Frank is stronger come the morning.
He's cried his tears, and clutched at me as tight as he needs to, for as long as he feels the urge. I'm happy to be held, grateful to be wanted by him so desperately. Despite knowing I love him, despite my conviction in his feelings, I wasn't sure we'd ever get to be so close again.
We sleep for an hour just after dawn, but I'm restless. In the end I give up, turn on my side, and watch Frank sleep.
He's so pretty, it causes an ache in my sternum.
He has a peaches and cream complexion. The softest pink gracing the lines of his cheekbones, overlaying pale, smooth flesh. His eyebrows and eyelashes are darkest black, the veins on his eyelids plum purple and ocean blue.
I let him rest for another half hour, but in the end, I'm selfish. I lean in to kiss him - his cheeks and his jaw and his throat and his chest. He starts to shift as I suckle at his pulse, and only a few moments later his arms encircle my waist, and he rolls onto his back so I can straddle him.
He's ready, and so am I, and without saying anything at all we claim each other again.
I ride him until I've finished twice, and he sits up so he can hold me close and kiss me as he finishes too. We collapse together, both wheezing.
"Feel free to wake me up like that again." His voice is hoarse.
"Sure thing."
He tugs on my hand until he can lift my knuckles to his mouth. His kisses are gentle.
"We should probably leave the room." He mutters, "Spend time with people, kind of thing."
The idea makes me wince, "Shower with me first?"
His eyes are tawny brown in this light; just darker than gold. His damp skin makes him glisten, like he's made of diamonds. He's flushed - more peaches than cream, now. His smile turns him from pretty to beautiful.
"Course I will."
He washes my hair, and I kiss him stupid for it. After we're dressed, and my hair hangs damp and softly curled around my waist, I bend to lace my boots. He's ready and waiting at the door, and I'm not sure I want to leave.
"There's people to see, Nevaeh." He murmurs, when I say it out loud. "I can't be as selfish as I want to be with you. Not now."
"Aren't I allowed to be as selfish as I want?" I say, wrenching my laces too tight. "Considering I'll never get to be again?"
He sighs, and comes to join me on the bed. He hooks an arm around my hips. "You can do whatever you want, love. If you crawl back into bed and stay there, I'll join you. But do you want to waste the time you have?"
"I don't consider that a waste." I drop my head onto his shoulder.
"Nor me," He chuckles, and kisses my forehead. "But you'll regret it if you don't spend time with the people you love."
"Do they all want to spend time with me?" I check, worried that I've ruined things. That I've burned all the bridges I had.
"They're desperate to see you." He reassures, "Not just our group, but the soldiers and the community as well."
People. Lots of people. The idea makes me seize up.
"I'll be with you the whole time." He squeezes me. "Everyone just wants to say thank you. Everyone is so grateful. And I'm not going to leave you."
"Not at all?"
"Not if you don't want that." He shrugs, and his hazel eyes are very serious. "I'm going to be disgustingly obsessed with you, of course. You'll probably order me away, but until then, fuck it."
I can't think of any situation where I wouldn't want his hands on me in some capacity.
"Okay." I blow out a breath, nod, stand. I'll be brave about it, I guess.
We're the first ones in the cafeteria. The dinner ladies heap my tray so high, my insides won't stretch around it all. As the morning bustle starts to file into the big room, I give Frank some of my share.
Just as he's tucking into my chocolate toast, Molly and Dylan appear at my elbow.
"Nevaeh," Dylan says it with such tragedy in her voice that I wonder if she's about to deliver bad news. But she's only upset for me, and her hug is surprisingly strong, for a girl so petite.
"Sorry, Dailey." Molly mutters, and gives my arm a punch.
"Much more macho," I compliment, smiling.
"We were thinking of a game of football later?" Dylan raises her perfectly arched brows, "You'll join us, yeah? We could get a drink after. You need to be drunk at least once more."
I cut a look to Frank, consider leaving him, even for a few hours, and shy away from the idea.
"Could we do it tomorrow, maybe?" I check, feeling guilty. "I'll spend all the time I can with you guys, but there's a lot of people to see-"
"Don't let anyone dictate your time, Nevaeh." Molly says firmly, "Fit us in when you can, if you want, okay? You've got to do what you want, especially with how selfless you're being. Don't let Grace waste your fucking hours, either."
I sag, grateful. "Thanks, Molly."
They go, and when I take my seat next to Frank, his knee knocks mine.
"You can go with them," He says, frowning a little. "I'll survive a few hours without-"
"I don't want to spend any hours away from you." I mutter, too sharp.
His face smooths, and his lips quirk up into a smile. "Okay, then."
I take a deep breath, "Maybe tomorrow, or the next day. Not... Not today."
He nods, looking like he understands. I couldn't stand it. We've only had a few meagre hours together. I need to get my fill. I need to gorge myself, before I have to leave.
His knee knocks mine again, "We've got time, Nevaeh, okay? Don't panic, love."
I take another breath, nodding, and squeeze my eyes closed. I can't cry here. I lift my hands to cover my face, just in case. Frank squeezes my thigh, and kisses my shoulder, and I breathe a little easier.
"Bad time?"
Dropping my hands, I find Gerard stood with a tray and looking hopeful.
"No." I say, before Frank can ask him for some space. "I mean, yeah, times are bad, but you can stay. If you want."
Gerard rolls his eyes, rounds the table, and drops into the seat next to me.
"You're an idiot, Nevaeh." He grumbles, and wrangles me in for a tight hug. I rest my chin on his shoulder and breathe him in - bleach and peppermint and coconut shampoo. "You're really not as awful as you think you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I lean back, watch him scrub at red-rimmed eyes.
"If you want," He quotes, pulling a face. "Of course I'd want to be with you. Duh, you're my best friend."
"Frank and Ray are your best friends."
"You're my bestest." He tweaks my nose. "My most precious."
"Okay, Sméagol." I scoff.
His giggle is a lovely sound, "Looks like the Grim Reaper found your sense of humour."
I wince, blink as I look down. "Sorry that I lost it. Sorry... For making everything harder."
"Oh, honey." He sniffles immediately, and as soon as he's hugging me again I feel the tears take hold. "It's not your fault." He blubbers, "Please don't feel bad. I could have tried harder, I'm sorry I didn't. I could have clung onto you, you know? I knew that's what you needed. I just... I thought we had more time."
"Yeah." I sniff, pull back, scrub at my own eyes. "Yeah, I know."
"Gerard," Ray's voice, sounding weary, "Thought I told you not to make her cry, huh? Told you not to make yourself cry." He drops down into a seat, and Nat and Mikey and Alissa are all with him.
"Big baby," Mikey mutters, but only so that Gerard laughs.
Everyone settles at the table and picks at their trays of breakfast. Frank has one hand hooked around my thigh, and Gerard keeps his arm looped through my elbow. They both eat one-handed, looking unbothered by the limitation.
"Nevaeh-" It's Alissa, looking like she hasn't slept in days. Her hair is lank and a little greasy, and there's a dullness to her usually bronzed skin. The shadows under her eyes are almost as dark as mine.
"Yeah, Alissa?"
Her narrow shoulders stiffen, "You can call me Liss, if you want, like."
"Oh."
She stares at me, and I stare at her. No one says anything.
"Please, someone speak." Ray begs, "I'm going to shit my pants if we all have to sit in silence for another minute longer."
Mikey and Nat do their best to laugh.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Alissa says it quickly, like she's dying to get the words out. Like she can't bear to say them at all. "I know I was a bitch. Worse than that. I was a fucking bastard to you all the time and I'm sorry."
"You're only saying that because I'm going to die."
The snipe is automatic. It's been so long since I put any effort into stopping the nastiness jump out of me - I'm out of practice.
But Alissa gives an impatient little huff; a glimmer of the teenager I knew, all those years ago.
"Well, yeah." She says, giving her hair a Mean Girl flick over one shoulder. "I don't want you to fucking haunt me, okay?"
"This isn't A Christmas Carol, Liss." I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to come back as the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"I'm covering all bases, you know?" She sniffs dismissively.
"Fair enough." I allow, and smile as best I can. She smiles back.
And that's that, I guess.
***
I spend the time I have left as best I can.
Everyone makes a concerted effort - more than I want, more than I deserve - to make it happy, and calm.
The first day, I spend it with my old group. They take me to their house, and walk me round, and no one mentions what's going to happen. We bicker, and we joke, and that evening we make dinner together like we're on the outside again. Gerard shows me the artwork he's struggling with; a new comic series. Something to do with superheroes. After dinner, we play board games. I only win the strategic games. I can't win at any where you have to lie; Frank can tell immediately. When Mikey and Gerard are keeping sleep at bay with slow blinks, and Alissa has already fallen asleep against Ray's shoulder, Frank and I wander back to our room.
The second day, I spend with Kyle and the soldiers. I have breakfast, lunch and dinner with Frank, struggling to stay away for the full day, but the in-between hours, I let Kyle kidnap me. We do target practice in the morning, and play sports in the afternoon. Football, tag rugby, plain old tag. Kyle is never far from my side. Travis apologises. Jared, Molly, Dylan and Clint spend all day making me laugh. We drink our way through the evening, and even Dylan is allowed a few cocktails. Kyle guides me back to my room, and hands me off to Frank. I slur out my love for him as he undresses me and bundles us both into bed.
The third day, the community hold something akin to a street party. There's food, and banners, and songs. It starts in the early afternoon, and lasts into the small hours of the night. People approach me all day long to thank me, to shake my hand, to simply talk. They tell me what they miss most about life before. They tell me how I saved them - not just by getting them here, but by doing what I'm doing. No one is unhappy. Everybody joins in with the songs, and later, the dancing.
"Nevaeh," Frank's voice is low in my ear.
I'm lounging against him, watching as couples slow dance. There's no dance floor, just a strip of cleared concrete in the middle of the road and some twinkly lights strung above. Ray has been playing guitar for most of the night. Gerard sang a few classics - Queen, The Beatles, Joan Jett, Fleetwood Mac. One very funny rendition of Dolly Parton's Nine to Five.
Frank joined in for a while on guitar, but returned to my side pretty swiftly. We've danced and ate and drank, and people stopped approaching a little while ago. Probably because I've been listing backwards into his chest on my chair, letting my eyes drift closed periodically.
I hum to show I'm listening.
"Wanna go for a walk?"
I'm laden down with food and three cocktails that Clint stirred for me.
"Probably for the best." I groan, and heave myself up.
It takes a while to leave; I stop to say goodbye to the soldiers, and then our group. Members of the community stop me as well, jumping up to kiss my cheeks or squeeze my hands again. I even pass John, who mutters a gruff goodnight and gives Frank a funny look while he does it.
"Lets go the long way round," Frank tugs on my hand, and we walk in the opposite direction of the glass headquarters.
The sounds of people die away, but the sound of nature does not replace it. We're not in the open - we're behind a wall. It's very rare there's even a proper breeze, let alone the raucous noise of the world.
Still, his hand is warm in mine, and the night is cool and the sky is clear.
We keep the wall on our left and follow it's gentle curve for a while. And out of the dark, emerges a ladder, protected by a little tube of steel. All the way to the top of the wall.
Frank stops to look upwards. Turns to look at me in the gentle gloom. I can see the shine of his grin and his eyes.
"No." I say, before he can say anything.
"Oh, come on." He's already got his hand on the first metal rung.
"I've been drinking." I remind him, "I could fall to my death."
"We'll be inside this sturdy little cage, look." He taps the tube, and it makes a dull, echoing sound. "And you can go first. If you fall-"
"I'll smack into you, and we'll both plummet to our deaths."
"Come on, warrior hero." He digs his fingers into my ribs, and I gasp and twist away. "Dare you."
I purse my lips and glare, sure he can't see me in the dark. I still don't know how to back down from a dare.
"Stop glaring," He drops a kiss against my shoulder, "Think of the view."
"You're an irritation." I tell him, before I brace my boot against the first rung of the ladder and start to haul myself upwards.
There are little, solar powered lights running the length of the metal tube. For when idiots like us climb in the dark, I suppose.
It only takes ten minutes, but my thighs are burning and my palms are stinging by the time the tube curves and drops us onto the top of the wall.
"Oh look," Frank pants, as he tries to shake out the stiffness in his hands. "It's like one of of those old castle walls. So you can look over it and fire arrows downwards."
"A parapet," I roll my eyes.
"Stop being a smartass, smartass." He pinches my hip. Takes my hand.
"We'll run into a patrol soon, I guess." I say, as we start to walk. There's little lights up here, too. Few and far between, but with the added glow from the community below, it's enough to see by.
"Not tonight," Frank informs me, looking sure of the fact. "Everyone got the night off for the party."
"Suppose it's a useless job anyway," the wall is a couple of miles in circumference. No corpses have ever breached it. Whoever has to walk around it at night must hate the job.
Our feet scrape against concrete, and our breathing evens out from the effort of our climb. I try to see into the distance, into the outside world, but it's mostly just blackness. An empty void.
There's no glow of distant cities. No pinpricks of light from farms, or standalone houses. No sweep of headlights from a vehicle. No streetlamps. Civilisation is gone.
But the stars remain.
The milky way galaxy looks like a rip in the sky. It is fringed with traces of orange and sapphire. It's a sprawling expanse of wonder, a never-ending reminder of how small we are. We did something awful, I think, when we built cities bright enough to block it out.
Maybe that's where it all went wrong.
"Don't let them block this out, Frank." I've come to a stop, tipped my head back. I'm breathing it in like I could swallow it down. Maybe that's where I'll go - maybe I'll float up there in the quiet until Frank can join me. "When they rebuild." I try to explain.
"I dunno that anyone will listen to me, sweetheart." He settles at my side, seems to know that this is a time to give me space. "But I'll make the request, sure."
"Thank you." It's only when I sniff do I realise I'm crying. "I'm not going to be there to see it."
"You'll be there." He says, fiercely. "No one is ever going to forget you. Not for as long as there is a human race. You'll be... You'll be as famous as Shakespeare, or Galileo, or... I dunno, shit, maybe Jesus."
He startles a laugh out of me.
"Idiot," I mutter.
"You'll be a Saint. Everyone is going to love you." His voice is very certain.
"Not as much as you've loved me."
"Present tense. Love. I love you. It'll always be present tense for me, Nevaeh." His voice is choked, but he's trying his best to hold it firm. "Doesn't matter how many years pass, okay? Doesn't matter if I go senile and lose my marbles, eventually. The only thing that will never change for me, that will always be true for me, is that I love you."
I believe him.
I don't want him to waste his life missing me. I don't want that for him, but... I've got no right to dictate what he does after I'm gone. Maybe I'll try to wring a promise out of him. Ask him to try, to live, if nothing else.
But I don't have it in me to ask him to love again.
I certainly don't know that I could stomach it. Finding someone else. Loving them - letting Frank go. I'd never be able to give them all the pieces of myself; Frank has all of them already. He'd take a few of them with him, if he left me.
I know he feels the same way.
"I'll wait for you." I murmur. "That's how much I love you. If I can, I'll wait."
"You don't believe in Heaven." He whispers it.
I've seen too many corpses, too much horror, to believe in a place so pure.
"If it lets me see you again, I'll believe in it."
"You should have been a writer," He chuckles, "Or a philosopher. Maybe you'll join the ranks of Aristotle and Socrates - you've always loved writing about them."
"Don't let people see my draft essays, then." I wince, "Only show the world the finished ones, okay?"
"What about the poems and the stories?"
I scowl against his laugh, "Absolutely not the poems, fucking hell. They can have the stories though; the folklore and myths and fairy tales. Maybe I'll spend some time finishing a few."
"You should."
We stand in silence for the while, looking up at the galaxy.
"Nevaeh, love?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
I turn to look at him, find him wearing a wretched, nervous expression.
"Of course."
"It's a bad time," He mutters, and his forearms are braced against the lip of the parapet. He's not looking at me, or up at the sky, but into the dark void of the world. "And if you say no, I get it. Don't say yes if you don't mean it. You wouldn't, anyway, I know that, so-"
"Frank?" I touch his wrist.
"Nevaeh," He turns to me, and his eyes are black in this light. His skin is very pale, and his hands very warm. There's shadows in the space under his eyes, and beneath his sharp cheekbones and angular jaw. "Will you marry me?"
For a moment, I feel like I've been dropped into the sea.
Not calm waters, either, but the surf. A great push and pull of the tide, which washes up, over me, and forces me down. It's the first time in weeks, months, that I feel absolutely freezing cold.
I can't breathe, either.
"I did it as traditionally as I could," He says, a little desperate, because I'm frozen solid. "I asked John. He didn't like the idea, so I asked Kyle. He's the closest thing you have to your old life, I figured. Knew your father, and your mother."
"What did Kyle say?" My lips are numb. I don't know how I get the words out.
"Said he'd love to see your face when I popped the question. Said you deserved to be asked." Frank's eyes do not leave my face. He's speaking robotically too.
It's like we're both in the middle of separate panic attacks.
"I got a ring."
How in the ever-loving fuck did he get me a ring?
I don't realise I've spoken out loud until he scoffs. "It's recycled. The soldiers picked up a lot when they went out scavenging at the start of the outbreak. Suppose it was a while before any of them realised that gold and money and diamonds weren't worth anything. There was a whole box of jewellery in the bunker."
He holds out his hand, and all I can see is a little glinting circle. No detail in this light.
"Frank, I-"
"I know it makes no difference to you." He says, firmly. Like he's prepared a speech and practiced it and he's determined to get it out. "You love me, and I love you, and it's that simple. It hasn't been simple for us, not... Not at the beginning, or through the middle, it's not fucking simple now, at the end. But when you're gone, when people ask what you were to me, I want to give them a simple answer. I don't want to say your boyfriend - it's not big enough, not concrete enough. I'd prefer to be your husband, but I can live with fiancé."
"But, Frank," I try to clear my head, think rationally. "Are you sure you want to be linked to me like that? Forever? If things go back to the way they were, even a little bit, that's what you'll be known for, you know?"
"I know." There's no doubt in his voice. "I want the world to know you were loved. As a woman, not as a solider, or a cure, or a martyr. You were real, and loved, and you gave up a future for everyone else."
"But is it what you want?" I demand, "To be a widow before you can even be a husband? What if... What if it makes it hard for someone else to love you?"
"Don't be stupid." He scoffs. "I'm yours, Nevaeh. There's no changing that."
And maybe I want to be remembered as his.
"You're not even going to get down on one knee?"
He sends me a scathing, sideways look. Huffs, straightens, before he turns and drops down.
"Will you marry me, Nevaeh?" He asks again, voice braced for rejection. Already halfway through a wince, like he thinks I'm messing around.
"Yes." I say, because it's a simple question. It's an easy decision - the easiest decision I've ever made.
"Pardon?"
"I said yes, you moron. Why bother asking if you assumed I'd say no?"
"Thought it was worth a try," He says, voice distant. "Do you want the ring?"
"Is there a diamond on it?"
"Think so."
"Sure, then." I hold out my hand, and he slides the ring home. Third finger in. I don't bother looking down at it. "You okay? Frank?"
"Think I'm in shock," He mutters, "Think I need a minute to breathe."
"I'll just wait to be kissed then, shall I? Great fiancé you're shaping up to be."
The word seems to jolt him to life, and he's on his feet in a moment and I'm in his arms the next.
He kisses me until my head is swimming. And when we're both panting, we strip bare and fuck beneath the galaxy. I feel immortal. I feel never-ending. I could live forever in this moment with him.
It's happiness, I feel beneath the stars. Pure, genuine joy.
***
On the fourth day, I marry Frank.
It's a tiny ceremony.
There's a small church in the community, with an accompanying priest. There are no fancy decorations, nor long, complicated vows from either of us. We don't want it to be a big fuss, and we want to keep it as private as possible. I don't want the attention, and Frank isn't bothered about anything at all as long as the ceremony happens.
Bizarrely, Grace tries to stop us.
"It'll make matters after the procedure entirely too complicated!" She exclaimed in Tully's office that morning, she even stomped her foot.
After the procedure was technical speak for after she killed me.
"How is this anything at all to do with you?" Frank had demanded.
"It adds unnecessary red tape! We'd have to ask your permission to carry out further procedures on Nevaeh's body-"
I'd balked, "What in the fuck were you planning to do with me?"
"Further tests!" She shrieked, "A thorough autopsy! You're a scientific miracle, and there are questions to be answered. We'd need your organs, we'd need plenty of samples-"
"First off," Frank held up a hand, "You're out of your fucking mind, lady. Second, thank you for providing a perfectly reasonable excuse for this to happen today. You're not cutting up Nevaeh to experiment on like some fucking Frankenstein monster. I'll be her next of kin, as her husband, which means her body and her belongings fall to me, right?"
I hadn't even thought of that - who would get my things, where they'd all end up. I didn't want things to be bartered away and sold off.
Maybe I wouldn't be as big a deal as Frank assumed; I wouldn't end up amongst the greats, or a name that echoed through time, like Caesar, or Boudicca, or Achilles. Humans who'd turned to legends. I doubted it, honestly. Maybe they'd struggle to rebuild, maybe things would never go back to the way they were. I'd be forgotten, disappear into obscurity.
On the off chance that things do turn out for the better, I certainly don't want to be a tourist attraction.
Nor a science experiment - never at peace. Never allowed a dignified funeral.
Tully and Frank and Grace had been shouting over each other by the time I'd made up my mind.
"We're getting married today," I said, and they'd all stopped to look at me. "I'm a little young, and the timing is awful, but it's happening today. If it doesn't, I'll cut my throat now and you can collect the blood you need from Tully's carpet."
"You're nothing but a spoiled child, Nevaeh Dailey!" Grace stormed.
"Yeah, yeah. In a couple of days you'll get to kill me for it. Silver linings, and all that."
No one gives me away; I thought of asking Natalie, and then John, then Gerard, then Kyle. But in the end, I want to walk towards Frank on my own.
Though I did take a moment to imagine mum and dad on either side of me. Lillie and Orchid in the front pew, Riley fussing to be on both their laps.
I don't cry - Frank does.
There's a small dinner straight after, for our closest friends and family. Gerard makes a tearful speech, and Kyle tells embarrassing stories from when we were kids.
We're given a 'Honeymoon Suite' as a surprise after dinner.
"What in the fuck is this?" I splutter. Frank's too busy laughing.
"Well, we figured you'd want the day alone tomorrow." Tully is at the door, looking reluctant to venture inside. "As newly-weds, and all that. There's enough food to last until breakfast on your sixth day, Nevaeh. The TV works, and there's DVDs. Not sure you'll be needing them, of course." He clears his throat, gruff.
I want to sink into the floor and die of embarrassment.
"Thank you, Major." I say, stiff as a board.
"You're welcome, Captain." He salutes without making eye contact, using my new title. "Congratulations, Dailey."
He leaves, as quick as he can.
"Why are you British people so weirdly awkward about sex?" Frank snorts.
"Because it's a private matter," I glare at him, "Sorry that we're not all weirdly in touch with our feelings like you yanks."
He rolls his eyes.
It's little more than a different room on a different floor of the glass headquarters.
But it's bigger, more like a studio apartment, with a king size bed, neatly made and decorated with scattered white feathers. There's actual windows, which look out over the community. There's a tiny kitchen and a porcelain tub in the separate bathroom.
"Suppose it's not the season for fresh flower petals." I slap my hand down in the middle of our bed, watch the feathers fly up and flutter back down.
Frank smooths aside the veil of my hair from behind. Presses kisses the length of my neck, from the base of my skull to the top of my spine. "Suppose not." He agrees quietly.
I lean back against him and close my eyes.
He slips his arms around my waist and holds me tightly. His mouth is damp and warm on my flesh. He touches me with such care, like I'm something precious. Something that could easily slip away from him.
What a... Ridiculous situation to be in.
"Nevaeh?" He retreats an inch.
"Yeah?" My voice is garbled.
"You're crying, sweetheart." He uses my hips to turn me, takes my face in his hands. "Jeez, Nevaeh, what happened?"
"I'm sorry." I sniffle, wiggling out of his grip so I can scrub at my eyes. "I-... I dunno. I'm just-" A pathetic sob gathers in my throat and will not be swallowed down. "This is supposed to be the start of the rest of our lives, you know?"
My vision is blurry at best, but clear enough that I can see the absolute heartbreak that crumples Frank's face. He blinks hard, screws his face up, tries to take a big, deep breath.
"I know, love." His whisper is a choked, sorrowful thing. "Fucking hell, I wish it were."
"Me too."
Frank encourages me back into the circle of his arms and I bury my face in his neck. We do end up in the middle of the piles of white feathers, but only so he can hold me close. I cry for a long time - for everything we have, and everything we've lost.
***
"Shall I run you a bath?"
I stopped crying a while ago, but he's not stopped stroking his hand over my hair. My breathing has evened, and the wet spot on his shirt has dried under my cheek. Now I'm just curled around him, torso on his, legs tangled, arms hooked under his shoulders.
"What time is it?" I ask.
He lifts his arm to consult his watch. "Just after midnight. Not too late."
"I could manage a sneaky bath, I guess." I say, and he chuckles.
"No problem, Captain Dailey." He kisses my forehead and disentangles himself. I curl into the warm spot he's left on the mattress.
I didn't take Frank's last name; couldn't bare it.
Our family name belonged to my mother, not my father. He took her surname when they married, because he didn't want to pass on the name of his own father, who he hated. My father had wanted the name of the woman he loved instead. And I've already lost my mother's eyes, deep brown for bright blue, so I couldn't stomach giving her name away.
And during our dinner, Tully had announced they were making me a Captain. I'm not even a member of the British Army, but he said it was more of an honorary title. For extraordinary exploits, battle prowess, and services to my Queen and country.
Not that... I'm sure the Queen is still alive.
"It's ready, darlin'." Frank gives my ankle a squeeze, and I drag myself off the bed with a deep groan.
He undresses me in the bathroom - his hands are gentle, and they linger. Not salaciously, but with great care and reverence. His palms ghost over the curves of my hips and shoulders, his fingertips following the scores of old scars.
"Thank you for wearing a dress for me," He murmurs, as he encourages my knees up, one at a time, so I can step out of the smooth fabric. "Very brave of you."
I grin, "Shaved too."
"I noticed." His expression stays smooth, but I can tell he's fighting a laugh.
"You're welcome."
"I didn't thank you for shaving."
I test the bath by going down to my knees in the tub. He's added bubbles - something I'm surprised the community was able to provide - and they gather around my navel. Frank is watching the water bob against my damp flesh, turning my hips and stomach pink.
"Well, I know you're going to appreciate it later." I wiggle my eyebrows.
He makes a show of gagging at my joke and wipes a line of bubbles down the bridge of my nose. Then he settles with his back to the edge of the bath, facing away from me but keeping close.
I'm reclined now, fully submerged and feeling toasty.
"You're not getting in?"
"That tub is not big enough for us both, Nevaeh."
"We could top and tail-"
"We're not getting both our asses in there, sweetheart."
"I'll lay on you then, or you could lay on me-"
"And one of us have our asses freezing cold hanging out of the water?"
I stew for a while, languishing in my hot bath, moving my hands through the bubbles. They're dissipating quickly.
"You looked beautiful today."
I shake my hand free of water as best I can so I can scrunch my fingers through his hair. I get the back of his head and neck wet, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"It wasn't a proper wedding dress."
It was borrowed - as close to white as we could manage. It came to my shins, but flared nicely at the waist, ending at my forearms in intricate lace. Natalie and Alissa helped me look for the dress, then helped me get ready. I left my hair down, but Alissa insisted on some make-up.
"No," He agrees, "But you still looked beautiful. More than I could have asked for - would have asked for. You could have been wearing your combat boots and a hoodie and I still would have blubbered like a baby at the altar."
My heart feels like it swells in my chest.
"You really don't mind that I didn't take your last name?"
He tuts, "Course I don't. Feels like a miracle you even said yes to me. I understand why you can't and I'm grateful it even happened."
Silly man, for being totally unaware of how devoted I am to him. I stew in the warm water for a while, until I can't wait any longer.
"You looked very handsome, too." He hasn't changed, so he's still in the simple white button down and black trousers he'd been wearing at the altar.
His laugh is more of a giggle, "Thanks, sweetheart."
I feel much more awake now, and decidedly less sad. I'm not going to cry again tonight, I vow. Or tomorrow. We only get one day together, one whole day to ourselves, totally alone, and I'm not going to waste it.
My skin squeaks against the porcelain as I shift onto my knees.
Leaning over his shoulder, I nuzzle in and press a kiss to the spot behind his ear. He tenses.
"You're my husband." I murmur.
His chest swells and lifts, then deflates. A big, steadying breath in.
I inch a little lower and kiss the side of his neck. My lips part, and I suck his flesh into my mouth, and I bite down. Only a little nip, not enough to break the skin.
Frank's breath is a shuddering exhale. "You did that to me at Stonehenge. Thought I was going to die when you sucked on my throat. Do you remember?"
I hum and do it again, a little harder. "I wanted you more than anything in that moment. And now you're all mine."
"I've been yours since the moment we met, Nevaeh."
I loop my arms around his shoulders, soaking his shirt in rivulets of bubbly, warm water.
"Pretty sure you dislocated my shoulder the moment we met, so that's a bit weird."
He laughs, wrapping a hand around one wrist to give it a squeeze.
"Not my fault you smacked into me with all the grace of a fucking train."
I smile into his skin. "I love you."
"And I love you."
I hum happily and nuzzle at his cheekbone, "Can we have sex now?"
"You're not a subtle woman, Nevaeh." He laughs, "You think you can call me handsome and bite my neck and I'll be seduced?"
"Like you're not hard already-"
"I'm not!"
"Liar." I scoff, "Come on, Frank. Make love to your wife."
He spins in my arms, up onto his knees, only to level a glare. His cheeks are pink and his hair is damp from my greedy hands.
"It's weird when you call it that." He accuses.
"What would you prefer?" I exaggerate a pout, "Let's make magic together, Frank-"
"Stop." He orders, reaching for my arms.
"Take me to bed and ravage me, husband-"
"You're the worst." He groans, but manages to draw me into the circle of his arms, crushing my slick torso to his chest. I soak his shirt, and water splashes the floor.
I open my mouth to say something else, something dirtier, but his mouth smothers mine.
His fingers trail up my spine, around the back of my neck, squeezing as they settle. His tongue is in my mouth, and my hands pluck at his buttons. I free him of his shirt, smooth my hands - warm, for once - along his flesh.
"Take me to bed," I order, all humour lost.
He stands, and water splashes as he hoists me up around his waist. "Yes, ma'am."
***
"I brought your notebooks."
I look up from my breakfast, or... Lunch, really. The sun had been up a long while before I managed to creak my eyes open.
Frank and I barely managed a few hours of sleep. Not that I mind.
"Why?" I ask, sucking syrup from my thumb.
He's watching my mouth and his throat bobs unsteadily. I grin.
"Fuck off," He scowls, because he knows what I'm up to. "I thought you could update them a little today. While we had time alone."
"I rather thought we'd be busy for most of the day."
He rolls his hazel eyes and gives my ankle a nudge under the table. "We can't have sex all day, Nevaeh. Do you want my dick to fall off?"
"Coward," I mutter, and he laughs.
"Come here," He orders, motioning.
Rounding the table, I slide into his lap without protest. He gathers me close, my legs either side of his hips, his arms looped round my waist, mine around his shoulders.
"We've got time, love." His voice is calm, his grip certain. "We don't have to panic, or force it, okay? We've got all day, and all night, and we've still got tomorrow."
My jaw clenches and I have to look away.
Irritating of him, to see right through me. To notice the fear lingering under my teasing.
"That's all we have though." I murmur.
The windows show a grey day, with rain on the horizon, it seems. Typical English weather - the apocalypse hasn't changed that. Corpses may walk the Earth, but the rain is inevitable.
Just like my death. There's just... There's so little time.
"It's not nearly enough," He agrees, and his palms are on my cheeks, and they're very gentle and very warm. "But it's more than some people get. Some people don't get a love of their lives, Nevaeh. Don't get to love like this at all. It's a shit, horrific situation, but we've been lucky."
"To find each other." I say, because that's what he means.
"Exactly." He kisses my forehead, "Even though I'm going to lose you, I wouldn't choose to have never known you. It's going to hurt, but it's worth it; you've always been worth it."
"Oh, fuck off." I mutter, already pulling at the waistband of his shorts, "You can't say stuff like that and expect me to keep my cool."
He's laughing, and then groaning as I sink onto him.
"I'll write today," I murmur into his mouth, "Soon as we're done here."
His grip on me tightens, and I'm glad.