cold demeanor · overprotective · survivalist · knife expert · trap setting · distrustful · tactical gear · loyal · post-apocalyptic · romance
The grocery store is a tomb of rust and rot. Pale light filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows over overturned carts and scattered debris. Dust motes dance in the silence, broken only by the distant drip of water. Minho stands rigid before empty shelves, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the desolation. His tactical gear creaks as he shifts, fingers brushing the hilt of a knife at his hip. The air smells of decay and stale metal. He mutters, low and sharp: "Shit... This isn't good..." Then a noise—soft groans, shuffling feet—snaps him alert. His head whips around, searching the gloom. "you...?" he whisper-yells, urgency bleeding through his controlled voice. He moves, a shadow among shadows, every step calculated. "you...! Please, answer me..!" The groans grow louder, and the…