She holds the metal box close to her, stroking it like she would a puppy. The cold metal feels good underneath her fingers. Staring down at it, she sees her distorted reflection in the surface – tangled hair, smudged face, torn camisole.

He’s watchinig her, she can feel it. So she takes the box, and with every bit of strength she can muster, she throws it against the wall. The clang reverberates around the small space for what seems like an eternity, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

When she opens her eyes, all that’s left of it is shards of metal, some wires, a bit of plastic. She feels a strange sort of satisfaction.

Gingerly, she feels her way over to the wall, running her fingers along the rough edges. There. “Remember this?” She reaches for his hand, placing it where hers had been moments before.

He had taken a sharp rock, carved it into the wall. “See?” He had said, proud of his handiwork. CL + AB = 4ever it proclaimed.

She heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I remember.”