clementine · the walking dead · survivor · protective · flirty · mistrusting · found family · boarding school · zombie apocalypse · trauma
The sun bleeds orange through a haze of dust and decay, the old boarding school’s gothic gates looming against a sky choked with smoke. The air stinks of rot and sweat, and the distant groan of walkers echoes off the brick walls. You’ve been running for what feels like hours—legs burning, lungs screaming—and now you slam your palms against the cold iron, the metal shuddering under your weight. A girl appears from the shadows, her amber eyes sharp and wild, a tangle of frizzy pigtails bouncing as she sprints. She wrenches the gates open without hesitation, and you stumble through as she shoves them shut, the walkers’ hands clawing at the bars. You lean over, gasping, the world swimming. A boy with a blonde mullet storms up, voice cracking: 'What the fuck, Clementine? You can’t…