Chapter Text
Prologue
Dina's fingers intertwined with hers as they lay in the tall grass behind the house, watching clouds drift lazily across the summer sky. The warmth of the sun on their skin matched the warmth in Dina's eyes as she turned to face Ellie, forgiveness written in every soft line of her smile. No words were needed - they had found their way back to each other, as simple as breathing.
Ellie's heart swelled with a contentment she hadn't felt in years. Here, in this perfect moment, there was no guilt, no anger, no painful history between them. Just love, pure and uncomplicated, like it had been in the beginning. She could feel Dina's heartbeat against her palm, steady and sure, a rhythm that spelled home.
The harsh light of dawn shattered the illusion. Ellie blinked awake on her narrow cot, the ghost of her dream—Dina's touch still tingling on her skin. Reality crashed back like a physical weight - The dream's sweetness turned bitter in her mouth as she pushed herself up to face another day of earned consequences.
Prey were creatures of habit, they liked to take comfortable routes to easy feeding grounds.
The forest was familiar territory after all these months - she knew which paths the deer preferred, where they bedded down at night, the spots where they came to drink. It was just a matter of patience and positioning herself right. She'd learned that rushing only led to wasted effort and empty hands.
Patience had never been Ellie's strong suit. She'd already spent too long setting up a firing lane and even used some precious grain to bait anything worth shooting.
The morning air was crisp and still, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Her muscles ached from holding position for so long, but patience was key - rushing now would only spook her quarry. She shifted minutely, adjusting her grip on the rifle as she scanned the tree-line.
Her tree stand wasn’t the best, but Ellie was sick of following trails and coming up empty-bellied. At least this way she if she was going to go hungry, could get a good nap in and rest her legs.
The sun had barely crested the horizon, casting long shadows through the branches that made every movement below seem like potential prey. She shifted her weight carefully on the wooden platform, trying to find a position she could hold for hours if needed. The morning dew had soaked through her jacket, but she didn't dare move to adjust it now.
It seemed patience paid off.
A doe materialized from the shadows, its tawny coat blending seamlessly with the dappled morning light filtering through the canopy. The graceful creature stepped cautiously into view, muscles rippling beneath its sleek fur as it paused to survey its surroundings, head raised and ears twitching as it tested the wind.
No threat here, Ellie thought to herself. Just enjoy your breakfast, so I can have mine.
As if the hunter’s internal monologue soothed the animal’s senses, the doe nosed at the ground and ate greedily at the grain.
Ellie watched through her scope, finger steady on the trigger as she waited for the perfect shot. The animal's head remained low, focused on the bait, giving Ellie the ideal angle. Her breath slowed as she prepared to squeeze the trigger, just like Joel had taught her.
A twig snapped somewhere to the left, and the deer's head jerked up, muscles tensing. In that split second before it could bolt, Ellie squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the morning stillness, and the deer dropped where it stood. It wasn’t a clean shot but Ellie would take a pound or two of bloodshot meat over no meat at all.
"Yes!" She pumped her fist in the air, already planning how she'd season the meat with her few wild onions. After weeks of near-misses and empty snares, finally having a solid kill felt like a victory worth savouring.
Her tongue could practically taste the fresh heart and flank stew she was going to cook up.
Like most good things in Ellie’s life, her triumph was short-lived. Through the thick to the doe’s left, a black bear charged straight for the fallen doe. The massive creature circled and sniffed the dead animal once before seizing it by the neck and dragging it into the brush before the girl could even raise her barrel.
"Oh come on! Asshole!" Ellie watched helplessly as the bear disappeared with her kill, its huge form moving with surprising speed despite the deer's weight. The morning's work was lost, along with precious ammunition.
Reckless as ever Ellie reloaded her rifle with gritted teeth and prepared to scale down the tree stand and go after the fat thief. With only a few rounds left, going after it on foot would be suicide. It was either mend her wounded pride and try again, or become the main course. Her belly grumbled like a fussy bear cub. Ellie clutched at her stomach and bit off a small piece of jerky from her chest pocket, the last of her stash.
Maybe being ripped apart by a bear wouldn’t be so bad, she mused to herself. Beats starving to death.
Her fingers drummed against the rifle stock as she weighed her options. The smart choice would be to head back, try again another day when she was better prepared. But the ache in her stomach and the thought of returning empty-handed made her hesitate.
At least she knew where the bear's den might be—she'd have to come back better prepared next time.
At any rate, it wasn’t safe to be out with a fresh kill being guarded, she had to circle back after a trip to the river. “Looks like it’s fish for breakfast, hooray,” she cheered sarcastically.
The morning had grown late, and her stomach growled insistently. She needed to head back to resupply and plan her next move carefully - taking down that bear would require more firepower than she currently had. Making her way through the underbrush, Ellie kept her guard up, knowing the bear could still be in the area.
“Couldn’t have waited until I got a taste?” Ellie groused to herself.
The trek back to camp was a sorry one, her snares had been tripped, but sat empty. It either meant she had a wily fox who’d stolen her rabbits, or the game had wiggled out somehow.
Still, knowing they’d gone off at all gave Ellie some hope. She’d catch something, eventually.
The sun was getting higher in the sky, and her stomach growled insistently. She needed to head back to the river soon if she wanted any chance at catching dinner. At least the walk would give her time to think about how to improve her snare placement.
The fish weren't biting either - just her luck. She'd wasted precious hours by the river with nothing to show for it but pruned fingers and a growing frustration. At least the cool water had helped wash away some of the morning's disappointment.
Her camp was trashed. Cook pot upturned, shelter wall shredded in a limp search for food. That damn bear had followed her scent back here and ransacked everything while she was out seducing fish onto her line in vain. The sight made her blood boil - supplies scattered, her bed roll shredded in a limp search for food.
“That’s just petty,” At least her rifle and remaining ammunition were safely with her, but she'd need to completely rebuild her camp before nightfall.
As Ellie worked she fantasized over bear roasts, bear bacon, bear stew with wild onions. At least the bear had left her some motivation - next time they met, she'd make her daydreams of bear steaks a reality.
The crunch of leaves beneath her boots was the only sound in the crisp autumn air as Ellie stalked through the forest. Her breath came out in small white puffs, rifle held ready as she tracked the massive bear prints in the soft earth. She needed this meat to last through winter—no room for error. The bear had gotten into every one of her traps, ripped her shelter to shreds, and nearly eaten the basket with the bait. She'd had enough of the thief
The attack came without warning. One moment she was examining a fresh print, the next a wall of black fur and muscle burst from the undergrowth. Pure instinct sent her scrambling up the nearest tree, bark scraping her palms raw as she hauled herself higher. The bear rose on its hind legs, massive paws batting at her dangling boots as she climbed.
Ellie's heart hammered in her chest as she steadied herself on a thick branch, rifle shaking in her sweating hands. Below, the bear circled, huffing and swaying. She had one chance to get this right. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she steadied her breathing just like Joel had taught her. Before he could start to climb, she took aim.
The first shot caught the bear behind the shoulder. It roared, rearing up against the tree trunk. Ellie worked the bolt, took aim again. Four more shots rang out in quick succession, each one finding its mark. The massive animal staggered, then crashed to the ground with a thud that shook the earth. Ellie waited, counting her breaths, before finally climbing down on trembling legs.
Only one true way to be sure it was dead. Ellie poked the bear’s eye with her rifle barrel. Joel taught her a wounded animal’s last instinct was the blink reflex. Her finger ghosted the trigger in case she had to fire again.
The bear’s pupil didn’t dilate, its eyes glassy and empty. No blink. Definitely dead.
Her last bullet had done it.
The bear lay still, steam rising from its body in the cool air. Ellie ran a shaking hand through her hair, letting out a long breath. Now came the real work. Drawing her knife, she set about the messy business of field dressing the carcass, her movements precise despite her exhaustion. The meat would feed her for months, if she could preserve it properly. Small comfort, given she'd used the last of her ammunition to get it.
She tied each leg to a tree and stretched the big guy out. The claws she’d keep for herself, everything else she’d try to find a use for. She remembered Joel had warned her not to eat the liver, too much vitamin something in it to prove safe.
“Fuck, you stink,” she held her breath for the gutting. The smell of blood, the feel of it on her hands, she never got used to it. Her eyes watered as she worked, hands steady despite the overwhelming smell. She'd gotten better at this over the years - the messy, necessary work of survival. At least the cooling autumn air would help keep the meat fresh until she could get it properly stored. The stench of iron filled her nostrils as she worked, sweat beading on her forehead despite the cool air. Her hands moved with mechanical precision, muscle memory from years of field dressing taking over as she prepared the massive carcass.
She cut into the hide with practiced efficiency, separating it from the muscle beneath in long, careful strokes. She’d always thought bear hides to be thick, tough, but it was surprisingly thin compared to deer. Most of his padding came from fat, and all the white fat looked prettier than anything Ellie had seen since leaving the farmhouse.
She felt tempted to cut off a chunk and just eat it raw now, but knew better. The wait would be worth it.
At least this time, she didn’t have to worry about having a kill stolen from her.
"Fat bastard," she muttered. Even in death, the bear had the last laugh—this massive carcass would take hours to butcher.
She would need to smoke most of the meat to preserve it. The thought of having such abundance—enough meat that spoilage was even a concern—sent a thrill through Ellie.
As she worked, the forest slowly came back to life around her - birds resuming their songs, small creatures rustling in the underbrush, a couple curious scavengers ready for the scraps she would throw them. The sun tracked across the sky as she portioned out what she could carry. She'd have to make multiple trips to get it all back, but it would be worth it. She had no other option.
Her shoulders ached from the work as she finished wrapping the last portions in oilcloth, the metallic scent of blood still a heavy omen in the air.
In a way, she had the bear to thank. Without him destroying her camp, she wouldn't have found the courage to pack up and move on. Now she was one step closer to home—well, not technically her home anymore, but it still counted for something.
She thought of Dina's fierce protectiveness, how she'd scold Ellie for taking such risks alone. The memory of her warm brown eyes filled with worry made Ellie's chest ache. Maybe bringing home a trophy like this would finally prove she could provide, that she was worth trusting again.
If Dina knew she'd gone after the bear, she would've tried to stop her, insisted they could set up camp somewhere else and start over. But Ellie was tired of starting over—tired of starving, tired of watching everything she built get torn down. This bear had been her breaking point.
Once she finished smoking the meat, she'd trade the hide and anything else she could spare, then pack up and leave. For good this time.
Surely Dina couldn't turn her away now that she was a bear-hunter. It felt foolish, but Ellie saw this as her final hunt—not for survival, but for redemption. From here on out, she'd live clean. No more revenge, no more settling scores, no more chasing that bitter taste of justice. She'd settle down and help Dina build that damn goat shed she always complained about. Change diapers, hang laundry, milk the nanny goat. Whatever. She just didn’t want to live alone anymore.
“You hear that?” Ellie said to no one. “I’m going home.”
The words felt strange in her mouth, like a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. But the taste of them was sweet, sweeter than any meat or victory could be. Her legs were already moving, eager to carry her back to the only place that had ever truly felt like home
“I’d stay away if I were you, nothing out that way but close-knit types. Don’t take kindly to strangers.”
The warning came from old Martha at the trading post, her weathered hands sorting through Ellie's meagre offerings of rabbit pelts. She'd seen enough drifters pass through to know the look in their eyes - that haunted, hungry gaze that spoke of demons yet to be outrun. But Ellie just nodded, already knowing she'd ignore the advice. She had nowhere else to go but forward.
“I can give you one loaf,”
“Make it two, I got mouths to feed.” Now. It was unspoken, but Ellie had to think of more than just herself. She didn’t know how fast baby’s teeth grew, but she was sure JJ couldn’t eat a roast.
Martha squinted at her from beneath heavy brows, as if weighing something. "Fine. Two loaves, but that's my final offer." She wrapped the bread in cloth, her movements deliberate and slow. "Don't come crying to me when winter hits and you've got nothing left to trade."
Ellie accepted the bread and stuffed it into her jacket. It wouldn’t be pretty but she didn’t want to risk opening her bag and showing the bounty inside.
People would kill over flint, let alone this much meat. It felt strange, hoarding a gold mine on her back. Ellie considered slipping a piece of wrapped jerky to Martha, as a final farewell.
Her dumb husband, Kenneth, butted in.
“Heard black bear went missing, you know anything about that?” he squinted.
“No,” Ellie didn’t spare him more than a look. His teeth were rotted down to the roots anyways, she’d seen coyotes with better smiles.
Kenneth grunted with suspicion as he leaned over the counter, his rancid breath making Ellie take a step back. The way he looked at her pack made her skin crawl - like a vulture eyeing its next meal. She kept her hand close to her knife, just in case.
“Round here, we share.”
She could hide the meat from sight, but there was no masking the smell. Despite washing in the river—clothes and all—she reeked like a smokehouse in full operation.
“I’m not from round here.” Ellie said back.
“Come off it, you think this thin girl could down more than a grouse?” the woman defended. “Can’t even bring me eight rabbits.”
Kenneth's face darkened at Martha's words, but he backed off with a grunt, retreating behind the counter like a scolded dog. The smell of bear meat clung to Ellie's clothes, a silent testament to her kill, but she kept her mouth shut. Let them believe what they wanted.
"Bitch," he muttered under his breath, his weathered face twisting into an ugly scowl as he glared at her retreating form with undisguised contempt and hostility.
Ellie bristled but didn’t break the man’s nose. She was turning over a new leaf, she was a peacekeeping sort now.
Ellie turned away from the trading post, her jaw clenched tight against the urge to prove them wrong. Let them think what they wanted - she knew what she was capable of. The weight of the bear meat in her pack was proof enough, even if they'd never believe it came from someone like her.
The late autumn wind whipped at her coat as she trudged down the overgrown path, each step taking her closer to the only place she both longed for and dreaded to see. She'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in her head during sleepless nights, but now that it was real, all her practiced words felt hollow. The weathered fence posts of the homestead emerged through the morning mist, and her heart clenched at the sight of smoke rising from the familiar chimney.
The hens scattered and clucked nervously to one another in their dusty yard, while the old hound, tethered to his weathered post near the porch, lifted his graying muzzle and let out a mournful, drawn-out bay that echoed across the homestead. Since when did Dina get a dog?
The question was a stupid one, with a baby to keep close-by and an entire homestead to manage on her own, of course she’d need a built-in alarm system.
The old hound let out another mournful howl, making Ellie wince. She could feel eyes on her through the curtained windows, watching, judging. Her fingers twitched nervously at her side as she forced herself to take those final steps toward the porch.
This reminded Ellie of old westerns, only she wasn’t a long lost prodigal returning to the fold. She was an outcast, self chosen but as unwanted as if she’d stolen a horse and rode out into the night.
“Hey,” she said low and weak, feigning an optimism that both knew she hadn’t earned.
This was a mistake, what was worse–her arriving healthy and intact or Dina looking older, cut and chiseled and unimpressed? Those arms were fresh with scars long felt, burns from summer suns and goosebumps in the winter frost. The seasons had passed, without her, but Ellie’s memory of the smooth callous under her palms, and her honeysuckle hair, that would linger.
Dina looked through her, rather than at her, like she was an apparition and this was the final time she would put up with this at her doorstep.
“Mumumuh” JJ babbled and Ellie couldn’t look away. He was perfect, not in the ecclesiastical sense, the boy had barely grown above her knee.
His eyes were sharp, and big, and he reminded her of a curious bear cub.
“Hi little man,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in the sight of the growing toddler who had changed so much in her absence.
“Don’t.”
The first words out of Dina’s mouth were a threat. Solid and firm. Don’t push your luck, don’t come back, don’t pretend this never happened…don’t promise me forever only to take it away when you want to burn alive. Burn alone.
“I was just,” she stopped short when Dina ushered JJ back into the house and shut the screen door. He squawked with a quick temper that surprised her, the shrill of toddler cries but Dina stayed firm, immune at this point to any form of defiance.
The amazon crossed her arms and Ellie thought twice about shooting that bear. She could use a good drag by the scruff of her neck right about now. Anything to alleviate the tension would do.
“The kid’s upset,”
“The kid doesn’t need you to look out for him, Ellie.”
Her name sounded foreign and harsh, and she recoiled like her face stung from the slap of betrayal.
I thought of you every night, I turned back more times then I can count, I wrote you a song…
“I brought food,” Ellie wanted to kick herself for being such a coward.
Dina laughed. “Oh, well in that case put your feet up and I’ll put on tea.”
Ellie hadn’t considered how this would sound, come to think of it, she hadn’t thought past stepping into the yard. That was as far as her imagination dared venture.
There was still time, she could turn away and heft her pack to another settlement. But Ellie had seen most of them, and had traded her way to now.
“I sold my guitar,” she said lamely.
Dina whirled back to the house and continued on with her chores, as if nothing had changed from her day to day.
Ellie did what she did best, barrelled through without a plan and relied on adrenaline and instincts. “I hoped,” she wasn’t capable of finishing a single sentence today and realized that actions speak louder than words in the wilderness, put herself to work lining up the logs to be chopped. “Thought supplies would help—they were fresher before the storm*.”* The thought that bread could buy grace and traitors deserved second chances, well that was a first.
She realized if Dina wanted, she could end things right here, for good. One blow of the axe, in her expert hands, and Ellie could finally rest. If it wasn’t for JJ, the little one long past crying and engrossed in the old screen door hinges, she might have laid her neck down on the stump.
“Watch your fingers.” Dina said it more as idle chatter than actual advice.
They worked in silence, Ellie desperate to help and Dina refusing to ask.
The work was long and monotonous and neither spoke for what felt like years but by the going down of the sun, it was clear there was little to care for but resting up, refuelling, and restarting.
Rinse and repeat.
Homesteading was worse torture than Abby could have ever put her through, she lamented. She was not the housebound kind. Her heart already yearned for what was beyond the next aspen grove. She dug her heels in deeper and ignored every instinct to run.
This was a new life, well, an old life she should have taken hold of the first time. And she wouldn’t let anything get away from her
“I can do that,”
Dina shrugged her off, and carried the basket, bandaged shoulder and all. Too many run-ins with the local bear getting into her traps had her surly and puffing under the trouts weight, too stubborn to share in the responsibility.
Her arms were stronger than ever, and if Ellie had to guess she hadn’t had a day off since their last…
“How long can you hold a grudge?”
She regretted it but craved any form of communication, and if arguments would fill the silence so be it.
“Seventeen.”
“What?”
Dina quoted like a mantra to herself, “...not unto thee until seven times seven: but, until seventy times seven…” Dina put the basket down, her shoulder tired and worn through. “My record’s seventeen.”
“Didn’t take you for a believer.” Ellie marvelled. They’d both thought the idea of a god was ludicrous, the closest the world had to magic was science and look where that had led humanity. “You always said that stuff was hokey.”
“Didn’t have a need for it before.”
The idea that Ellie had driven a devout Jew and lesbian to antiquated christianity stung.
“God,” Ellie grimaced.
“Language,” Dina scolded.
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Ellie wondered when exactly Dina had started finding solace in scripture, what verses she'd turned to on those lonely nights. The thought made her chest ache in a way she couldn't quite explain.
Women in the bible had little choice about how their lives would go. Even Mary had no choice in the matter of raising a baby. Ruth had to work fields just to put a measly harvest on the table. Eve suffered.
It seemed right for Dina to seek strength from other women who were stuck in motherhood and building lives better for their children then they had. The bible was a manual for survival, Dina realized in the long months tending house and JJ and keeping up an entire homestead by herself, not just blind faith. These women had endured abandonment, isolation, and crushing responsibility - just like Dina had. Perhaps there was wisdom in those ancient stories that Ellie, with all her restless wandering, had failed to see.
The irony wasn't lost on Ellie - she who had run from everything stable and secure, while Dina found strength in ancient stories of perseverance. Maybe there was something to be learned from staying put, from building rather than destroying. The thought settled uncomfortably in her chest as she watched Dina's practiced movements, every action speaking of the roots she'd grown here without Ellie.
“So you’re like, catholic or,”
"No, I'm not anything. Just...trying to make sense of things. Find some meaning in all this." Dina's voice softened slightly, though the edge remained. "The old stories help sometimes, when nothing else does."
She said, “It started as reading something to JJ when he didn’t sleep, and kind of went from there.”
Ellie nodded, trying to imagine Dina's voice soft and steady, reading ancient words to their son in the dark hours. The thought of those quiet moments she'd missed made her chest ache. She wondered what stories JJ loved best, what verses had become their nighttime ritual in her absence.
“That’s kinda cool,” Ellie tried to be enthusiastic. Her interest fell flat.
Dina pushed off from the log they were sitting on, brushing dirt from her pants. The silence stretched between them like a physical thing, heavy with all the words they couldn't say. Ellie watched her go, wondering if she'd ever find the right words to bridge this gulf between them.
The nursery was dim and cozy, lit only by a small oil lamp on the dresser. Faded circus animals danced across peeling wallpaper, and a handmade mobile of carved wooden stars hung above the crib. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet, worn smooth by countless midnight walks. A rocking chair sat in the corner, its cushions threadbare but still soft, next to a shelf of well-loved picture books. The room smelled of homemade soap and the wild lavender that grew outside the window, its curtains gently swaying in the evening breeze.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, painting stripes across the wooden floor where they stood in tense silence. JJ's fussing was the only sound between them, filling the space where words used to flow so easily.
"Hold on," Ellie murmured to the fussy baby as she tried to slip him out of his shirt.
JJ squirmed and wriggled in protest, his tiny hands batting away at the fabric while his face scrunched up in that particular way toddlers do when they're determined to be difficult. God it was moments like this Ellie cursed Jesse’s name for giving the kid such annoying genes.
“I’m out of practice,” Ellie admitted, “but I’ll get it. Like riding a bike, right?”
Dina watched from the doorway, her expression unreadable. Something both familiar and foreign stirred in her as she watched Ellie fumble with the baby clothes—like muscle memory trying to surface after years of disuse. She remembered how natural it had once been, in that other life, when they'd done this together every night.
Dina's eyes lingered on the scene—Ellie with their son, this strange new domesticity that felt both right and wrong. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between them, but for now, she let the moment be.
Ellie set to work undressing and rewrapping the baby in a fresh set of pajamas. They didn’t match, honestly in this world she had forgotten what it was like to have things match.
But they were a decent size for him, still too long in the legs. If she rolled the pants up to his knees, they weren’t a half bad fit.
Whatever she knew from babies, any maternal skills, were foreign; a prized tool rusted away from misuse. But it was no matter, JJ was an easy kid to love. Even if he didn’t remember her.
“And if that baby billy goat don’t pull
“...gonna buy you a cart and bull…”
JJ yawned long and drawn out, his eyes so far from closing and yet his eyelashes crashed down with every blink and Ellie had to steady herself before the next verse.
“If that cart and bull turn over,
“Ellie’s gonna buy you a tractor motor,”
Dina smiled without meaning to, hearing her son’s delighted giggles and the girl’s surprised laugh that she’d won his affections.
Ellie was infallibly loveable. She was summer rains that almost warmed your skin, cherry trees near ripe to enjoy, and ponds too thick to find the bottom of.
The adventure lay in the unknown, the unkept promises, the untapped potential.
Dina didn’t want to give her anything.
Any human decency, compassion, praise, or mercy. But she was as able to leave Ellie dead and buried, as a drug addict could leave their dealer. The farther they separated, the sooner she needed her close-by.
She was more than Dina could have ever had with Jesse, and less than she was promised. And just like any God fearing woman, the brunette wanted her due for all her hard labour and toil.
“How about you start with fixing the roof.” Dina’s little quip gave Ellie hope, at least here, in JJ’s nursery they could be civil.
Maybe friends.
“First thing tomorrow.” Ellie promised, green eyes searching for trust that she wouldn’t recognize even if she’d found it.
JJ shifted in his crib, drawing both their attention back to the present moment. His tiny fingers curled around the edge of his blanket, seeking comfort in sleep. The soft rise and fall of his chest was hypnotic, a reminder of all they'd created together, all they'd lost.
Cicadas and cinnamon. That’s how Ellie would remember her first night with Dina. The first and only, she wasn’t so sure.
The memory was like a polaroid, edges fuzzy but the center clear as day - the way Dina's skin had glowed in the lamplight, how her breath had caught when Ellie first touched her. She'd been so nervous then, hands trembling as they mapped unfamiliar territory, but Dina had guided her with gentle patience and knowing smiles. Now those memories felt like someone else's life, a dream she'd woken from too soon.
“I want,”
“What do you want?”
“Please…” Ellie’s hunger and thirst was soothed under Dina’s soft tongue. It was like every minute they had spent apart was shattered in the rock of her hips and her grip on the girl’s suntanned shoulders.
“Here?”
"Dina," she growled, her voice rough with desire and frustration, the single word carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.
“No? How about here,”
“Fuck you’re too good at that.”
Dina grinned and Ellie pushed her face away playfully.
Her soft lips curved into a teasing smile, eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back in. "You can't get rid of me that easily," she murmured, trailing kisses along Ellie's jawline. The playful moment felt like a breath of fresh air, a glimpse of what they used to be.
“I didn’t,” Ellie didn’t know how to word this, even on a good day her speech was limited, “you’re the only one,”
Dina held the girl’s neck gently, stroked along her hair and smiled. “I know.”
It felt so right to have another woman beside her, how long Ellie had shivered into herself, hugged a horse blanket for warmth and tried to convince herself it was all she deserved.
Bone-tired and unconditioned, with one embrace Dina had stripped the warrior bare. Weak, open, resistant to anything but the warmth from her chest.
She was weak.
“I missed this,”
“Shh…” Dina’s sleepy gruff was more endearing than warning.
Ellie woke with a start, her heart pounding against her ribs as the sweet dream dissolved into the harsh reality of morning. The warmth of Dina's imagined touch faded like mist, leaving behind only the cold emptiness of her borrowed bed. She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to hold onto the fragments of that perfect moment where everything had been forgiven, but the weight of Dina's real anger settled back over her like a heavy blanket.
In that hazy space between sleep and waking, she could almost believe they were back in their old bed at the farm, before everything fell apart.