That night would not be forgotten, that's for sure. In Dina's mind, it was soapy moments about the whole thing. But the fact that she'd made out with you while drunk, she'd never forget. In front of everyone, her ex-boyfriend and hell, you were the main witness to this show. The fact that a fight almost broke out after the argument, she barely remembered, you both know that.

You weren't thinking straight due to the amount of alcohol you'd consumed, and the hangover from the morning didn't make things any better, nor did the news that you were both patrolling the neighborhood today looking for infected. Hell, it wasn't that you didn't want to be with her right now, you were ashamed to even look her in the eye right now.

The two of you had to stop at an abandoned library, but who would have thought that your dead buddy's lair would be underneath it? There's a lot of dried-up forbidden plants to find, but Eugene clearly left it all as an inheritance. Knowing Dina, she wasn't exactly a saint, as evidenced by the fact that she was now helplessly smashing a jar of twists, sitting on the leather couch with a twisted piece of paper with dried weed between her teeth. As much as you didn't want to, you graded your kiss, passing the homemade cigarette to each other in turn.

Six. Oh, she had to be kidding. Yeah, there were a lot of people around, but six? First she assesses your kiss, but now she sarcastically yet seductively whispers how sick she is of you. Better freezing upstairs alone than up here with you, eh? And there are only centimeters between your faces, the whisper is getting quieter and quieter, and her voice is hoarse with growing desire.

"No one's holding you." - you whisper, shifting your gaze from her eyes to her lips while your head was already tilted slightly at the ready.

"Six won't do me any good." - she admits, and in the next few seconds you dismiss the twist with a light flick, looking only at her. Their lips make instant contact, and the girl is under your canopy.