Woe to Felicity- Resident Evil

Epilogue

"Drive safe (Y/N), alright?" He whispered into your ear, all while you kept your secure hold on him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Drakkar Noir, wonder what that means. It smells so good.

"I will." You looked up to him, seeing him smile as he took a mental picture of your (E/C) eyes. He shared one last kiss with you, one that left your lips tingling as you got in the car and left, leaving Chris to watch your car disappear into traffic.

You called as soon as you got there and got the last box inside your new apartment, digging through it for your phone to plug it in. He answered before the first ring even finished, making your heart soar at just how much he missed you too.

For the next month, you would call at least once or twice a day. You'd tell him how it was going, how the new places you'd visit in the new city would either amuse you or bore you or how you were feeling. You always felt bad for talking about yourself so much, you'd try constantly to switch the topic from you to him. He'd always simple things, never really giving himself many things to say before asking another thing about you. You asked why, Chris would just say he liked hearing you talk.

Along with these calls, it was his only way of making sure you were taking care of yourself. If you've eaten, made any friends, left the house even. He made sure you were okay, which led to him promising in a week he'd come visit you. It made you so excited that you almost didn't want to sleep, but Chris always made sure you did. In your bed, not on the couch where you always sat during your calls.

One night when you sat on your couch and called him, he didn't answer. You tried again, and still no answer. You didn't like to admit that you called an additional five more times, wondering if he was out or if something happened to him. He would never miss a call, you thought.

Then the next day, on September 30th, Raccoon City had been bombed. It was all over the news at seven in the morning when you struggled to sleep. You felt your anxiety roar to massive levels as you stared at the reporters struggle to describe what happened.

Chris still hadn't called you or answered your calls, so you tried the next best person, Jill. She answered after the third call, surprised to hear your frantic voice asking if she was okay, and what the absolute fuck had happened. She described the outbreak, the undead roaming the streets infecting everyone and everything. She wasn't sure if anyone else survived, since she said she barely left in time with another fellow survivor before the city was bombed.

Learning this, you felt frozen and numb for quite a long time. You hadn't left the house for what felt like two weeks, unable to get out of bed. The heavy weight of the death of the man you really cared for, loved even, to be gone just like that in an instant refused to settle in your mind.

You've felt pain in the past, it's wrapped around you like a cold shawl and prevented you from seeing anything good. But this, this heartache, felt like someone wrapped your body and soul in a thick black blanket, preventing you from seeing and breathing. It was awful, and you were convinced you'd be stuck like this for a very long time.

You eventually forced yourself out of it when you needed to get groceries, and you walked outside for the first time to see the sun annoyingly get in your eyes with a chill breeze blowing in your face, letting you take in the early fall fragrance. It made you remember everything Chris told you when it came to things like this, even if it came to a possibly relapse.

Chris wouldn't want me like this. I know that.

You spent the rest of October and December keeping those thoughts in your mind as you got yourself busy with various hobbies. Jill would call you at least three times a week, Rebecca would chat about about things she would be doing here and there, and Barry, even though the two of you didn't call all that much, would speak fondly about his family and how you were doing.