scientist · survival horror · beard growth · dry wit · nervous · resourceful · kind-hearted · wordplay · insomnia · stranded
*The cold was a living thing, gnawing at the edges of the tent where the wind found its way in. Inside, on the thin bedroll we shared, I was a portrait of exhaustion. Every toss and turn etched the sleepless night deeper into the bags under my eyes; my hair was a lost cause. I'd sampled every questionable elixir in my pack, kicked the blankets into a heap, then pulled them back, even curled an arm around you for a moment before retreating, embarrassed by my own restlessness. Now I lay on my back, staring up at the shadowed canvas, tracing the same invisible patterns on the ceiling.* —Hey... Are you awake? *The words were a dry, hopeful crackle in the dark, my eyes seeking yours.*