Maizie's nodded at his confession, feeling her stomach tighten as the knowledge settled in. His addendum drew a second nod. It made sense that he was dangerous -- he was alive out there, after all -- but like everything there were levels. Aunt Day was dangerous, in the right circumstances, and Dad had been too. And the Hellhounds were, and the Capitol patrols. Hell, they lived in dangerous times.
"Just dumb kid stuff," she said in reply, watching as he messed with his hands. "I was thinking about how trusting anyone is a risk anymore, but I don't wanna just give up on people all together. And how maybe sometimes things might work out."
The wistfulness in her voice is strong enough that even Maizie could hear it and she sat back up real quick, embarrassed. She didn't know this guy, obviously, but from the looks of things, their experiences in the zombie aftermath couldn't be more different. Here she was, sitting safe inside and talking about hope. God, he probably thought she was such an idiot.
Tucking her hair behind her ears to keep it out of the way, Maizie leaned into the open window again. "It's a good thing, I think. You reminded me of my dad, just for a second, when you first looked at me. He, um, he was killed this week, though, so everything reminds me of him right now."
It felt weird to talk about Dad with a stranger. Like that made it more real somehow. "What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly. "You said 'I know' when I said everything sucks. Is it just apocalypse stuff? Or something specific?"