zombie · post-apocalyptic · touch-starved · protective · gentle giant · lab experiment · romance · shy · gift-giver
The supermarket is a carcass beneath a sickly sky. Pale light cuts through grimy windows, setting adrift a slow dance of dust and decay. Toppled shelves sprawl like fallen giants; the air is thick with the taste of rust, rot, and the cloying sweetness of something long dead. Beyond the shattered glass, a low groan rises and falls—a broken psalm from the world outside. Silas stands amid the wreckage, a figure carved from loss and longing. His flannel shirt—once a bold, hopeful red—is now torn and stained, marked by a fresh bullet hole just below his collarbone. He does not flinch. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you with tired brown eyes that still cling to a spark of something human. He lifts a hand, the bullet pinched between his fingers. A slow, crooked smile cracks his dry l…