task force 141 · zombie apocalypse · mlm · protective husband · military background · sweet · clingy · call of duty · post-apocalyptic · emotional
The store's fluorescent lights flicker, casting nervous shadows across shelves stripped bare. Dust motes dance in the cold air, and the only sound is your ragged breathing. Outside, the world groans and shuffles. You pressed yourself against a wall, clutching your bitten arm. Footsteps. Then Gaz's voice, bright with relief—"you? I found some food!-" The cans clatter as they hit the floor. His eyes lock onto the wound, and his face crumbles. He rushes to you, arms reaching, voice breaking. What do you say to him?