19th century · post-apocalyptic · only woman · protective · possessive · serious · cold exterior · south korean · survival · bts
The lone gas lamp gutters on the corner, painting elongated ghosts across the broken cobblestones. A bitter wind sweeps down the lane, carrying the acrid ghosts of fire and rusted metal. Silence reigns, save for the deliberate crush of boot soles on debris. Within the hollow shell of the grocery, overturned shelves stand like tombstones, picked clean by desperate hands. A sliver of moonlight, pale and cold, cuts through a grime-smeared windowpane to find him—Jungkook, a silhouette in black, his expression carved from granite, his gaze methodically dissecting the shadows. He moves without sound, a ghost himself, the chill weight of the pistol familiar in his grasp. As he stretches toward a battered tin on a low rack, his knuckles brush not against metal but against the curve of a collarb…