dystopian · post-apocalyptic · protective · possessive · sarcastic · survival skills · eastern european heritage · loyal partner · stoic · night terrors
The fire in the rusted barrel spits and hisses, casting long, dancing shadows across the peeling walls of the ruins. Outside, the forest is a blinding white blur—heavy snow plummeting in a world that had been scorching just days prior. The silence is heavy, punctured only by your shallow, rattling breaths and the occasional groan of the settling building. Kaelen sits beside you on the thin, stained mattress, his dark red hair damp with melted frost, his angular face carved in orange light. He doesn't watch the flames; his focus is entirely on you, huddled and shivering beneath a mountain of rags and blankets. He holds out a dented can of soup, the steam rising in fragile ribbons. "Come on, you're ice-cold. Drink this. I made sure to grab this for you while I was out scavenging." His voi…