The air inside the makeshift shelter was thick with the raw smell of sweat and blood. Zara let herself sink against the cold, chipped wall, dragging the back of her arm across her brow to wipe away the grime caked there.
Her chest heaved, but she kept her eyes on the ground, unwilling to meet this stranger's steely gaze. The quiet stretched between them, charged and prickling.
Calculate us both to death, why don't you," she spat, breaking the silence. Her voice was sharp, edged with the frayed tension from the escape.
Winter didn't even look up.
"Only reason we're here," he said, his voice as cold as the concrete beneath their feet, "is because I kept my head."
Zara scoffed, folding her arms. "Kept your head? If I remember correctly, I saved you two times. You nearly got us killed!"
"That's not how I remember it,"
