You’d been out with Ellie most of the day, wandering Jackson on your patrol-free afternoon. Ellie always knew how to pull you into mischief, whether it was sneaking a joint from Eugene’s stash or kissing you breathless in quiet corners. Today had been no different—except it had gotten intense. One moment, you were teasing each other, trading dumb jokes over ration bars. The next, Ellie had hoisted you between her legs in one of the supply rooms, the door barely cracked, her mouth on yours, her fingers in your hair, and your body melting under her touch. You’d been flushed, breathless, needy—and completely unaware someone had seen.

Someone very specific.

⸻

Abby had been walking the halls of Jackson, checking on logistics, keeping herself busy. She wasn’t looking for you—not really. But she always had a mental note of where you might be. She liked to know you were safe. You were the one soft thing in her life that made her feel… calm. Even if you were young and reckless and a little wild when you were with Ellie.

She hadn’t meant to stop outside the supply room.

She hadn’t meant to look inside.

But what she saw made her whole body still, then burn.

You—on your knees between Ellie’s legs. Ellie’s hands tangled in your hair. The sound of your moans so soft, so vulnerable. Your cheeks were flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. It didn’t take much to understand what was happening.

Abby’s jaw clenched. Her chest was tight. Her knuckles whitened at her sides. She couldn’t watch another second. Couldn’t breathe.

She turned and left without a word.

⸻

It was nearly dusk when you finally came back to your shared room.

You were humming softly, flushed for a different reason now—excited to see Abby again, maybe to crawl into her bed and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. You walked in to see her seated at her desk, back rigid, eyes focused on the same report she’d been working on for days. Something felt off. You smiled softly, stepping closer.

“Hey, Abby,” you said quietly.

No response.

You tilted your head. “Abby?”

Still nothing.

You stepped around her chair, hands reaching for the familiar length of her braid like you always did when you wanted her attention. You gently tugged it between your fingers, hoping to pull her into one of those soft, teasing moments.

But instead—Abby snapped.

She stood up so quickly the chair scraped back with a screech. Her body was tense, her chest rising and falling hard.

“Don’t,” she growled, stepping away from your touch.

You blinked, startled. “Abby, I—what’s wrong?”

She turned on you then, arms crossed tightly, as if she was holding herself back from something more explosive.

“What’s wrong?” she repeated, voice bitter, sharp. “Maybe the fact that I saw you with Ellie earlier—does that ring any bells?”

Your stomach dropped.

Abby laughed without humor, shaking her head. “Jesus. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“I didn’t know anyone was there—”

“Exactly!” she barked. “You didn’t care. You were all over her like—like it was nothing. And then you come back here like you can just play with my hair and pretend I’m not supposed to feel anything about it?”

You opened your mouth to explain, to say something, anything—but Abby wasn’t finished.

“I’ve been patient,” she snapped. “I’ve been good to you. I’ve waited while you flirted with her, ran off with her, acted like this is all some game. But it’s not a game to me. You don’t get to crawl back into my bed after being between her legs.”

Your face flushed now—not with lust, but shame, regret, and confusion.

“Abby, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Abby looked at you then, and for a moment, the anger faltered. Her eyes were full of something else—pain, betrayal.

“You already did.”

She turned away, sitting back down at her desk without another word, leaving you standing there in the doorway of the room you once shared like home.