𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. |

🦋 dominic10 🦋

[ 3:10 PM ]

"how is max the name of this new virus strain?" i question.

i sit across from her as she's deep in thought. she slowly nibbles on a shoestring french fry.

after practicing for over an hour, we decided to get something to eat to gain our strength back. walking here was exhausting.

she passed up a few places before settling on this place. she wanted a booth, so here we are.

her jean jacket is off and propped next to her. two chicken tenders and a small basket of fries sit in front of her.

"i might be wrong," she starts, "but if your max is the max MAX20 is named, then that could mean that your max is patient zero."

i numb myself to his death. i think that he's just back in our new apartment, alive and well. waiting for me to come back to tell him about my powers and a beautiful girl who's got powers too.

except none of that is true.

"then what does that mean?" i ask her.

"that means he's number one of infect-"

"i know what patient zero means," i interrupt, scolding her. "i mean if he's number one and the start of this, he could've been the host. he could've been injected with the virus-"

"oh my god! what if whoever made the virus also made our powers!"

"yeah but have you ran into any mad men?"

"it could be a woman," she says flipping me off, "and no, but i sure as hell don't know what happens when i close my eyes and drift off to sleep."

she's not wrong.

but she could be.

"this isn't going anywhere; trading conspiracies back and forth. i wanna talk about something else," i tell her.

we're gonna drive ourselves mad trying to figure this out with no information to go off of.

"okay," she says, dusting her fingers of salt. "what?"

"i'd rather get to know you," i say eating a forkful of my salad.

"what do you want to know?"

"hmm... everything i guess," i shrug. "i want to know everything before you met me."

she sits back in the booth staring at me with an expression i can't decipher.

"why?"

"i'm curious."

"curiosity killed the cat," she answers.

"did the cat have superpowers? no? therefore that's irrelevant."

"tell me about you," she states changing the subject, literally.

"i asked first."

she rolls her eyes.

"i'm not into attachments," she says shaking her head.

"but we're sticking together are we not?"

"you know, despite the virus people are still sitting and eating in this restaurant."

"soraya."

"don't call me that."

"what are you afraid of? why can't you just talk to me?" i ask her, staring in her eyes, trying to find a simple glimpse of compassion.

how can she feel and see what we can do, and still want to leave?

is it me?

do i scare her?

have i not proved myself to her?

a huge clang comes from the kitchen and everyone in the restaurant draws their attention to the only door that leads to the noise.

people start whispering amongst themselves in confusion.

a woman bursts through the kitchen door, blood running down her face.

she falls to the floor convulsing.

"we should go!" ray rushes. we stand together, and rush out. "that shit will never get easier to see," she shivers. people from inside, file out. some shrieking, others running like no tomorrow.

which in this case could very well be.

"fuck! i left my jacket!"

"i'll go get it," i offer.

"no!" she states, grabbing my arm a bit dramatically. "leave it. let's just get far away from here."

we walk side by side, a paranoid silence sitting in the air.

"what the hell is going on?" she whispers, not taking her eyes off the ground.

"where you gonna go tonight?" i ask her.

she looks at me then back to the ground.

"my place. we'll meet in the morning," she orders.

"your mom?"

"what about her?"

"i know you just didn't ask that question."

she sighs.

"i don't know dominic. i don't really want to do anything with her. she can rot in that stupid apartment. i wouldn't give a damn, but i've seen movies so that's not possible."

"so what are you going to do?"

"do you so happen to own a large rug?"