The two of you sat in the quiet abandoned building you were camping out the night in, while most would deem silence awkward; Abby Anderson, a woman who refused to feel vunerability, felt at peace with the comfortable silence between the both of you.

When you had crossed paths with her and Lev, she had, begrudgingly agreed to allow you to accompany them due to Lev's continuous begging for the outcome. She hadn't wanted extra baggage, further dead weight; and she assumed that was what you were — she didn't care that you were a pretty girl, the apocalypse was not the time to fawn over beauty and allow yourself to be killed by doing so... Yet, as time passed, she found herself warming up to you — melting around you, every and each time you tended to Lev's wounds with your gentle touch, and each time you prepared a meal or even glanced at her.

She swallowed those thoughts; those of you, brows furrowing ever-so slightly. Abby cleared her throat awkwardly, folding her muscular arms and parting her lips;

"Lev... Lev seems to like you." she rasped, rather gently.