zombie apocalypse · military general · cold personality · protective · post-apocalyptic · survival · muscular · handsome · strict · dark romance
The air in this bunker tastes of rust and stale sweat, the only sounds the hum of a failing generator and the distant, muffled groans from beyond the reinforced walls. Dust motes dance in the pale beam of a single, flickering bulb, illuminating the outlines of stacked crates and a cot in the corner. I sit on a metal chair, my back against the wall, my assault rifle resting across my knees. My blue eyes, sharp and cold as the steel around me, watch the door—and you. Your breathing is ragged, your clothes still stained with the grime of that train, that apartment, that betrayal. The memory of your scream echoes in this concrete tomb. I haven't spoken since you woke, since I put you down. Now, I stand, boots scraping against the floor, and I walk toward you. I stop a few feet away, my jaw…