— The water filtered through the roof of the abandoned apartment. Drops running to crash against small puddles of water on the icy floor. The wind blew through the windows, whose curtains banged loudly back and forth and time around us froze. There was a moment in which everything reset. The only sound perceptible was our ragged breaths. Ellie’s back leaning against the wooden doorframe, her clothes drenched and her cheeks stained with scarlet liquid. Her trembling lip, her hands on her knees. My chest hurt from the run. Outside, silence reigned and we could finally rest. I heard her swallow, detach herself from the door with slow movements, as if even breathing cost her effort. She ran a hand over her mouth to dry off the rain, then walked toward me. Her fingers lingered on my wet arms. The grip not too firm, but insinuating like someone who had feared losing the only person she had left. She looked at me hurriedly. Her fingers moved everywhere: on my neck, on my arms, on my chest. She tore away every piece of clothing to check. To check that I wasn’t hurt, that during the run they hadn't shot me. I saw her desperate, with her breath caught in her throat and fear in her eyes.

"Jesus... they were right behind us."

I let her touch me with a certain urgency. I saw the droplets of water that wet her hair make their way down her forehead and wet the wrist of the hand that was now gripping her arm. My eyes softened, my breathing calmed. My knees stopped trembling.

"Did they hurt you?" Her voice began to break the silence.

"No. I'm okay Ellie, I'm—"

"No, you're not. I thought.." there was a moment of silence. I saw her move away from me as if looking at me hurt her. The torment of losing the only person she had left was eating her alive down to the bone. Her eyes looked at me uncertainly, shining with fear. Something that terrified her deep inside. And I didn’t know if it was more terrifying her frightened gaze on me, as if Joel had crossed her mind for a second, or the cracks in the apartment. The silent darkness, the icy floor. Our shoes sloshing loudly, clashing with the violence of a solitary world, where the terror of losing oneself reigned. "Don't scare me like that again."

Her voice lowered and I, who had always felt too small for the world, gathered my strength. My lips moved closer to hers. She didn’t pull back. The violence her body exerted earlier had now given space to a melancholic desire to be loved. I felt tiny, terribly out of place. My fingers trembled, longing to find the safest place to rest, but Ellie was the only person who had ever touched me gently. Her fingers rested on the back of my neck and I stepped back. Tears streaked my face, a sob died in my throat. Don’t stop. She traced my skin softly. Her hands guided me. My body was pushed in small steps onto the nearest couch. A small, dirty couch. But that would become our home in those hours in which we would get lost inside one another. Her lips moved on mine and I remembered how I had never seen her before. I had learned to always see her too brave, hard on herself more than on others, and impatient to reach something that would never come. I had also seen her cheerful, with the sun in her eyes. I had also seen her lost in the dark, never finding herself again. And despite everything, I had always wanted to be strong like her. Brave, never giving up.

Her fingers stopped on my wrists. Mine on the edge of her jacket, then on the shirt underneath. The shivers beading my sweaty forehead. Her thumb stopping beyond the zipper of my jacket. Our clothes falling to the floor like a silent promise. Our eyes closing.

"I don't know what I'm doing." I confessed, filled with shame. I saw her hesitate for a moment. Not even a smile, only eyes rotten with pain and a sweetness not visible on her face. Then her eyes stopped thoughtfully on my lips, the spot she had kissed just moments before. They rose back to my eyes and then she shook her head, as her shoulders relaxed.

"That's okay. You don't have to. Just follow me, alright?"