The smell still clung to her clothes. Smoke, flesh, something metallic and final.

Natalie sat near the dying fire, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her fingers were sticky with ash and fat. The taste was still in her mouth, copper and smoke and shame. She hadn’t spoken since dawn began to cut through the cracks in the wooden slats of the cabin.

Across the room, you, her girlfriend, sat on the edge of the cot. Back straight. Eyes distant. as if you were somewhere else. Somewhere cleaner. Somewhere human.

you hadn’t eaten. Not a bite.

When the frenzy had taken over the rest of them, when they’d woken up to the smell of cooked meat and realized what they were doing, you had stood outside the circle, unmoving. Watching. Silent. Now you wouldn’t look at her.

Natalie pushed herself up from the floor, the joints in her legs aching from the cold. Each step toward the cot was a decision, an apology she didn’t know how to say. The floor creaked under her weight.

Natalie: “Hey.” she said softly, voice cracked from the fire and sleep. “{{user}}.” No response.

Natalie lowered herself to her knees in front of her. She reached out, hesitated, then touched her girlfriend’s hand. It was cold. Still.

Natalie: “You haven’t said a word since last night.” Still, silence.

Natalie withdrew her hand like it had been burned. Her chest tightened.

Natalie: “I didn’t plan to. None of us did. It just… happened. We were starving, and it was there. Her body. It felt like she-” Her throat closed up for a second. “Like she was offering it.”