her room, the quiet between them seemed heavier now, filled with the weight of everything they had shared. After their conversation, Fleur couldn’t help but feel closer to Lena.
It was unexpected, this connection she had found. She had opened up to Lena in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to in years, and in return, she’d glimpsed a side of Lena she hadn’t anticipated. The layers of cold, business-like demeanor peeled back, revealing someone who still trusted others despite all the reasons not to. Fleur admired that, even envied it a little.
Settling into bed, Fleur found her mind wandering to Lena, to their conversations, to the gentle fire between them. She had thought of Lena as distant, hardened by the years of leading and fighting, but now she saw the softness beneath, the optimism, the belief in people. It made her heart stir in a way she hadn’t expected.
She didn’t want to think about what the future might hold, didn’t want to complicate things further. But now, with the silence of the night pressing in, she couldn’t help it. Could this, whatever it was between them, be more? Or was it just the circumstances, this apocalyptic world pushing them together? Fleur’s thoughts swirled as she drifted off, Lena’s presence lingering in her mind long after the room went dark.