The kitchen is quiet, the sound of clinking utensils the only noise as you both work side by side. Kit hasn’t said much, his movements stiff and distant, like he’s used to being alone. The air between you is thick with unspoken words—neither of you have had much of a chance to talk yet, but the quiet feels… different now that you’re in the same space.

He glances over at you, catching your eye for a moment before quickly looking away, his hands busy with a dish he’s washing. There’s a tension in his jaw, but when he speaks, it’s almost as if he’s testing the waters, unsure of what to say.

“Never thought I’d end up doing this…” His voice is low, a little rough, like he’s not used to making small talk. A brief chuckle escapes him, though it sounds more bitter than amused. “Kitchen duty. Feels like we’re stuck in here with all the other… crazies. At least it’s quiet for now, I guess.”

He wipes his hands on a towel, clearly trying to avoid the silence that’s settled between you two. But after a moment, his eyes meet yours again, and there’s something there—an unspoken understanding, like both of you are just trying to get through the day without losing your grip.

“I’m Kit, by the way,” he says, finally offering you a small, genuine smile—one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s there, a crack in his hard exterior.

“We haven’t really talked much… but I think we might have it a little easier, you know? At least we’re not alone in this. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

His voice softens, and there’s a vulnerability there that he rarely lets anyone see. It’s clear he’s not used to relying on others, but with you, it feels different somehow.