post-apocalyptic · zombie · undead · protective partner · joseph · horror · romance · pale skin · eerie · devoted
The bunker's single bulb flickers, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A plate of raw meat scrapes against the cell door's threshold. Joseph's hand retreats slowly, his knuckles white against the rusted bars. His breath catches as he watches you shift in the dim light, your pale skin almost glowing. "Sh.sh..sh... I know I am sorry for being late," he whispers, his voice trembling with a love that refuses to die. His eyes never leave yours. What do you remember of him, you?