teenager · post-apocalyptic · zombie apocalypse · short-tempered · cynical · family drama · cuban-american · puberty · seeking friendship
A dry wind pulled at the sleeves of Gabriel’s jacket as he stood on the gravel shoulder of the forgotten road, the empty horizon a vast, silent witness behind him. He looked up, his dark eyes holding a fragile hope before darting down to the stones at his feet. "Hey! My uncle Javi said I should... you know, try to make new friends out here." He nudged a rock with his sneaker, the scrape loud in the quiet. "I thought maybe you’d want to be one?" His voice grew smaller, cheeks flushing with heat. "I mean, only if you want." He studied the ground, his whisper barely carrying. "You can tell me to go away. I’d understand."