Day 100
Eve
There are all kinds of things that people don’t usually consider when they’re looking for a home, but unfortunately for us, we’ll have to. There are too many threats we need to stay safe from, and for once, I’m thankful for my hyperactive mind, because it might be what saves us from dying.
“I’m making a list,” I declare over breakfast the following morning.
“Of what kind?” Adam’s eyes dart to my open journal on the dining table. We’re squatting in an empty house again, somewhere in Rhode Island, I think.
“Things we’ll need to consider when we’re looking for a place to stay.” I flick through the pages until I find it. I only added a few items so far, but my brain is already buzzing with ideas for additions.
“Hit me.”
I clear my throat before reading it out to him.
Power plants
Access to clean drinking water
Earthquake + tsunami + hurricane areas
Farmable land
“It’s just a rough list,” I preface. “I’ll deep dive into it later, really specify certain things, like what ‘farmable land’ actually means—”
“I think I’m more worried about the natural disasters.” He seems uneasy. “What did you mean by that?”
“Well, if we want to better our chances of survival, we need to eliminate risks.” I sip my tea as I reply, imagining a map of the states in my head.
“A place inland to avoid the risks of floods and tsunamis. An area that’s not prone to hurricanes or monsoons.
I don’t remember the placement of tectonic plates that well, but anything that’s on the border of those would also be risky in case of an earthquake.
” He just stares at me. “Oh, and power plants. That might be harder to find information on, but we’ll have to research properly—not just electricity plants but also nuclear ones, to make sure we stay away from them.
They’ll collapse eventually without maintenance, and we want to be far away from them when that happ—”
His lips crash into mine and swallow the rest of my words whole.
I’m stunned for so long that I don’t return the kiss, and he pulls back, his face a whirlwind of emotions. He opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t let him.
I pull him to me with a fistful of his shirt, our mouths clashing once more, and this time I make sure not to let go until we’re both gasping for air, until my lips ache from his teeth and I’ve memorized the feel of his mouth with my tongue.
“I want you,” he says urgently, his hands wrapping around my waist. His fingers on my skin are like tiny bolts of lightning. “It’s been so long, and I’ve wanted you all this time—”
“Me too,” I whine into his lips. “Let’s just—”
He lifts me to the countertop effortlessly, and my legs wrap around him, thoughts escaping me the moment he rubs his hardness into the apex of my thighs.
“Fuck,” he groans when I rake my nails against his shoulders.
“Are we really doing this?” His voice is raspy and desperate against my throat, where he’s ceaselessly biting and kissing, over and over.
“Yes?” I don’t mean for it to turn into a question. Does he not want to?
“I need to know you won’t push me away,” his fingers sink into my waist, stopping me from grinding into him, and I whine in frustration. “Eve,” he insists.
“What,” I groan.
He tugs at my hair, forcing my head back until I’m looking him in the eyes.
“If I push inside you right now,” he speaks evenly, and even though his eyes are dark, I can tell he’s not trying to dirty-talk. He’s serious. “I’m not letting it end like last time.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie through my teeth.
“No second thoughts.” His gaze is like a dagger pinning me down, and I can’t help but stare back at the weapon that traps me. “You need to be sure that you want this.”
“I want you,” I insist, gripping his shirt, trying to use the bunched-up fabric as leverage to pull him to me.
“All of it.” He’s relentless. “The aftermath, too.”
My mouth opens and shuts, and my mind, which was just hazy with desire, clears just enough for me to remember him pressing me into soft grass, my own voice asking, you really want to risk it?
“Because I want all of it. This.” His palm drags down my throat toward my breasts, and two breaths hitch simultaneously when he grabs a handful of me.
“Fuck, I want it. I want you.” He sounds deranged and there’s not a single doubt in my mind that he’s telling the truth.
“But not at the price of you freaking out later.”
“I—” It’s an attempt to lie again, but it dies on my lips. I can’t just disregard his words because I’m horny.
Fuck, it physically hurts to realize he’s right.
“I wish it could have just been sex,” I whisper and swallow, hard, with his eyes still trained on mine. “It would have been so much simpler, wouldn’t it?”
His huff is devoid of any humor. His hand still cups the back of my neck. “I don’t think it’s ever been simple.” The words are gruff. “Us.”
No, it hasn’t.
“I don’t think I’ll regret it,” I say truthfully, biting my lip. “But I… I want this to be healthy. Normal.” I shake my head with grim amusement the moment the word leaves my lips. “I don’t want to just… use you as a stress reliever.”
I look for any signs in his face that I’m scaring him off, that this is too serious, too much too soon, but I don’t find any. Instead, there’s encouragement. Understanding. And maybe agreement, too.
“I want what we have to last.” I finally dare to say it, words evading me as to what I truly mean by that. “I want us.”
For a single heartbeat, he’s silent. That beat lasts a lifetime. It’s the first time one of us has said it. It’s not a big declaration of love or a defining of our commitment, but it’s clear to both of us just the same.
“Exactly,” he speaks the single word with acceptance, and a somewhat-sad smile.
I don’t have time to decipher that crook of his lips before he steps back from between my legs, his hands leaving my body, offering one out to help me off the counter. I accept it, even though a part of me is still screaming to touch him in much dirtier ways than a handhold.
“So, taking it slow,” he offers once I’m on my feet. We’re still closer than we usually are, standing almost chest to chest in the quiet kitchen.
“I guess.” I lean into him, just a little, and try not to whine and beg for more when his thumb brushes my cheek. “Until we’ll figure it out, at least.” I sigh instead, closing my eyes and letting the soft sensation linger.
It feels so cold when we finally break apart.
I tell myself it’s necessary. It’s the smart thing to do.
I hate it already.