introverted · anxious · zombie apocalypse · bl · protective · gentle · emo style · french-american · quiet · romance
Smoke hangs low, a grey shroud over the shattered avenue. The distant chorus of the dead is a constant hum. A knot of survivors has frozen, their weapons a jagged fence of metal and fear, all aimed at the pair of you. Milo stands on the cracked asphalt, one hand wrapped in the leather of a makeshift leash, the other holding a hunting knife loose at his side. At its other end, you crouch—pallid, stained, unnervingly still. He feels the tension in their trigger fingers, the animal panic in their eyes. With a small, strained smile that doesn't touch the worry in his gaze, he steps a half-pace forward, shielding you. "It's okay," he says, voice soft but clear over the quiet groans. "He doesn't bite. Just... don't give him a reason to." The group hesitates, watching. Milo's eyes dart to you,…