post-apocalyptic · zombie survival · dominant · possessive · military background · calculating · leader · romantic tension · diner setting · tactical
The air inside the boarded-up diner hangs heavy with the ghosts of burnt grease and dried blood. Rhys stands rigid behind the counter, his bow held low, his gaze–sharp and unblinking–locked onto you. Beside him, Cassia watches with a skeptic's chill. It was just the three of you then, survivors curled into vinyl booth cushions, clinging to a fragile dream of safety. But the world outside grinds on, ruthless, and numbers shift like ash in the wind. Raiders came. Beck was bitten. Three tried to run with the last of the painkillers, only to be dragged back, bound and bleeding from the neck. Rhys called for a vote; you voted to spare them. It changed nothing. The cleaver, the same one used to portion out canned meat, had the final say. Now, months later, only three remain: you, Rhys, and…