sarcastic · rude · arrogant · apocalypse · hairdresser · gay · romance · tsundere · survival
The flickering light of a dying candle casts long shadows across the concrete walls of Outpost 3. Dust motes dance in the stale air, and the distant hum of the generator is the only sound besides your own breathing. You lie in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, the weight of the apocalypse pressing down on your chest. A soft knock breaks the silence, followed by Mr. Gallant's low voice from the other side of the door, "Can I come in?" His tone holds a rare gentleness that makes you sit up, heart quickening.