Shots and Smiles [iv]
Chapter 7(iv)
POV: Grey
By the time I made it back, night had swallowed the base.
Muted lamps lined the perimeter, casting yellow halos through the fog. Fires crackled in metal drums. Laughter drifted from a corner of the sleeping quarters—faint, careless.
I passed them without a word.
Luke's voice carried through the half-closed tent flap. "I'm just saying, if she's gonna sneak in here, at least let her know I snore after."
A girl laughed—breathy, unfamiliar. Beds creaked. Jonah groaned dramatically.
"Can we not relive Grey's personal Olympics every night?" Jonah muttered from his cot.
Blair threw a crumpled jacket at him. "Not Grey this time. Guess who's joined the scoreboard."
"Oh, come on," Jane muttered, tossing her arm over her eyes.
"New girl with the scar," Blair added, grinning. "Came in last week. Clearly has low standards."
Jonah snorted. "Luke's charm is basically budget cologne and bad decisions."
Luke replied between kisses. "Still works."
I didn't stay to hear the rest.
---
Hours passed.
The tent was silent now. Breath patterns slowed. No more jokes. No creaking beds. Just the rustle of wind outside and the occasional shift of someone turning in sleep.
I sat upright.
Couldn't sleep.
Didn't try.
I pulled on my jacket and stepped out quietly. The sky was beginning to pale—just enough for the world to exist again.
Then it hit.
A whisper of scent. Faint. Lingering in the corridor near the showers.
Lavender.
Not soap.
Not from here.
Not real.
It hit harder than it should've.
---
> > 1 year ago <<
The lab was quieter at night—machines dimmed, monitors humming low.
Eva always snuck in after curfew. Her hair would be damp, her skin smelling of lavender and metal and something softer I never had the words for.
She sat beside me, knees pulled to her chest.
"I used to hate quiet," she said.
I looked over.
She didn't meet my eyes. "It used to mean loneliness. But with you… it's just quiet."
I said nothing. She always filled the silence in a way that didn't need fixing.
"Do you think it'll work?" she asked suddenly.
I didn't pretend to misunderstand. "No."
She gave a hollow smile. "Me neither."
Then softer, "But I want it to."
That pause before she leaned into me—before she reached for my hand—was the closest I'd felt to alive in years.
She never said it out loud.
Neither did I.
But some truths don't need words.
---
> > Present <<
I exhaled slowly.
Eva always snuck in after curfew. Her hair would be damp, her skin smelling of lavender and metal and something softer I never had the words for.
She sat beside me, knees pulled to her chest.
"I used to hate quiet," she said.
I looked over.
She didn't meet my eyes. "It used to mean loneliness. But with you… it's just quiet."
I said nothing. She always filled the silence in a way that didn't need fixing.
"Do you think it'll work?" she asked suddenly.
I didn't pretend to misunderstand. "No."
She gave a hollow smile. "Me neither."
Then softer, "But I want it to."
That pause before she leaned into me—before she reached for my hand—was the closest I'd felt to alive in years.
She never said it out loud.
Neither did I.
But some truths don't need words.
---
> > Present <<
I exhaled slowly.
That version of her—the one before the screams, before the tests, before the alarms—was slipping through my fingers like smoke.
I clenched them uselessly.
And still… her scent lingered.
She wasn't a ghost. Not yet.
I wasn't sure if that was a comfort or a warning.
---
POV: Luke
The sun wasn't fully up yet, but I felt her legs still tangled in mine, warm beneath the blanket.
Her name… honestly, I didn't remember.
Didn't ask.
Didn't matter.
She stirred slightly, pressing into my chest with a sleepy murmur. I eased out from under her arm and sat up, rubbing at my eyes.
The inside of the tent smelled like sweat and faded alcohol. Not exactly the kind of morning I used to imagine growing up, but… this was life now.
I pulled on my shirt and stepped out quietly, letting the flap fall shut behind me.
Outside, the camp buzzed low—soldiers starting shifts, boots crunching gravel, a radio crackling near the mess line. But the air felt stiller than usual. Tense.
I spotted Grey ahead, standing near the fencing with his back to everything. Distant. Motionless.
Some people stand guard.
Grey watches the world like it owes him answers.
I thought about going over, maybe asking how the recon went ,what the paper he was holding onto was.
I didn't.
Instead, I grabbed a canteen and sat near the edge of the truck bed, elbows on my knees, sipping water and watching the sun climb.
Last night's thrill already felt hollow.
I didn't even know if I'd see that girl again—not because she'd left, but because maybe I would.
There was always a mission. Always something closing in.
And if I died tomorrow, I don't think anyone here would really know who I was before all this. Not even Jane. Maybe Grey would.
Maybe not even me.
I looked back at Grey, just once.
His shoulders were stiff. Not tired—tense. Like he was holding something in that might break him open if he let it out.
I knew that look.
I wore it once, too.
Before the world ended.