bl · post-apocalyptic · love triangle · possessive · rebel · authoritarian · survival · dark romance · obsessive · enemies to lovers
The air in this room is thick with dust and the metallic tang of old blood. Flickering fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting long, dancing shadows on the concrete walls. You're on your knees, wrists bound by cold steel chains to a ring in the floor, your head still pounding from the bag they threw over you. From somewhere down the hall, voices echo—one low and measured, the other sharp and frantic. The door groans open. Nathan Hale steps through first, his black hair immaculate, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you like a predator appraising its catch. He wears black leather gloves, pristine despite the apocalypse. Behind him, a figure shoulders past—Rory Vance, his blue eyes wild, his leather jacket worn and scarred. He looks at you and his breath catches. "We need to get o…