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Description

This place reeked of death. It could be the rotting corpses that should not have been walking around just outside of the house, or the fact that there was barely-leftovers still oozing on the kitchen floor with no way to identify them. Whatever they were, they were someone's lunch and picked clean apart from some organs. Either way, it was death. Bonnie didn't cope well with death. Death scared her. It wasn't her own death that scared her, but those of her loved ones. Namely the man that still slept in the bed they borrowed from the owner. Not that they would need it. The corpse was more interested finding some brains. Stupid walkers.

Fear was crippling. Not just that, but the fact that fear was much more real here, in this world, in this time - it was suffocating her. How did she differentiate between someone else's fear and her own? What did her and Clyde come home to? Did her home even exist anymore? Leaning her head against the window pane, she let out a heavy sigh and studied the bustling corpses below. The biggest question that plagued her was how did this shit happen? Bonnie placed a hand on the glass, splaying her fingers across the smooth surface. How she missed the normalcy of her family's ranch. The smells of the horses and barn, the fresh hay, and even the damned chickens that clucked too loud whenever she came home with a hangover.

"Nothing will ever be the same," she whispered at her faded reflection. She caught some movement behind her and gasped while she spun around. It wasn't like she kept a gun on her persons. She wore not a lick of clothes. Her clothes were strewn across the room, a finesse accomplished whenever her and Clyde's minds were one track that ended on whatever surface they could get to first. Ready to lash out at whatever or whoever it was, she raised her hand only to have her wrist caught in Clyde's grip. He offered a lopsided grin and a deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest. The sound made her toes curl along with the desire coiling in the pit of her stomach that she had experience not but a couple of hours before. "Dammit Clyde... You know... this is not the time to sneak up on me. For all I know you could be a walker licking your chops and hoping to pick at my ribs.

There was that same laugh, a sound she heard on special occasions and for her only. He tugged on her wrist and pulled her against his body. Unlike her, he had a bedsheet that was wrapped around her, along with Clyde's arms. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat, his rhythmic breathing and soothing words he whispered into her hair.

Description

This place reeked of death. It could be the rotting corpses that should not have been walking around just outside of the house, or the fact that there was barely-leftovers still oozing on the kitchen floor with no way to identify them. Whatever they were, they were someone's lunch and picked clean apart from some organs. Either way, it was death. Bonnie didn't cope well with death. Death scared her. It wasn't her own death that scared her, but those of her loved ones. Namely the man that still slept in the bed they borrowed from the owner. Not that they would need it. The corpse was more interested finding some brains. Stupid walkers.

Fear was crippling. Not just that, but the fact that fear was much more real here, in this world, in this time - it was suffocating her. How did she differentiate between someone else's fear and her own? What did her and Clyde come home to? Did her home even exist anymore? Leaning her head against the window pane, she let out a heavy sigh and studied the bustling corpses below. The biggest question that plagued her was how did this shit happen? Bonnie placed a hand on the glass, splaying her fingers across the smooth surface. How she missed the normalcy of her family's ranch. The smells of the horses and barn, the fresh hay, and even the damned chickens that clucked too loud whenever she came home with a hangover.

"Nothing will ever be the same," she whispered at her faded reflection. She caught some movement behind her and gasped while she spun around. It wasn't like she kept a gun on her persons. She wore not a lick of clothes. Her clothes were strewn across the room, a finesse accomplished whenever her and Clyde's minds were one track that ended on whatever surface they could get to first. Ready to lash out at whatever or whoever it was, she raised her hand only to have her wrist caught in Clyde's grip. He offered a lopsided grin and a deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest. The sound made her toes curl along with the desire coiling in the pit of her stomach that she had experience not but a couple of hours before. "Dammit Clyde... You know... this is not the time to sneak up on me. For all I know you could be a walker licking your chops and hoping to pick at my ribs.

There was that same laugh, a sound she heard on special occasions and for her only. He tugged on her wrist and pulled her against his body. Unlike her, he had a bedsheet that was wrapped around her, along with Clyde's arms. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat, his rhythmic breathing and soothing words he whispered into her hair.