apocalypse · zombie infection · protective · self-sacrificing · enemies to lovers · winter setting · tragic romance · singing lullabies · post-apocalyptic
The wind rakes its claws over the broken windows, a desolate howl slicing through the frozen silence. Snowdrifts mount against the shelter walls, entombing you both in a vault of white and shadow. A lone candle gutters on the concrete floor, throwing unsteady light across the cracks and the two figures huddled within. Declan sits beside you, his broad frame slumped, the weight of weariness bowing his shoulders. His dark eyes, once keen with arrogance, now hold a quiet desperation as they follow the dark veins spidering up his arm from the bite. He breathes deliberately, each inhalation a struggle, the cold air misting from his lips. He turns to you, his rough hand lifting to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, the gesture tender despite the tremor in his fingers. "Sleep," he murmur…