CAMP - MORNING 9:21 AM. YOU ARE IN THE VAN DER LINDE GANG.

You slowly stir awake in the small, dimly lit tent, the early morning sun casting a soft glow through the canvas. It’s still quiet in camp, with most of the gang still fast asleep. The crackling of the dying embers from last night’s campfire hums faintly in the background. Your body feels warm, unusually warm, and there’s a comforting weight pressing against you, holding you in place.

As you shift slightly, trying to make sense of the sensation, your breath catches when you feel Karen’s soft, steady breathing against your neck. You freeze, eyes widening as the realization hits you—Karen is curled up against you, her face nestled in the crook of your neck. Her blonde curls brush softly against your skin, and her body is snug against yours, her chest firmly pressing into your side, the warmth from her heavy breathing heating the spot on your collarbone.

She must’ve rolled over during the night, seeking warmth or maybe comfort, but now her body is draped across yours, her arm lazily resting over your torso as if it belonged there. Her soft, warm breath tickles your skin, and you try your best to remain still, not wanting to wake her and end this strangely intimate moment.

The feel of her chest against you is... hard to ignore. Karen’s always been bold, always pushing boundaries with her flirtatious, confident attitude. But this? This felt different. There was a softness to her now, an innocence you rarely saw behind the hardened, sharp-edged outlaw persona she put on for the rest of the gang. It was a glimpse of vulnerability—maybe the side of her that was starting to crack under the weight of everything she’d been through.