Sneakered feet hit the ground with a soft thud. The shuffling of (hopefully) small animals and the creeks of settling concrete and plaster echo throughout the mall.

Having determined it safe enough, Charlie looks back up to the broken window, and meets soft eyes. 

Another pair of sneakers meets waterlogged tile, another soft thud. Wordlessly they start their usual run routine. Charlie with her Bat, and Dot with her small axe that definitely has a word for that but Dot couldnt be bothered to remember what it is. Small axe suits it just fine. 

“Stay close, the perimeter might have been safe but this place could be crawling with Dead.” Dot nods in response, before gazing off.

“It’s actually pretty beautiful, in a weird apocalyptic way, huh?” Dot muses, admiring the broken fountain, long drained but full of life in Dot’s eyes. A rolly polly makes its way through one of the cracks and disappears under the excess moss. 

“I guess so, I mean I can see why you’d see it that way. Always the optimist.” 

The two fall into their survival-bred focus. Dot fills the air with a soft hum, and the two relax in each other's company as much as one could while on high alert. The occasional wack or dull thunk of weapon meeting rotting flesh would scare the birds from their nests in the nooks of the building. 

They try to ignore the not-so-distant explosions, but even after weeks of the sound they both flinch at each vibrating boom. It's so, so much louder, so much closer, than it was yesterday. 

“I uh, I don’t think we’re gonna have to worry about those supplies after all, Char.” Dot says, with an indistinguishable tone that Charlie narrows down to either acceptance or numb horror. 

They both knew what was coming, but neither had spoken it out loud, made it real. There was an unspoken “this is it” in the eye contact that neither broke. 

Dot’s eyes dulled and her jaw tenses as the severity hits her, but she still smiles, and holds a hand to Charlie’s cheek so gentle and warm that in that moment Charlie swears she’ll protect her. Even though she knows she can’t. Even though she knows she’s out of time to say the hundreds of words she wishes she could.

They end their wordless conversation as a semi intact display catches Charlie's eye with the shift of the light.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

Dot’s eyebrows furrow in a confused but pleased grin. “...what?”

“This would have been our senior year, and it's spring right? I always said I'd take you to prom.” Charlie points to the display, which Dot can now see used to show off elaborate formal dresses. 

They rush over to see there’s still plenty of supply, some bloodied and most wrinkled or torn, sure, but still there! 

If someone were to watch or hear the following play out, if they were able to remove the ruin and decay, it’d almost look like a normal teenage experience. One could almost relate it to a cliche movie montage as they laugh and try various dresses and accessories with dramatic poses. No need to overcomplicate something so simple and human with thoughts like impending death, so they don’t. 

“May I have this dance madam?” Charlie’s hand extends from a blazer that lays too short for her arms and sits awkwardly on her shoulders.

Dot’s features scrunch into a giddy grin as she looks up from the boxes she was half heartedly searching. She puts her hand on her chest, dramatically. “Oh how scandalous Ms. Charlotte! Well, I suppose one dance wouldn’t hurt” She curtsies in the excessive gown, t-shirt and jeans peeking underneath on her shoulders and ankles. A somehow perfectly soft hand takes Charlie’s calloused own. 

A hand lays softly on Dot’s shoulder and waist, and she mirrors the placement. “We don’t have any music” she whispers, suddenly aware that she can feel Charlie's breath on her cheeks. Both swear the other must be able to hear their heart with how loudly it's beating.

Another explosion shakes the building, shaking dust and plaster from the ceiling. They flinch harshly in each other's arms, and each grip tighter to their dance partner. Dot moves her hand back to Charlie’s cheek, and pulls her head to her lips, kissing her cheek firmly. A reassurance, a promise, and an apology all in one. 

“Dot, sing that one song, the one from Hello Dolly that they play in Wall-E?” 

Dot chuckles softly, mournfully, and sniffs back her emotions that threaten to spill. It seems oddly fitting doesn't it? “Hah, sure Charlie. Sure.” 

“Put on your Sunday clothes there's lots of world out there-”

As dot sings Charlie starts to sway, and for a bit, they simply dance. Charlie leads, uncoordinated and goofy, but it makes Dot laugh and her singing gets more enthusiastic and giggly as Charlie joins in.

“And we won't come home until we've kissed a girl.” 

When the song ends, the two dissolve into giggles. Dot continues to hum the tune anyway, afraid to hear her own thoughts and ruin the moment. They readjust their form closer to a hug than a dance position and slowly sway together. 

Dot rests her head on Charlie's shoulder and they each hold the other's waist as if that will solve any problem. Any fear.

The explosions are big enough now that the sound makes Dot’s ears ring, and there's a consistent flow of rubble and dust from the ceiling. 

“Thank you,” Charlie whispers, holding Dot in an embrace  tight with desperation and longing.

Dot doesn't remember responding, but she must've, because Charlie continues. It’s more of a breath than a whisper, “and Goodbye.” 

Charlie leans in and Dot closes the gap between their lips as the walls crumble. 

The kiss is a confesion, a first date, their first “I love you”, and every other step that they wouldn’t be able to live out.

Another explosion knocks them to the ground. The worst yet to come, they stay in each other's arms and hold on tightly. Lips and hands interlock with ferocity of having run out of time, and somewhat peaceful excitement in finally having kissed her.

Dot pulls away by a millimeter to breathe out what feels like an apology. I’m sorry we can’t have this. I’m sorry we don't have time. I’m sorry on behalf of the world. I’ll always love you. I always have.

Words go unspoken. Dot brushes a bit of the dust off Charlie’s shoulders, and smiles despite tears streaking down her cheek, wiping Charlie’s own.

“Goodbye my love.”