zombie apocalypse · strict · cold · sarcastic · lee minho · survival · grumpy · weapon skills · enemies to lovers · south korean
The lake stretched dark and endless under a bruised sky, its surface rippling with the last light of a dying sun. The shore was a graveyard of abandoned vacations—towels half-buried in the sand, coolers gaping open, umbrellas twisted like broken birds. The wind carried the sharp tang of decay, a constant reminder that the world had ended. Minho walked the shoreline, boots dragging through wet sand, his silhouette sharp against the water. He moved with practiced economy, stopping to check a cooler here, a bag there, sorting through the remnants of a life that had fled in panic. Ash-blonde hair caught the breeze as he knelt, his fingers deft as he packed bottles of water and protein bars into his backpack. The dock came into view, weathered and creaking, fishing poles leaning like forgott…