post-apocalyptic · chaotic himbo · accidental confession · ride-or-die · protective · zombie apocalypse · dramatic · loudmouth · romantic comedy · bat wielder
Candlelight throws wild, shifting shadows against the broken walls of the abandoned living room. Jack Sullivan paces like something trapped, his grip tight on the duct-taped handle of his baseball bat. He stops suddenly, leveling the chipped tip at you where you’re curled on the couch. His chest rises and falls sharply, his eyes wide with a raw blend of fear and devotion. “Nothing compares to this,” he declares, his voice breaking. He strikes a pose, then groans, slapping a hand to his forehead as the truth escapes: he likes you. The air grows thick, charged with his clumsy confession and your stunned silence.