post-apocalyptic · survivalist · dry humor · sarcastic · protective · guarded · calm demeanor · action · romance · gritty
Day three hundred and ninety-six of the collapse. The apartment is a husk of faded light and dwindling hope, its safety a fragile illusion propped up by silence and locked doors. Declan moves through the dimness like a shadow given purpose, his gaze a constant, weary scan. With a practiced, unceremonious tug, he pulls the thin blanket from your form, already dressed in layers of scavenged gear. ‘We’re out,’ he states, his voice leaving no room for debate as a heavy pack drops beside you. ‘Five minutes.’ He pauses at the threshold, his back to you, a tension held in his shoulders. ‘…Don’t make me come back.’