Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)

It's that feeling

I was lying on Troy's chest. He was silently twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. It seemed like an ordinary day of ordinary life, that nothing threatened us, that we were just lying on the floor, but not in someone else's abandoned house, but in our own. I remembered my home in Madrid. The past is not as easy to get rid of as it seems. I still wanted to wake up from the nightmare of the new world. When your life was perfect and then changed drastically, and not for the better, of course you want to turn back time. Closing my eyes for a few seconds, I tried to imagine Aron lying next to me. For some reason, it didn't work. We'd never felt such animal desire for each other. It had all happened rather nobly: always in bed, always tenderly, and now we were lying on the floor, some things lying around splinters. No, it was impossible with Aron. I loved him, but we didn't have the passion I had with Troy. I don't know if it was a new love or at least a crush, but I was worried about how much I missed everything that had gone before. My thoughts were cut short by Troy's voice:

"What are you thinking about?"

"About the men we heard," I lied.

"After having sex with me you think about other men, should I be jealous?" he said with irony.

I grinned:

"I don't think you can be jealous at all."

"Does anyone compare to me?" his ironic tone persisted.

He stood up and leaned over me. Our eyes met. We stared at each other in silence for a couple minutes. Then he put his arms around me.

"I wish I could stay here longer, Troy."

"And I want it too. But we need to find your sister and get back to the ranch," his voice became habitually indifferent, "And you know, when we get back, you're moving into my room. I hate this running around like my brother has with Alisha."

I was a little unprepared for that suggestion, so I stayed silent. Quickly throwing on his shirt, I stood up and started picking the rest of my clothes off the floor. Troy got up as well and, from the sound of it, put on his pants. A couple seconds later, I felt his warm hands on my waist. He leaned his cheek against my ear and asked in a rough whisper:

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I don't know what to say."

"It's enough just to agree."

"And if I don't want to?"

"You have no choice, I'm not asking, I'm telling you how it will be."

There's a nasty, oppressive feeling spreading like molasses in my chest. It was the first time I'd slept with someone since Aron, even though I thought it would never happen again. But it was one thing to have sex (it meant a lot to me, too, of course), and quite another to live with someone again. It meant going to sleep and waking up together regularly, and having some sort of commitment. It wasn't even that I didn't fully understand my feelings for him. It wasn't about him. It was just that I was not ready to let a man back into my life, it was as if I didn't really need it anymore. I learned to do everything for myself. I didn't need anyone anymore. And the world had changed, I didn't see the point in any relationship. That's probably why Troy caught my eye. On a subconscious level, it seemed to me that he wasn't drowning in family values.

"You're not my superior, Troy."

"Actually, you're on my squad," he joked.

"Is sex with subordinates a habit for you, boss?" I asked playfully.

"First time breaking the rules," he smiled, " And seriously, why don't we live together??"

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just weird, I mean we didn't even know each other until a couple days ago."