[In which Chuck is a goddamn fool. Apologies.]
Chuck was sliding down the wall as Blair approached him, his wobbling like gelatin beneath him. It was sheer force of will (and the vague notion that Blair was there) that he managed not to throw up all over the once-pristine kitchen floor. Blair's voice sounded far away, even as she approached him, and he turned toward her blearily. Things came into sharper focus when she took her face in her hands, and he instinctively leaned into her touch.
It's okay. He took a deep, shuddering breath, casting a brief glance at the zombie and immediately looking away, blinking furiously to clear the tears from his vision. Men didn't cry, even under these circumstances. She was telling him it was okay, that it was over, but the knot in his stomach told him otherwise. They'd seen more of those things, at least two more. Who knew how many more there were?
But even so, Blair was right - the immediate threat was gone, and after the intense wave of terror that had shot through his body, that realization filled him with sudden, strong wave of euphoria so intense he could barely handle it.
"I... I..." he rasped, barely able to catch his breath. "Blair..."
Her skin was warm against his cheeks, her breath sweet and soft against his face. She was safe, alive. Blair...
He didn't think. He just pressed his his lips against hers and pulled her close. They were still alive. He needed someone to be close to.