I decided not to go back to bed.
The moment I stepped back inside the bunker, the noise from the sleeping quarters echoed down the hallway. Laughter bounced off the metal walls. Voices overlapped in excited conversations. Someone even let out a loud cheer.
I sighed quietly.
Those five men had turned the bunk room into some kind of late-night gathering.
Everyone was still crowded around them, asking questions, laughing, trying to hear stories from the outside world.
And I had absolutely no interest in squeezing my way back into that chaos.
I'll go back later, I told myself.
Late night was the only time the bunker ever truly became quiet. Once everyone finally fell asleep, the place transformed into something peaceful—just the faint hum of electricity and the distant shifting of air through the ventilation system.
For now, though, the excitement was still alive.
So instead of heading toward the bunk room, I turned down another hallway, moving deeper into the bunker.
The underground corridors were familiar to me. I'd walked them thousands of times over the last five years. The walls were reinforced concrete, worn in places from constant use. Dim overhead lights buzzed softly as I passed beneath them.
Eventually I reached a heavy metal door.
The training bunker.
I pushed it open.
The soft hum of the lights greeted me as I stepped inside.
This room had once been a storage space before the apocalypse, but over the years we had turned it into something more useful. Thick mats covered most of the floor. Punching bags hung from metal beams in the ceiling. Wooden crates filled one corner, holding spare weapons, training knives, and old equipment.
Usually it was empty at night.
But tonight, music floated through the room.
And someone was dancing.
I leaned casually against the doorway, already smiling as soon as I recognized her.
"Mira."
She spun mid-step, her long dark hair whipping around as she turned toward me.
Her face lit up instantly.
"Gemini!"
She jogged toward me, breathing a little heavily from dancing, but still smiling.
Mira was twenty-three—two years younger than me—and full of energy. Before the apocalypse, she had been a dancer.
Well.
More specifically, she had been a stripper.
It had never bothered me. Mira had always spoken about it without shame. It had been her job. Simple as that.
And even now, five years into the apocalypse, the way she moved still carried that same natural grace.
"You hiding too?" she asked, grinning.
I pushed myself off the doorway and stepped further into the room.
"Is it that obvious?"
She laughed.
"The whole bunker is obsessed with the new arrivals."
I groaned quietly.
"I noticed."
"Everyone's talking about them."
"Exactly why I left."
Mira gave me a knowing look.
"You hate attention."
I shrugged.
"Not that kind."
She walked back toward the middle of the room where a small speaker sat on top of one of the crates.
"I've been practicing," she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Practicing what?"
She looked over her shoulder at me.
"Dancing."
I crossed my arms, leaning slightly against the wall.
"You were already good at it."
Mira smirked.
"Come dance with me."
I shook my head immediately.
"No."
"Yes."
"Mira—"
"Come on," she insisted, already scrolling through her phone.
"You know how to move."
I sighed.
The truth was, I did know how to move. I had always been comfortable in my own body. Even before the world fell apart, dancing had never made me feel awkward.
Still, that wasn't why I had come here tonight.
But then again...
The room was empty.
No crowd.
No strangers watching.
Just Mira and me.
She suddenly held up her phone.
"I found the perfect song."
I already knew that tone in her voice.
"What song?"
She tapped the screen.
Music filled the room.
The smooth, sensual beat of Company by Tinashe echoed softly through the bunker.
I rolled my eyes.
"Of course you picked that."
Mira grinned.
"Now dance."
I shook my head again—but this time I stepped forward anyway.
The music wrapped around us as Mira started moving.
Her dancing was effortless. Her hips swayed naturally with the rhythm, her arms moving fluidly through the air like the music lived inside her body.
I let the rhythm guide me.
At first slowly.
Then more confidently.
My hips swayed to the beat as I moved across the mats, my body loosening as the tension from the day slowly melted away.
Dancing had always felt freeing.
In a world filled with death, infected monsters, and constant survival... moments like this were rare.
Moments where my body moved for something other than fighting.
Mira spun once, laughing softly.
"See?" she said. "You're good."
I smirked.
"I know."
My movements became more fluid.
More natural.
The music filled the room as my body followed the rhythm, my long curls sliding across my shoulders as I moved.
For a moment, I forgot about the bunker.
Forgot about the apocalypse.
Forgot about the infected.
Then suddenly—
I felt it.
A strange sensation crawled up the back of my neck.
Like someone was watching.
My movements slowed.
I turned.
My eyes landed on the doorway.
And my breath caught.
Two figures stood there.
Dave.
And beside him—
Xavier.
Both of them had clearly been standing there for a moment.
Mira noticed them too.
Her dancing stopped instantly.
The music played for a few seconds longer before she hurried to pause it.
Silence filled the room.
Dave leaned casually against the doorway, a grin spreading across his face.
"Well," he chuckled. "Looks like we interrupted something."
I crossed my arms lightly over my stomach, suddenly aware that I was only wearing a crop top and sweatpants.
"We were just dancing," Mira said quickly.
Dave laughed.
"I could see that."
My eyes shifted toward Xavier.
And I instantly wished they hadn't.
Because he was staring at me.
Not casually.
Not politely.
His dark eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my pulse jump unexpectedly.
Dave was smiling.
Xavier wasn't.
He simply watched me.
Carefully.
Like he was studying me.
The same way he had looked at me earlier in the bunker.
Mira cleared her throat.
"Hi, Dave."
I nodded politely.
"Dave."
He pushed himself off the doorway.
"Evening, ladies."
I gestured vaguely toward the hallway.
"I came here because the bunk room was too loud."
Dave snorted.
"Yeah," he said. "The newcomers are making quite an impression."
I glanced briefly toward Xavier again.
He still hadn't spoken.
He stood beside Dave, tall and silent, his tattooed arms relaxed at his sides.
But his eyes remained on me.
Unmoving.
It was strangely intense.
Like he was trying to figure something out without asking a single question.
I felt warmth slowly spread through my chest.
It wasn't embarrassment.
It wasn't fear.
It was something far more confusing.
An awareness.
Of him.
Of his presence.
Of the space between us.
Dave seemed to notice the silence.
His gaze moved between Xavier and me with obvious amusement.
"Well," he said lightly, "we'll let you two get back to dancing."
Mira laughed awkwardly.
"Actually we were just finishing."
I nodded.
"Yeah."
But neither of us moved.
And neither did Xavier.
The silence stretched.
My dark brown eyes met his again.
And for a moment—
Neither of us looked away.
Something lingered in the air between us.
Not hostile.
Not friendly either.
Just... something.
I couldn't explain it.
I didn't know why this man—this stranger who had only arrived hours ago—made me suddenly so aware of myself.
Finally Dave clapped Xavier on the shoulder.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go."
Xavier blinked slightly, as if pulled from his thoughts.
He nodded.
But as he turned to leave...
His eyes flicked back to me one last time.
That same intense look.
Then he followed Dave into the hallway.
The door closed behind them.
Mira immediately spun toward me.
Her eyes were wide.
"Oh my God."
I blinked.
"What?"
She pointed dramatically at the door.
"That man was staring at you."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a water bottle from one of the crates.
"You're imagining things."
Mira laughed.
"No. No I'm not."
I took a long drink, trying to ignore the strange warmth still sitting in my chest.
Because for some reason...
The way Xavier had looked at me—
Felt far more intense than it should have.