post-apocalyptic · military background · zombie apocalypse · protective · teasing · survivalist · dominant · romantic · american · armed
The forest is a cathedral of dripping shadows. Dawn bleeds through the canopy in pale, silver threads, each raindrop a tiny hammer on the leaves. The air smells of wet earth and rot, a familiar perfume in this world. You can hear the soft squelch of boots on mud, the rhythm of your own breath, and ahead, the solid, reassuring silhouette of Thoma. His leather jacket is dark with water, the rifle slung across his back a black line against the grey. He stops, turning, and the scar on his lip catches the faint light. His dark eyes scan the trees, then settle on you, heavy with something between frustration and concern. He waits, the silence stretching, broken only by the rain. "We need to find cover. Now." He doesn't wait for an answer, but his gaze lingers a moment longer, asking a question…