Dash

It’s been a week since that quiet day with Sage, letting things settle without all the noise. Something’s shifted since then—small, but I feel it. Her hand finds mine more naturally, the way we move around each other feels… easy, like we’re not just two people trying to make it work, but something close.

The night’s heavy, quiet around us. We’re side by side in the lean-to, each lost in our thoughts, but somehow not alone. She shifts a bit closer, her shoulder brushing mine. Feels natural. She’s quiet for a long time before she finally speaks, voice low. “Mara and I… we’ve been talking.” She pauses, a little cautious. “We came up with an idea to keep the girls safer.” She hesitates, glancing at me, checking my reaction. “We’re thinking about setting up a system where the young, unmarried women are ‘promised’ to someone in camp.”

I frown. “Promised?”

“Yeah. If the Accord thinks the girls are already ‘claimed,’ they’re less likely to see them as… free for the taking.” There’s a hard edge to her voice, and I can tell she hates it but feels it’s necessary.

“That could work,” I agree.

I can feel the warmth of her hand resting in mine, her fingers shifting slightly as I trace slow circles over her knuckles. It’s a familiar touch, but tonight, it feels… different. Like there’s something unsaid between us.

After a minute, I clear my throat. “Branson and Eli have an idea too, could keep the Accord off our backs for a while.” She turns her head to look at me, listening close.

“They want to offer the Accord water access at their main camp,” I explain, letting the words hang there. “Run a diverter from the stream here, pipe it five miles out. It’d be their own water supply, keeps them from leaning on us.”

She tightens her grip on my hand, a subtle squeeze that hits me deeper than it should. “So… give them what they need, without letting them drain us?” Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

I nod, and she shifts closer, her knee brushing against mine. The contact lights something up in me, makes it hard to focus on anything else.

She considers it, brow furrowing. “It’s risky,” she murmurs, half to herself. “But it might be worth it.” She looks up, eyes meeting mine in a way that feels… open, like she’s letting me see more of her than she usually does. She’s close, really close, and I don’t think she notices.

“Yeah,” I murmur back, voice rough. I let my thumb brush the inside of her wrist, feel her pulse there, steady and warm.

For a moment, she’s quiet, gaze flicking down, lingering on my mouth before she looks back at me. She’s close enough that I could lean in if I wanted to, close enough that I don’t know if I’d stop if I did. My pulse picks up, an instinct pulling me closer—but I hold back, feeling the weight of everything between us.

It’s not that I don’t want to. I do, more than I’d admit to anyone, especially her. But we’re in the middle of camp issues that demand every bit of our focus, threats from the Accord hanging over our heads. Kissing her now would feel selfish, like adding complications she doesn’t need, like risking what’s kept us solid. She deserves someone steady, someone she can rely on without question. Right now, I need to be that person for her, no matter what I feel pressing at the edges of this silence between us.

Instead, I give her hand a small, steady squeeze, letting the warmth settle in. I let her set the pace, the way she always does—she’ll let me know if that’s what she wants, in her own time. And when the time’s right? Hell, I’ll know. So for now, I just hold on, the moment stretching between us, and hope that moment’s not far off.

“You’re right,” she says softly, voice catching a little. “It could be worth it.”

She lets her hand slip from mine, only to press it to my chest, fingers spreading out over my heartbeat. It’s grounding, solid. My hand finds its way to her back, pulling her in just a little, until her head rests on my shoulder. I keep my hold light, aware of the tension between us, but unable to pull away.

I lean my head closer to hers, my voice just a murmur in the quiet space. “You should tell Branson about your idea with the girls,” I say, feeling the words rumble low between us. “He’ll listen to you, Sage.”

She hesitates, her fingers pressing gently against my chest, like she’s gathering courage. “You really think so?” she asks, voice almost lost in the space between us.

“Yeah,” I reply, meaning it. “You’re stronger than you realize. This camp needs that.” I trace a slow line down her back with my thumb, feeling her muscles relax. “Branson trusts you,” I add, my breath brushing her temple.

She looks up at me, face close to mine, and for a second, everything’s quiet. She lifts her hand from my chest to rest against my neck, and neither of us breathes as her thumb moves, light but steady.

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She gives a small nod, mouth lifting in a faint smile. “Alright,” she whispers. “I’ll tell him.”

I return her smile, but stay close, letting her hand on my neck keep me grounded. The moment stretches between us, and then I let my forehead rest gently against hers, just a steady, quiet connection.

Her hand slips back into mine, fingers threading together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And as silence settles over us again, there’s a warmth there that feels like a promise, something solid, something building.

Sage

The morning sun filters softly through the trees, and I can’t shake the nerves that pulse just beneath my skin. Branson had listened to my idea about the girls, surprisingly attentive and nodding in agreement, though his face remained unreadable. And now, after discussions with the Accord, there’s finally some movement on the pipeline plan. I hadn’t expected the Accord to agree so quickly, but they took the bait: help them gain their own access to the stream, and they’ll pull their men back from our edges once the project’s done.

It feels like a small victory, even if it’s temporary.

I take a steadying breath as I head back toward the main camp. I spot Dash talking with Mara and a couple of others, his posture relaxed but alert as always. His gaze finds me easily, and the faintest hint of a smile touches his mouth as I approach. It’s subtle but feels like more than just a good morning; it’s a shared acknowledgment of everything that’s shifted between us lately.

He signs to me across camp How are you?

Good, I sign back. I continue toward him until we are close enough to talk.

“How’d it go with Branson?” he asks as I step up beside him, voice low but warm, like he’s genuinely invested.

I manage a small smile. “Better than I expected. He actually agreed to the idea, and after that, the talks with the Accord went surprisingly… smooth. They agreed to move back from the southern edge once the pipeline is finished.” I let out a breath, feeling the weight of it settle—a bit lighter now. “It’s… progress, at least.”

Dash’s hand rests lightly on my shoulder, grounding me, and it’s a gesture that feels both familiar and new. “That’s a big win,” he murmurs, his eyes holding mine for a moment. “And it’s because of you.”

I feel a warmth spread through me, though I brush it off. “We’ll see if it actually works. They’re still going to be around until it’s done.”

He nods, his gaze steady and calm. “We’ve got time, then. Time to plan, adjust. And with Branson and the others helping manage it…” he trails off, giving me a reassuring look. “It’ll hold.”

I nod, feeling the tension ease just a little. “Thank you,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

I can feel a storm of nerves building under the surface—a mess of thoughts and questions about last night, about the way Dash and I were close enough to… well, to have changed things, maybe.

Once I’ve given him the rundown, I make my way toward Mara. I don’t even have to say anything; she glances up, catches whatever look is written all over my face, and raises an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. You look like you’re about to combust,” she says, her voice dry but curious.

I grab her arm, pulling her toward a quieter corner of camp. Once we’re out of earshot, I let out a breath, trying to find the words. “Okay, so… last night,” I start, feeling my face heat up. “Dash and I… we were this close, Mara. Like, close enough that I thought he was going to—well, you know.”

Mara’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across her face. She “ooo”s at me. “I didn’t know you guys were already there. You never even told me you guys were doing anything other than holding hands.”

“What?” I ask, then dawning hits. “Oh! No, sorry. More wholesome direction than where your mind went.” I can’t help but laugh. “He almost kissed me.”

She rolls her eyes, but regroups. “You said almost…so he didn’t?” she whispers, practically buzzing with excitement.

I shake my head, frustrated and flustered. “I totally did that stupid look at his lips move and nothing. He just… stopped. We were so close, and then he just… held my hand.”

She bites her lip, trying to hold back a laugh. “Okay, wait, so he was going for it, right? You’re sure?”

“Oh, he was. I mean, the look in his eyes… Mara, I thought something was going to happen.” I run a hand through my hair, exasperated. “But then he just pulled back, like he decided against it at the last second. And now I have no idea what to think.”

Mara chuckles, crossing her arms as she studies me. “Honestly, sounds like he’s got it bad. But maybe he’s waiting for a sign from you. Or, you know, he could be trying to be a gentleman about it.” She rolls her eyes a little, and I can’t help but laugh.

I chew on my lip, the frustration settling in all over again. “It just… I don’t know, it threw me. Now I’m overanalyzing everything—like, was he holding back because he doesn’t want this? Or was he holding back because he thinks I don’t want it?”

Mara’s face softens, her usual sass giving way to something gentler. “Or maybe he’s just waiting to make sure you’re both ready,” she says. “That man’s got the patience of a saint if he’s anything like he seems.”

I let out a sigh, feeling my shoulders relax a little. “I mean, it’s probably for the best… With everything going on, the Accord and camp…” But even as I say it, I know it’s only half true.

“Hey,” Mara nudges my shoulder, her grin returning. “He’ll get there. And when he does, it’ll be worth the wait.”

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks, Mara. I needed this.”

“Anytime,” she says, giving me a wink. “But when he finally does kiss you, I want all the details.”

I chew on my lip, the frustration settling in all over again. “I mean, I know it’s silly,” I admit, waving a hand as if to brush the thought away. “With everything going on—the Accord breathing down our necks, the camp just barely holding it together—it feels almost ridiculous to even think about… this.” I pause, trying to shake the warmth creeping over my cheeks. “It’s just a kiss, right?”

Mara raises an eyebrow, her expression softening. “Sage, listen to me,” she says, her tone gentler. “We’re all doing our best to survive right now. But that doesn’t mean we have to stop living.” She reaches out, giving my arm a squeeze. “If you don’t let yourself feel something good once in a while, what’s the point? A kiss, a connection—that’s part of what keeps us human.”

I exhale, her words settling over me. She’s right. There’s a part of me that’s been so focused on keeping it all together, making sure everyone is safe, that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to let myself be… just me. “You’re right,” I whisper, feeling the weight ease a little. “Maybe I do need to let myself live, not just survive.”