Chapter Text
Wounds Deeper Than Flesh
Chapter One
It had been three years since this whole undead apocalypse shit show first began. One year since you had been separated from your family and the group of survivors the lot of you had found yourselves in. You had been on a routine supply run with a handful of others in your group when you were ambushed by a group of bandits. Hiding had helped you to survive the chaos, but most of your friends had all been stabbed or shot. The beat-up campervan your group used to go on supply runs had been stolen, leaving you alone and stranded.
It took a full day’s walk for you to circle back to your group’s camp one town over. By the time you had arrived the entire place had been looted and raised to the ground. The bodies of your family members had not been among the dead, or among the faces of the walkers that dotted the area, leaving your thoughts to war within you to think of their possible outcomes. Had they escaped only to be mauled by walkers? Captured by those bandits? Or had they all somehow hide themselves like you had only to search aimlessly in who knows what direction for one another? Searching for you, and for a place with four walls to bed down for the night to forget that today had happened.
When you arrived at the camp blood had been everywhere, and while your lost friends deserved a proper burial you didn’t have the energy to dig so many graves. All you had was a small backpack with some supplies and a single bottle of water. No food at all. You waited all of three days for any sign of your family in case they retraced their steps and came back for you. But now you were tired and hungry, and with your camp’s fence damaged it was too risky to linger for a rest with walkers trickling in, especially when those lowlifes could still be in the area.
With no idea what direction your family or friends had run off to, you knew the chances of ever seeing them again were slim to none. You hoped they were out there somewhere, safe and alive at least. But you knew the safest thing for you to do right now was to move on. Find food, and shelter, and avoid walkers and bandits at all costs if possible. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, a now empty bottle of water, a half-loaded gun, and your knife. A year on your own had hardened you. The crippling loneliness and the constant fear of everything that lived - and didn’t live - to kill you. Starvation, exposure to the elements, being mauled by wild animals, or a herd of walkers, or jumped by bandits. Of never finding your family again. Of dying alone.
Today found you in the hardly touched suburbs of a well-off neighborhood. You had dwelled in the area for the past week, stockpiling whatever food and supplies you could find for the coming winter. Your chosen base of operations was the tallest house on the corner with the best view of the street. The walkers had been few but manageable as you quietly tore through each room of every house, with few interactions that couldn’t be solved by stealth or a knife to their skulls. Your blade had been growing dull lately, chipped in a few places but still usable for now. One more skull away from breaking entirely. You had a separate pocket knife specifically for food and not rotting walker brains.
You were on the hunt for the usual necessities. Food, ammunition, medical supplies, flashlights, and batteries. Only one of the houses had to be cleared of walkers, the rest on the street mercifully empty save for a raccoon you caught digging through a trash can as it scavenged for food. So far you hadn’t found another hunting knife to replace your own, wondering if the rich people who once occupied this neighborhood were too busy partying on their yachts to bother with camping or survival skills. You also were in desperate need for a new pair of boots, as your current ones were now so worn out they had holes in the soles of them. Sneakers usually didn’t do as well in muddy terrain or puddles. Surely one of these houses contained more than once overpriced women’s heels. Shift, at this point you would be happy to find a sturdy pair of men’s boots if they fit you well enough.
It was autumn now and the days were growing colder. The first few nights in your house of choice had been tolerable, but you decided to spend the latter half of the day collecting firewood. Best to build up a stash of it now while the weather is still relatively mild. The house on the corner you had picked had a massive fireplace in both the living room on the first floor and one in the master bedroom upstairs as well. The last few days had been thankfully sunny, but with the threat of rain clouds on the horizon, you figured it was best to collect as much wood as you can while everything was still dry.
You picked out pine trees thin enough to chop down and haul back to your new temporary home, occasionally pausing in your chopping to take out a walker or two who had been drawn in by the noise. You stuffed the wood into a duffel bag and hauled a few trips worth of the wood back to the living room to pile up neatly in the dining room attached to the living room. It also occurred to you that any now useless furniture could now also be burnt if the weather took a shit turn and you didn’t feel like going out and collecting more wood. Things had been peaceful since you had arrived in this neighborhood, and you wondered if it was worth building a fence around the street and claiming the territory as your own. Perhaps you would, if you were able to scavenge enough food to last you the winter. The few animals you had managed to shoot you didn’t have any idea how to skin and cook, even if you had the stomach for it.
It was honestly shocking how much food these wealthy bastards had hoarded and how little survival gear they had opted not to bother with. Other than a few wrecked cars and the occasional walker, this neighborhood was virtually untouched. A goldmine for a loner like you with no hunting skills. After a few hours of chopping wood like some lumberjack, you were dripping in sweat, hands blistered from the ax and muscles already screaming, hunger blooming in your now rumbling gut. You tucked your newly acquired ax into your duffel bag piled with firewood and shrugged it over one shoulder, wanting nothing more than to warm some soup over a hot fire and clean yourself with a wet cloth.
You still needed a winter coat and a sturdy pair of boots. The other day you happened upon the bedroom of what you could only assume was a teenage girl’s room whose clothes were about your size. You lifted a pair of gloves and scored a few new outfits warmer than what you currently owned. It had been an effort to stop wondering if she and her family were still alive. Right now it was all you could do to keep yourself afloat.
The other day you managed to find two cases of bottled water. It took two trips to haul them from the neighboring house back to base camp but you were ecstatic. Water was a precious find these days. There was a stream of water running behind one of the homes at the edge of the neighborhood a little ways into the woods. You had been hauling buckets of it back to your new house to boil and to cook with. Each day you cleaned yourself off with a wet cloth, sometimes dunking your head in the cool water to wash your hair. Afterwards, you would make yourself some dinner and get some sleep while it was still daylight. It always seemed safer to sleep during the day. Sometimes the walkers grew so active at night you feared one might manage to break into the house.
Today you had cleared out a new house full of a family full of walkers. After taking them all out your knife finally gave out so you had been forced to use a kitchen knife to kill the last two. After dragging their bodies outside so you wouldn’t have to smell their rotting corpses, you tried not to think about the rings on the mother and father turned into walkers. Of their teenaged daughter and toddler son who had each come at you to rip you apart. On the walls around you were photos of their family when they were all still alive and beautiful. You sat down on their living room couch and cried until you were ready to press on through their house for supplies.
The teenage girl and mother’s room had given you the coat you had wanted, as well as a pair of boots. They were a cheap pair of combat boots more fit for style than for durability but they would do for now. You found a thick brown leather fur-lined coat in the mother’s room. Now if you could just find yourself a good hunting knife or a machete you would be set. Once you raided their kitchen pantry for canned goods you filled up a few bags and made several trips between this home and your own. Satisfied with your progress for today you decided that this duffel bag of food will be your last. After a morning of chopping wood in the cold, killing four walkers, and thoroughly stripping an entire house of all of its remaining food, you were exhausted and starving.
A pink stuffed bunny sat atop a pile of pillows on the forever unmade teenage girl’s bed, and while it felt a little wrong to lift it the weaker part of you couldn’t help it. You missed passing out in a pile with your friends and family by the fire at night, waking up, and always having someone warm beside you to assure you that you were not alone. As this comfort had been stolen away from you, along with so many other things, a stuffed bunny would have to do. Even before everything went to hell you slept with a stuffed animal, despite being a grown woman in her twenties. But now you were traumatized and alone so no one would be able to judge you for it.
Stuffed pink bunny in tow, you shouldered your now stuffed duffel bag with a good amount of effort, as it was filled to the brim with cans of food and bags of things like pasta and rice. It was heavy as hell, and you knew it would take more than a few minutes to make the walk back to your claimed house. If a walker came around you would have to set the bag down to take care of it. So far, though, the few walkers in the area were off in the distance somewhere out of sight, so as long as you kept quiet you shouldn’t have any encounters with them. You hoped this little suburb was safe, free of bandits, and with enough food to last you until spring.
Feeling accomplished, you decide to take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow you could continue raiding each house and take a break from chopping firewood until you were less sore. Right now all you wanted was to clean up, make yourself a hot meal, and take a long nap. Sleeping in new environments has always been difficult for you and it took a full week to get you used to your new home. Sleeping during the day just felt safer, especially when the house creaked in the wind and the walkers got rowdy at night and bumped into the house. Even with your daily cat naps, you knew you were hardly sleeping enough to be considered healthy.
Groggily, you left the family home and headed towards your own. Your arms and back were sore as hell from chopping wood all morning and hauling supplies to and from your house all week. You were cold, tired, and aching. Yeah, you were taking tomorrow off. Sleep in, eat all day, heaven.
Just as you thought you were in the clear, you turned a corner, coming face to face with the rotting corpse of a walker as it lunged at you. Stumbling back in terror you fell backwards onto your ass and hastily crawled away from the thing, not once turning your back to it. You screamed as it threw itself upon you, and it took all of your strength to push back against its chest with one arm while your free hand fumbled desperately for your knife. The only thing running through your head was the gut-wrenching knowledge that you would die out here, alone as this walker ripped you apart until you died from shock or blood loss, feeling every bite it took-
A crunching sound met your ears, and all at once the walker was hauled off of you, a knife that was not yours pierced cleanly through its rotting skull.
And there they were. Two men around your age - each of them at least a foot taller than you. One with spiked red hair and one with dark purple, both of their eyes widening as much as yours likely were.
You reacted first, taking the initiative and slipping out from your duffel in one swift motion before bolting for your life. Instinctively the two had reached for the guns on their belts, hands dropping back to their sides once they realized you weren’t on the offensive. They called out for you and pleaded for you to wait, but you didn’t know these two men or what they were capable of. Didn’t want to stop and chat at the risk of them turning on you like those bandits had. You didn’t dare turn back to your base camp where all of your supplies were located lest you lead those men right to them. For now, all you could do was kill time somewhere and pray they didn’t discover which house you were occupying. If they decided to camp out in one of the houses on the street you prayed they didn’t choose to linger for more than one night.
You hid in the woods for the next several hours, only emerging after sunset once your body was half frozen from the cold. You had gotten careless out here since there were so few walkers it had been easy to take them down or avoid them altogether. If not for those two strangers you would probably be dead right now. You had only granted yourself a few heartbeats to take in the two men before you ran away in terror.
The one with spiked red hair had been built like a linebacker, and the one with tired purple eyes had been leaner but just as tall. The two guys had been jacked, and even from a glance you only came up to their chests. If either man got their hands on you it would have been over. When you eventually risked returning to your home base you were horrified to discover your duffel bag perched neatly on your porch, a note tucked neatly beneath the door. Snatching it out from beneath the heavy metal door knocker, you stuffed it into your shirt.
Gun raised, your eyes hastily scanned the surrounding area from the raised front porch. When you found nothing amiss save for a few walkers dotting the street, you set off to clear the rest of the house room by room, gun still raised, until you were positive no one was dwelling in there with you. You locked every window and door, closing all the curtains before finally returning to the living room to find that your food, supplies, and firewood had been mercifully left untouched. Suppressing the urge to pace the house, you eventually worked up the courage to open the note and read it.
‘Hi? We are sorry that we scared you so badly earlier today. My name is Kirishima (the one with the red hair) and my friend is Shinsou. We found your food and supplies and we promise we have not taken anything. We wish you no harm. We left you a walkie in your backpack if you would like to talk to us. I already set it to channel two. P.S. Your bunny is cute. We saw it in your pack when we left you the walkie.’
You didn’t know where to begin, but embarrassment over the stuffed animal aside, you knew that the walkie only had about a half-mile range or so. It unnerved you that they still might be in the area, but they did pull that walker off of you back there. You had been so certain that they would be bad people you got the hell out of there before giving them the chance to show you they might be good people after all. They could have robbed you blind while you were out in the woods having an existential crisis but they didn’t. …And they had returned your bunny. After debating your options you decided to risk saying hello, happy that you would be able to do so in a locked house. After fighting the urge to pack another bag and flee to another town altogether, you summoned the courage to grab the walkie and switch it on before your anxiety not to do so won the battle.
“Are you guys still out there?” you worked up the nerve to ask. After a tense few seconds, the walkie cracked to life. You must have been on edge, too, because the moment it did you flinched like someone had hit you.
“We are!” confirmed the hopeful voice of a man through the static. “I’m Kirishima, and my friend here is Shinsou.” Another pause and the other man muttered a polite hello, not sounding rude at all but more introverted than his companion which you appreciated.
“...I’m L/N,” you offered simply. “Thank you for saving me from that walker, and not stealing from me. Sorry for running like that. The last group I ran into tried to shoot me on site, so forgive me for being…cautious.”
“Aw, that’s awful. I’m really sorry that happened to you,” the redhead spoke again with genuine sympathy. “We’re out here gathering supplies just like you are. No violent intentions to be found here.”
The other man, Shinsou, spoke next. “It probably doesn’t mean much coming from two strangers, but we mean you no harm.”
“...Thanks,” you tried. “I got separated from my family over a year ago when a bunch of bandits attacked. It’s just me. I found plenty of food in this suburb so I parked here about a week ago. Trying to build up a stash of food for winter and fortify the place the best I can. Is it just you two out here?”
Shinsou and Kirishima shared a glance, and Shinsou must have come to the same conclusion because he took the walkie from Kirishima and answered you just as honestly. “We have a group but they aren’t with us. Kirishima and I are out on a supply run.”
“Looking for anything specific or just the usual necessities?” you asked them through the white noise. “I’ve been inside every house on this street at least once already. The only two I haven’t tackled yet are the blue and brown houses at the end of the street. Watch out for walkers if you go in those. I haven’t cleared them yet.”
“The usual stuff,” Kirishima confirmed. “But we’re mainly out here for antibiotics. Last year almost half of our group came down with the flu and we didn’t have enough medicine for everyone.”
“Check the white house with the black window shutters,” you offered. “I think it belonged to an elderly couple. There were walking canes by the front door and the master bedroom had one of those hospital beds that folds up and down. The master bathroom had tons of medications in there I didn’t recognize. Maybe check there first.”
Kirishima looked at Shinsou who seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Let’s invite her over for a meal. She seems like a decent person.”
“As much as I want to be the voice of reason here, I have to agree with you on this one,” Shinsou admitted.
But it was you who beat them to the punch. “As the two of you have already seen, I have plenty of food over here,” your smooth voice crackled over the walkie. “Nothing fancy, but you’re both welcome to come over for a meal. I…could use some positive human interaction. Walkers aren’t great conversationalists.”
“We appreciate that, thanks,” Kirishima said gratefully, and you could feel his smile through the device. “Can we come over now?”
You hesitated but told them that it was fine.
Switching the walkie off, you quickly busied yourself brushing the dirt off your jacket and pants, fruitlessly attempting to smooth down your tangled hair. You doubted you looked presentable and all at once you prayed you did not smell after a day lugging heavy bags of supplies around the neighborhood. Your hair likely resembled a rat's nest, with deep purple bags under your eyes. Suddenly you felt awkward wearing the too big clothes you had found in one of the houses because they had looked comfy. A few minutes later they were knocking politely on your door as if it were actually your house. After tucking your gun into your jeans - just in case - you verified that it was them through the peephole of the front door and not indeed a stray walker. With a deep breath, you slowly opened the door.
You steeled your nerves, trying desperately not to look as meek as you currently felt. You took each of them in.
Kirishima with his long red hair tied back in a low ponytail with a little spike in his bangs. It was hard to tell if he brushed it that way or if it just grew like that. He had huge, thick arms and legs rippling with muscles bulging through his clothes, but he didn’t have any fat on him. He was just big. But the softness in his eyes and the gentle smile he gave you spoke volumes. Beneath all that strength he appeared to be a gentle giant.
Shinsou with his tired eyes but relaxed demeanor looked intrigued but also bored, as if he could fall asleep right now if you offered him a place to sleep. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to act docile in an effort not to intimidate you or if this was just how he was. Leaner but still muscular, probably faster than someone Kirishima’s size. He also looked kind, standing a few paces behind his friend on the porch steps so they wouldn’t box you in.
Immediately you felt guilty for gawking at them, but by the way their eyes roamed over you it was obvious that they were taking you in as well. You imagined your hair all messed up despite your efforts, the deep bruises from lack of sleep blooming under your eyes. You were only five feet tall. Maybe you looked like a child to them.
“Sorry,” you apologized for your awkward silence, immediately feeling intimidated by their height. “You two are a lot taller up close.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Kirishima said gently. “I doubt I’d be as brave as you sharing my current home and food with two new people.” You stepped aside to welcome them inside, words failing you for a moment as you fought for something intelligent or useful to say.
“I’m freezing,” you said as you closed the door behind them and gestured to the neatly stacked cans of food in the dining room. “I can start a fire while you two decide what you want to eat.”
“Leave the fire to us,” Kirishima offered generously. “You were out there for a long time because we startled you.”
“We’ll eat whatever you make,” Shinsou promised gratefully.
“Thank you. I’m going to change in one of the rooms upstairs real quick. I did a lot of work today so I’ve sweat a bit,” you gestured to the impressive stack of firewood tucked neatly in the corner of the living room by the fireplace. “My hands are pretty blistered from the ax so I need to take care of that, too.”
“Would you like any help?” Kirishima offered without thinking, and Shinsou smacked his friend lightly against the back of the head to make him realize what he just insinuated. Kirishima’s eyes widened comically and he hastily added, “Help you with your blisters! Not getting changed!”
You laughed at the redhead's innocence. “I knew what you meant, but I’ve got it. Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
And in case they were worried about letting you out of their sight, you slowly unholstered your gun from your belt and left it on the low coffee table in the living room. Their eyes widened at the amount of trust you had just given them, leaving Kirishima and Shinsou speechless as you took their silence as the opportunity to escape upstairs. Kirishima waited to speak once you were out of earshot.
“I think the others would like her,” Kirishima announced confidently.
“Are you sure you aren’t just pitying her?” Shinsou reasoned. “It’s clear she has a lot of trust issues, understandably.”
“She left her gun down here with us,” Kirishima defended. “She’s feeding us. She seems like a kind person despite everything she must have been through out here.”
“We can ask her after dinner. But don’t go making her any promises. Everyone still needs to vote on it,” Shinsou caved when he remembered the plush pink bunny in her duffel bag, and how she had taken one look at two tall men and shrunk back in fear as if they would jump her at any moment. “But she may not say yes. Would you run off into the woods with two strange men you didn’t know?”
“...Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kirishima admitted sadly.
Upstairs, you had wiped away your sweat with a damp washcloth and changed. You donned a thick pair of gray sweats and a black long-sleeved shirt and a fresh pair of socks. You didn’t typically wear a bra to bed but decided to pull on a sports bra since you suddenly had company. The last thing you wanted was to advertise your assets or look sloppy.
You returned downstairs and smiled awkwardly at both of them to be polite, darting off into the kitchen and retrieving a few pots and pans, oblivious to Kirishima and Shinsou silently checking you out. They didn’t know how you would react to themselves and their immediate friend group being in an open relationship with one another, or even your stance on same-sex partnerships for that matter. Maybe if you decided you wanted to come back with them and if their group allows you to stay with them. Only then would Shinsou and Kirishima consider breaking the news to you. There were a few relationships within their group like their own, and it was anyone’s guess if you would be tolerant of that sort of thing or not.
“We can do rice and beans or maybe a few of those canned soups,” you told them both once you returned to the living room. The two of them had already started a small fire and were now arranging the coals so you could place a pot over them to heat the food. “I also have some ramen packets around here somewhere if you guys want something a little faster.”
“Soup sounds amazing right now,” Kirishima practically drooled. You smiled at his enthusiasm.
“Pick out what you like and I can heat it for us,” you agreed.
Shinsou stood up to examine your food stash, reading off a few options that the three of you voted on. Once the coals had heated you produced a can opener from your duffel bag and attempted to open the soups with an embarrassing amount of difficulty. It was then that Shinsou noticed the bandages dotting your hands and remembered your blisters, offering to open the cans for you. Sheepishly, you allowed him to help you, not used to asking for help it seemed. He wondered if it was because you had been on your own for so long you were used to doing everything on your own. With no one around you were not accustomed to having others around to seek help with anything. He wondered if you were trying to look self-sufficient by refusing to ask for their help. Shinsou hated the way these thoughts made his heart clench in his chest.
Dinner went well enough, and it was clear to them that you were trying to keep a polite conversation going for their sake. They wondered if you would have been quieter in your demeanor had you been more comfortable with them. But then you made an offer that had them both reeling - not from the offer but from where their minds went when you said it.
“Would you both like to stay the night?” you offered seemingly out of nowhere and Kirishima almost choked on his soup. “Obviously, not in the same room or anything. This house is massive. There’s another fireplace upstairs we can light in the master bedroom. The couch down here pulls out into a bed if you two don't mind sharing.”
“That would be amazing, thank you,” Shinsou accepted, speaking up while Kirishima fought to pick up his haw from the floor.
“Just be sure to keep the curtains closed and to keep it down. The light from the fire and any noise attracts walkers,” you warned them politely. “I’m admittedly pretty sore from chopping all that wood today so I think I’m gonna turn in for the night. It was nice meeting you both. You’re welcome to stay for breakfast before you head out tomorrow.”
An offer and another warning, telling them that while L/N was kind enough to offer them shelter for the night and nothing more. They did need to get back to the others tomorrow anyway. But now they found someone they didn’t know how to leave behind.
“We can tell our people about you,” Kirishima began and Shinsou looked at you before nodding in agreement. “No promises, but if everyone takes a vote and accepts you then you can join our group.”
Something darkened your eyes then, all hope bleeding from your face. “As much as I would love not to be alone anymore…I doubt any of your friends will allow it. I have nothing to offer them apart from general labor. I can barely hunt, and I’m pretty subpar with a gun,” you critically assessed yourself. “I also…have a lot of health issues. Sometimes the fatigue and pain can be so severe I can’t move for a few days. I’m at best half of a worker since my fatigue is so unpredictable. If your group integrated me in with them I would just be another mouth to feed. All I’d be good for is wasting your resources.”
They were taken aback by how critically and negatively you assessed yourself, as if being a little weaker made you less of an asset, or made you less worthy of friends and food and safety. They were disheartened by how dejected you suddenly looked. It was as if you refused to entertain the idea of their friends accepting you into their group.
“What sort of health issues?” Kirishima immediately said worriedly, standing from the couch to meet you where you stood at the foot of the stairs. “And you could never be a waste of resources. We don’t just take anyone in. You genuinely seem like a good person. And even if you were not able-bodied you still deserve safety and companionship.”
“I know if the others met you they would see what we see,” Shinsou assured you as he came to stand before you as well. “We also have a doctor that might be able to help you.”
“...You can ask your friends if you want,” you turned to head upstairs. Kirishima gently grabbed your wrist and it took every bit of your self-control not to flinch away from the contact. He was taken aback by how slender yours was in comparison with his own.
“What sort of health issues?” Kirishima asked again more gently.
“I have a lot of fertility issues that have triggered some unwanted symptoms,” you told Kirishima without allowing yourself to be ashamed. “I was expecting surgery before the walkers happened and was unable to go through with it in the end after the pandemic spread. My periods are so painful they can be debilitating. The pain sometimes leaves me sobbing, and no amount of painkillers helps. Sometimes I can’t sleep because of it, and the pain from my cramps leaves me super nauseous. Unless your doctor can safely knock me out and perform the operation I need, I doubt there is much they can do for me”
“We are going to tell them about you,” Shinsou reiterated determinedly. “And neither one of us will take no for an answer from any of them. I know for a fact that the girls would love you.”
“Do whatever you want,” you told Shinsou quietly when you didn’t know how to process their unexpected kindness. All of this attention just made you want to escape upstairs. You prayed they didn’t think you were being rude.
“Goodnight.”
“Wait,” Kirishima still kept an easy hold on your wrist.
He looked into your eyes and gauged your unspoken consent before ever so slowly pulling you into a warm hug that felt like safety. After sensing that Kirishima was indeed a gentleman, you timidly hugged him back. He kept his hands politely on your waist and back and no lower the entire time. Once Kirishima pulled away you were surprised again when Shinsou took his friend's place and hugged you as well, his body feeling just as solid and warm as Kirishima’s. They both had a masculine musk to them, like sandalwood and pine and it made you miss your dad. You didn’t let go and neither did Shinsou, and then you started crying. Kirishima had walked around you both to rub at your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you, but not too close in case you got claustrophobic.
“We won’t do anything to hurt you,” Kirishima told you resolutely. “You’re free to stay down here with us tonight. We can fold the couch out and you can sleep on the other end of the couch,” he offered.
You nodded and mumbled yes into Shinsou’s collarbone but loud enough that they heard it. Shinsou guided you to the couch and sat beside you as you clung onto him like a lifeline, not daring to let go of you until you had calmed down or you let go of him first. Kirishima pulled out the bed from the couch, then disappeared upstairs to look for some blankets. You didn’t speak again until the three of you had settled into your respective sleeping arrangements, exhaustion from the day finally hitting you as you drifted off first.
When you woke up later during the night you discovered your pink stuffed bunny tucked under your arm.