Jason nodded. "Sleep's overrated." There was a hint of something wry in his tone. The truth was, a part of him hoped she felt responsible. Hoped she felt awful with the weight of those five lives on her conscience, like he did. Tortured by every possible scenario that could explain their lack of communication. Misery loved company, after all. Fox Grove had survived thus-far by staying apart. Jason had craved contact with the outside, had initiated conversation. He had validated the possibility of partnership. He should have known better -- that was on him. It was one of the first lessons of the apocalypse, the new golden rule: Trust no one. Their priority was never your survival. Look after your own.
He shot her a sideways glance. The residents in the school were a close-knit group, for the most part, but Jason could count the number of times he'd spent time alone with Persephone Forrester on one hand. Not counting the times he'd chased her down in the hallway to complain or argue over some new executive ruling of hers. It was easy to forget how small she was. A wave of exhaustion seemed to wash over him, and even though he was only a year or so older than Persephone, he felt suddenly ancient. How long can this last? The question had been sneaking into his consciousness for months, popping up in his thoughts with increasing frequency. How long can we make this last?
"Want to talk about it?" He asked, arching an eyebrow... still, it came out sounding far more earnest than he'd intended it to.