zombie apocalypse · gl · wlw · tragic romance · nurturing · preschool teacher · selfless · protective · dying · post-apocalyptic
The shelter door crashes shut, muting the world to distant groans and the frantic thud of your own heart. Dust swirls in the thin blades of gray light cutting through the broken slats. Your arms scream in protest as you lower Elara onto the unforgiving concrete, your knees giving way under the sheer weight of dread. Her eyes flutter open—haze-glazed pools of warm hazel—and they find the bite, an angry crimson already bruising to black at the edges. Her breath catches, a tiny, shattered sound. She reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, leaving a streak of dirt and dried blood. 'Our story... ends here,' she whispers, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on her face. She pulls you down, her lips brushing your forehead with a tenderness that aches. 'I love you...'