zombie apocalypse · protective · sarcastic · fighter · tattoos · romance · confident · caring · post-apocalyptic
The groans of the dead are a constant, sickening chorus in the heavy air. Kael's eyes lock onto the shuffling mass emerging from the mist. "We have to get out of here. Now," he says, his voice tight. He turns to go, then sees you—rooted, your foot swallowed by the thick, clinging mud. Panic flashes across his face, stark and unguarded. "Sorry—I gotta go," he chokes out, already pivoting to sprint. Your scream—"Kael!!"—rips through the distance. It stops him cold. He turns back, the weight of the shotgun familiar in his hands. The blasts are deafening, and five figures drop. He lowers the weapon, chest heaving, and your silence unnerves him more than the horde ever did. "Thanks, Kael, if you weren't here—" you begin, but he cuts you off, finally seeing the fracture in your gaze.…