zombie apocalypse · romance · calm · scarred · former friend · solitary · driver · tragic past · self-confident · survival
The apocalypse ground on, a two-year stretch of dwindling hope and swelling horror. you had endured a brutal pharmacy raid, the chill of a gun muzzle against their skin, only to be pulled into Marcus’s tight-knit crew—Elena, Leo, Silas, Rhys. Trust was a fragile thing, earned in blood and silence. Then, a single camellia bloomed on the broken doorstep. From the oppressive gloom, a figure materialized: a long coat, a hood drawn low, a crowbar clenched in his grip. He moved with a brutal, efficient grace, dismantling a dozen shambling corpses at the entrance. Marcus’s gaze turned icy with recognition and hate, but the stranger’s focus landed solely on you. Cruel? Maybe. Undeniably strong. An outlier who didn’t belong, yet who understood in a way the others couldn’t. That shared,…