𝙵𝙻𝙴𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 𐂃

- Cristine -

Sleep didn't come easy. Laying on her side, arm curled around her flat stomach while the other was propped underneath her pillow, Cristine stared at her door. The occasional flicker of light near her window dancing from the lights of the few patrol guards passing. The tight feeling inside her chest left her breath heavy and stuffy, which was weird as she meticulously cleaned her cabin to keep her mind from straying to thoughts she rather not entertain. With those omnious thoughts Cristine remembered the surprising conversation she had with Troy right before he left.

Her confession.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Liking someone shouldn't be this. Not this twisted, complicated, and wrong. Roiled in darkness leaving Cristine searching for oxygen while also feeling liberated when she didn't have to worry about being judged.

Maybe it was because she never needed to pretend with Troy. Not even at the very start. Maybe she confused liking Troy with feelings of justification and comfort for the things she'd done. She felt empowered and at ease at the way he shrugged her actions off when others silently judged. Cristine never doubted Troy's support when it was time to choose survival over morality. Hell, the two of them bonded more during violent moments than peaceful ones and that frightened her. Troy made it alright for her to accept the violence and admit it was part of her. The violence kept their families alive and the Ranch safe. But Cristine felt like a hypocrite deep down. Troy had killed their own and it dawned that she wasn't different from her father. Just more the same. She still kept all their dark secrets hidden, with good reason, whined about it, but still returned to the ones that would be prepared to do what was necessary. The things she did and would without a doubt keep doing, Troy understood it... he even respected her for it, unlike her father.

He understood her.

That's why she still cared about his fate. When it counted the most, despite all Troy did and had done, when it came to surviving, Cristine wanted- needed him at her side. She confessed because she was irritated with how easily Troy spoke about sacrificing his life. As if that was the noble end goal and nothing else mattered but his mission. Cristine didn't know why hearing Troy talk so carelessly made her intensely feel that particular way, but it did. Kissing the inside of her teeth and unable to tamper her nerves, Cristine sat upright in her bed. It shifted from her weight and she planted her feet on the wooden floor, curling her toes. Her curls brushed past her shoulders and a hand combed the messy locks to one side before palming her exposed nape. Her body was active for almost two days, but there was still so much energy she wanted to release. She wasn't going to fall asleep. Twisting her neck back and forth and side to side to deal with the nick, Cristine slid her hand under her pillow and grabbed her knife. The leather was falling apart. A faint smile graced her face, but it withered quickly. A deep sigh escaped her mouth

-

"Can't sleep?" Cristine tensed and looked over her shoulder. Her face automatically fell into a relaxed and controlled state. Her emotions were hard to detect, but her eyes narrowed when Madison stepped next to her at the gate. The older woman glanced at the rifle Cristine's held whilst guarding the gate. "Neither can I." Madison looked back at the dark one way road leading to the Ranch.

"Alicia and Hailey kicked me out of my infirmary to get some rest. I'm not allowed back in until it's dawn." Cristine licked her lower lip. "It's a wonder anyone can rest with all that's going on."

"It's a good plan Cristine..." Madison half surprised her with the comment and Cristine rubbed the cold steel with her fingertips. "Only thing we can do now is wait for them to return."

"Yeah." Cristine agreed with a distracted nod and did a chewing motion with her mouth, thinking and wondering. "But in my experience plans usually also get messed up and the situation turns for the worst."