Page 36 of Zinnia and the Zombie
“Which means there might be more resources we can use.”
He nodded, eyes still scanning the horizon. “Exactly.”
They sat in companionable silence as darkness fell completely, watching the city’s ghost lights twinkle like earthbound stars. The air cooled slightly, and she moved closer to him, seeking his warmth. He automatically wrapped an arm around her shoulders automatically, drawing her against his side.
“You know,” she said after a while, her voice soft in the darkness, “when I was a kid, I used to dream about adventures. Discovering lost cities, exploring uncharted territories.” She laughed quietly. “I never imagined anything like this.”
“I spent my youth in military academies,” he replied, memories surfacing of strict routines and endless drills. “Adventure wasn’tencouraged. Discipline and duty were the watchwords of my education.”
“And now look at us,” she murmured. “A soldier and a florist setting up house in an abandoned alien city.”
“An unlikely pairing,” he agreed.
“But it works.” She turned to face him, her features softly illuminated by the distant lights of the dead city. “We work.”
She was right. They did work together, their strengths complementing each other in ways he wouldn’t have predicted. Her adaptability balanced his rigidity; his protective instincts complemented her nurturing nature.
“We should rest,” he said, conscious of how the day’s activities had taxed them both. “Tomorrow we can begin mapping the immediate area, establishing a perimeter.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, making no move to get up. “Or we could stay here a little longer. The night’s beautiful.”
He followed her gaze upward. The stars were unfamiliar to him—this world existed in a section of the galaxy he had never navigated—but the vastness of space remained the same. Somewhere among those distant lights, the answers to his questions waited. The fate of his people. The purpose of his survival.
“We can stay,” he conceded, settling more comfortably.
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Good. Because I’m not ready for this day to end yet.”
They sat together as the night deepened around them, the alien city spread below like a dark garden blooming with scatteredlights. Plans for tomorrow could wait. Security assessments and resource allocation could wait. For now, this moment of quiet companionship was enough.
When Zinnia finally stirred beside him, he thought she would suggest they go inside. Instead, she turned to face him, her expression softened by darkness but unmistakably determined.
“All that planning for tomorrow,” she said, her voice a low murmur that sent a ripple of anticipation through him. “The mapping, the exploration—it’s important. But there’s only one future I’m interested in right now.” She rose to her feet, holding out her hand to him. “Take me to bed, Jaxx.”
He stood, taking her offered hand, feeling the delicate bones beneath her soft skin.
“With pleasure,” he replied, and lifted her into his arms.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Warmth radiated from Jaxx’s body as Zinnia drifted awake. She didn’t open her eyes immediately, savoring the feeling of his arm draped protectively around her waist, the steady rhythm of his breathing against her back. Morning light filtered through the vines covering their windows, bathing the room in a gentle emerald glow.
Three weeks. They’d been here three weeks now, though it felt simultaneously shorter and longer. Time moved differently in this abandoned city—no schedules to keep, no customers waiting, just the two of them carving out a life amid the ruins.
She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. He was typically up before her, his warrior’s instincts rousing him at the first hint of dawn, but occasionally she caught these rare, peaceful moments when he slept deeply beside her. His face softened in sleep, the vigilant set of his jaw relaxed, making him look younger.
Their apartment had transformed in the weeks since they’d claimed it. He’d restored full power to all of the rooms, rigged a system to pump water into the holding tank once they’d drained the initial storage. and reinforced the doors and windowsagainst any potential threats. He’d mapped the building and surrounding blocks in every direction, establishing what he called “defensible perimeters” with the seriousness of a military commander.
Meanwhile, she had turned her attention to making their shelter into a home. She’d found furnishings in other apartments—soft blankets, cooking implements, even artwork to brighten the walls. The rooftop garden provided them with abundant food, and she’d begun cataloging the various plants, experimenting with different preparations.
It was oddly domestic, considering the circumstances. Sometimes she caught herself forgetting they were stranded on an alien planet, survivors of a crash, possibly the only sentient beings on this world.
He stirred beside her, his arm tightening almost imperceptibly around her waist. She turned in his embrace, studying his face as consciousness returned. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing those extraordinary amethyst eyes that still made her breath catch.
“Good morning,” she whispered, tracing a finger along the lamellae stretching from his temple to his jawline.
He captured her hand, pressing her palm against his cheek. “You’re watching me sleep again.”
“Only for a minute.” She smiled. “I like seeing you relaxed.”
