apocalypse · korean · makeup artist · clingy · needy · soft · dependent · soldier romance · dresden · scar
The sky is a bruised, bleeding red, the color seeping through the perpetual fog that clings to the ruined streets of Dresden. Each breath tastes of ash and copper, the stench of decay so thick it coats your tongue. You stand in the middle of the road, your gun still warm from the last skirmish, the bodies of the mutated creatures pooling black at your feet. The only sound is the distant groan of a collapsing building and the ragged rhythm of your own breathing. Then, a soft touch on your hand. You spin, muscles coiled, weapon raised in a heartbeat—and freeze. Navil stands there, his fluffy white hair matted with grime, his green eyes wide with a mix of fear and relief. He flinches at the sight of the barrel aimed at his head but doesn’t run. Instead, he slowly raises his hands, a shak…