Thread: The Day the Lights Went Out [Langschwert x Cal]

When she felt the hand upon her shoulder, her reaction was instant and near primal, after having had such a close encounter with Eaters and death. Her emotions were on the edge, her nerves frazzled, so she jerked her shoulder away from his hand and took a few steps back, narrowingly avoiding her own pool of vomit. She would not have been pleased if her bare feet her Converse had given up long ago, and she wanted to preserve the two other pairs she had, had stepped into that little pool.. Making sure to keep distance between the two, she listened to his words with growing suspicion. The gentle smile he shot was slightly disarming, and before long he withdrew again, leaving Catherine feeling cold in the shade. When she stepped out into the sun, nothing really changed. She wrapped her arms around her body as she shivered in the sun, struggling to fight the tears. Michael certainly seemed to have the right intentions, but the months of isolation had given Catherine a near skittish characteristic. She was suspicious of everything. Yet he had smiled at her, and told her that if she needed to talk, she could come to him.. It would be nice to chat with someone of her own age, or seemingly close to. Once shed calm her breathing, shed wait a few minutes longer, letting the sun soak into her skin and warm her up. Soon she stopped shivering, and moved out to the front of the cabin. The sight that met her made the blood rush to her cheeks. It was true that the sun was nigh blistering and took a long time to set, so it was perfectly logical for the men to be in this state of undress. Even she often walked about in her little summer dresses and skirts, anything to combat the scorching heat. However, seeing her savior put the tents up in nothing but those jeans, rooted Catherine to the ground for different reasons entirely. She felt her heart pound in her throat for a brief moment, her eyes wide once more, but this time they roamed over Michaels upper body, looking quite like a deer caught in the headlights. Until her youngest sister nigh but tackled her and snapped her out of her reverie. Adoration seemed to be gaining the upper hand from its fight with Distaste. As the day wore on, Catherine was trying to avoid both Michael and the cabin like the plague, despite the fact that the Eaters had been carried out and burnt in the fields, far enough away that the putrid smell could not reach them. The blood would still be there though, but so were her clothes, her belongings.. the only things she had left to remind her of who she was before all this shit happened. At one point, her father called her to him, standing dangerously close to the front door of the cabin. It made her nervous, and she wrapped her arms around her once more. He berated her for not mingling with the new saviors, for being a selfish little girl. Luckily, he spoke in hushed tones, so none of the newcomers could hear. She was to be nice to them and act her age. This infuriated her, but Catherine nodded her head slowly regardless and accepted her fathers command. The newcomers had, after all, brought so much food, more food than Catherine had seen in weeks. Baked beans and canned fruits were not a diet for a young teenager. The potatoes were a delight, but the pork stunned her into silence and for a moment, she was nothing but grateful for the people who had saved her and her family. When the music started playing, she even found herself enjoying it, if only a tad. It was crude and unlike anything shed listened to in her free time, and she it wasnt likely that she would download this type of music had she still had her devices and internet, but it was.. enjoyable. Simple. It tugged a smile at the corner of her lips as she watched Michael play his guitar, and for a moment, it seemed that she was amongst friends at a bonfire. For a heartbeat, it seemed as if the world had not changed at all. Unfortunately that moment too, passed, as her mother interjected and ushered Catherine and her sisters to sleep. She shared a bed with her sisters inside the cabin, and more often than not she had chosen to sleep on the couch instead. But that bed was inside the cabin, and her parents didnt seem too keen on stepping a foot into that cursed structure, either. Her parents had opted to stay outside with the rest of them. For safety. For some strange sense of human belonging. Her father was talking in hushed tones to one of the men who had attacked the Eaters, and Catherine was laying next to her sisters in the tent that the newcomers had erected for them. Slowly. the music and sounds outside hushed to small conversations, which ebbed away into whispers and soon even those died. Sleep, however, did not come to her. Somewhere she heard someone snore. She heard a giggle. But apart from that, all was quiet. Minutes trickled by, she heard how her sisters had started falling asleep, and yet.. it did not come to her. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the wheezing, deformed, harrowing face of the Eater staring her down. It made her nauseous. It made her panic. With a sigh, she crawled out of the tent and stretched her arms high above her head, breathing in the nights air. There was something surreal about the sight that met her. Tents pitched everywhere, the warm night welcoming them. The first human beings she had encountered in six months. It was an odd feeling, and Catherine found herself struggling with the basic concept of human interaction. It frustrated her, being the little socialite that she was, but it seemed a lifetime ago. It had been a lifetime ago. Suddenly she heard a soft noise of a guitar, sometimes a string was struck, ever so lightly. Her feet moved towards the sound instantly, the silence was making her panic, she had to interact with someone somehow. However, when she reached the rear of one of the wagons, she was slightly surprised to see Michael awake, and instantly embarrassed as she stood there, awkwardly. Oh. It's you. Once upon a time shed flip her hair and act flirtatious, but not today. Instead, she raised her right hand to rub her left arm. Cant sleep. She said as an excuse. Almost instantly followed by How many have you killed? It was obvious she was ready for some kind of human interaction, the trauma still fresh in her mind. Catherine leaned against the wagon, watching Michael expectantly, as if she was demanding him to talk to her.