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"even though my life before was tragic, now i know my love for her goes on" -every little thing she does is magic, sleeping at last
song to listen to: another love by tom odell
warnings: an axe murderer committing axe murder, graphic depictions of gore, kissing(idk if that's a trigger for y'all so it's there), violence, decapitation, fighting, choking, near-death, actual death
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Out of breath as I reached the Mess Hall, I looked around at the abandoned camp. A couple of lights were still on, some lanterns swayed in the wind, and the fire was barely burning anymore. It was strange to think that just hours before the camp was alive and thriving. Kids had been running from each other during Capture The Flag-laughing, screaming from joy, crying from happiness. Now there was no laughter, and screams were only from the victims of Tommy, crying from those who witnessed the deaths and saw the bodies.
"Mia?" A familiar feminine voice reached my ears, and I looked over to see my girlfriend.
Is this a dream? No, no it can't be. Cindy Berman was standing there, covered in dirt and a bit of blood, and her polo shirt was torn. Alice Hart and Ziggy Berman were sitting at one of the tables, Cindy's satchel laid out in front of them. But Cindy was there, standing a couple of footsteps away from me. She was alive. My girlfriend was alive.
"Cee Cee?" I whispered one of her nicknames, and upon her nodding, all I did was look back at the door before sprinting into her arms.
Tears spilled on both sides of this comforting hug; Cindy buried her head in the crook of my shoulder and neck; I stroked her hair and gave her a kiss on her temple. She let out a soft sob, but that wasn't from the fact of my kiss, it was the fact of us in each other's grasp once again. Cindy Berman allowed the kiss on her temple. She let it be seen-there wasn't one bit of scolding in her voice.
"I thought...I thought he got you..." Her voice was muffled, and more tears spilled as I shook my head.
"I thought he got you," I whispered back, the breath of soft laughter an undertone of the whisper.
"I love you, Mia Peters." Cindy declared as she pulled back from the hug, cupping my face in her hands.
"I-I love you too, Cindy Berman."
And our lips met one another's. Cindy and I were kissing in broad daylight, so to speak. She had initiated the kiss, too. I moved a hand to her cheek, and she nuzzled into my hand as we pulled back.
