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"Twenty-six," she repeated, "Very good," she suppressed a chuckle though the evidence of it was written on her face, her toothy grin. She listened as he talked about his years in service. It was unexpected for her, though she knew she should have guessed that a lot of the survivors would be soldiers. It was logical. She watched him as he rested his head on the couch. He made it look so calm, such a welcome feeling. Still sideways on the couch facing him, she relaxed into it like she was laying on her side. She tried to close her eyes more than once, but strangely kept opening them to check and see if he was still there. Anca sighed, almost wishing her dreams would consume her but knew they would not. Sleep was not so easy these days.

Anca smiled making a bet with herself that this bit of clumsiness was probably some clever ploy. Not that she cared. "What about me?" she asked what he was referring to. "And you can always go to your bed if you are getting too tired," she said, " 'And you can lock the door in case you still don't trust me,' " she mimicked his words from earlier with a crooked grin. She willed herself not to yawn, but could feel herself wearing thin. She also noticed the cold of the room, but was determined to overcome that as well. She'd had to do it before, Beach weather, Beach weather, Beach weather, she told herself. It worked once, it would work again

Anca draped her arms back over the couch, one over the armrest the other over the back, and she looked at Taylor, some question in her eyes. She let him hang for a few seconds and then finally she said, "Not quite..." she paused for yet another moment, "Nineteen." There were still traces of amusement on her face, her eyes still wide in the darkness. She tried not to notice him rubbing circulation through his arms to keep warm. But she did. Anca began moving and then stopped as she looked over at him, no smile on her face now. She began moving again, crawling toward him on the couch, and when she spoke, her voice was a whisper, "Don't freak out, alright?" she paused and smiled a bit, less than before but nonetheless a smirk, "Survival purposes," she explained as she positioned her body next to his, carefully resting into the nook of his collarbone, so gently as though he might break. She wasn't looking at him now, but instead toward the desk he'd been working at earlier, "There, 'at's better..." This last bit of words was quiet and not even so much meant for him.

After another moment or two, Anca's shoulders relaxed slightly as she inhaled. Her eyes closed and she could tell, either she would be able fall asleep easily, or not at all. She pulled the sleeve of her shirt over her fingers so that her hand was not exposed to the chill in the air, and rested it near her chin on his collar. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and she had to admit, it was nice. Anca couldn't recall the last time she'd been so close to an actual, living person. At all. Well, since after the plague. If there was one thing she was previously guilty of, was the fact that she had been quite the party girl. Not that there were strange men coming home with her every night, but there had been courtships, not that any of them lasted very long, but in particular were the clubs themselves. You couldn't help but being obnoxiously close to well, everyone, in the clubs. Those days were over, and Taylor was very much alive. All the reminiscing had put her dangerously close to the sleep-zone, but she willed herself not to fall asleep yet. Not that she didn't trust him, but this was still sailing on new waters. People were different now. She had no doubt his intentions weren't harmful to her in any way, but it would be the one time she let her guard down that she would get thrown into a position between a brick wall and a hard spot.

(A time lapse, perhaps?)

Before long, Anca could tell that Taylor was sleeping. His breathing was deep and his grip on her had changed. It comforted her to know that he was in fact sleeping. Now she felt alright to do the same, so she closed her eyes, and before long, she too was sleeping. It had been a long time since she'd actually been able to rest...

Her mind clouded with images of her twin and her parents. First they were waving her away, urging her to get on the plane, Radu coming up and literally shoving her, not hard but enough to make her move, making her board the plane as she reached out for their hands and the security guard grabbed her, pulling her through the terminal. Though she had no sound in this dream, she could see her face screaming and crying as the bulky security guard held off her fighting and escorted her to the aircraft. The agonizing plane ride to North America, how she'd cried in bouts. Then she saw her family urging her back to them, and she ran like hell to get to them. Though something was wrong. The closer she got, the more she realized her family wasn't motioning her to come, they were grabbing at her. Their hands were filthy, as was everything else. She looked into Radu's face, her Radu, and saw that there were spots of decay across his cheek and jaw, his mouth was greedy and yearning, his eyes were terribly opaque as opposed to their normally blackish state.

And then it was over. The rest of her dream turned black yet still held the ominous vibe. She could feel a warmth on her back, the sun? It was no longer even early. It was nearly 10 o'clock in the morning. She was still in the dreamlike state that you get just before you wake. Anca began stirring awake, slowly, finding that her face was buried against Taylor's neck, her arm thrown across his torso as though she were holding onto him. Her body was more strewn atop him instead of next to him, one of her legs stretched over his. She blinked a few times, her eyelashes brushing Taylor's neck, and then she realized it was morning. Oh God, I hope I didn't choke him out sometime in the night! she thought as she quietly pulled her face back a little ways to see if he was awake, and breathing. His eyes were still closed, but she watched as his chest rose and fell several times. Anca removed her arm from around him, feeling that it was quite numb, she held it against her body with the other and let the circulation return to it. She took these few moments to look around, noticing her leg was still across him, she quickly pulled it back and curled it under her so she was sitting on it. After a few moments she rubbed her eyes and looked around the apartment as if checking to make sure everything was as it was the night before, but also seeing it for the first time in the light.

(Sorry, this one was pretty long lol)

Anca jumped from the couch, facing the door and stepped backward for a few seconds, before she understood what was going on at which time she grabbed the machete from her thigh sheath and proceeded to step toward the door now. She licked her lips once as she put her eye to the peephole on the apartment door. Her whole expression changed and she was no longer the terrified girl she'd been the night before. Now she fearlessly, and possibly irrationally, reached the the locks, prepared to kill the walker that tormented the other side of the door, her machete held about eye level...

Anca let the arm holding the machete fall idly to her side and stuck a hip out as she looked at him sideways, befuddled, refusing to move, or maybe she couldn't. "Does he deliver your mail?" she said, with a serious manner of voice. She turned now to him, flipping a bit of hair over her shoulder, the machete arm still draped behind her now as her hip remained outward.

Anca returned the machete to her thigh, placing it inside it's sheath. She smirked slightly as he stuck his head out the window, "That's what Channel 6 does to determine the weather. And every other weather broadcast..." For a moment she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, tall and thin just looking around as if for any of her things she might have removed, but she knew she didn't. "Well, don't worry, I'll be out of your hair in no time," she said as she stretched her arms high above her head, standing on her tiptoes. Anca walked over to the window where Taylor stood, and she too looked out, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin.