bl · post-apocalyptic · last survivors · gentle · blunt honesty · tall · handsome · accidental meanness · survival · romance
The dusty light of a dying sun slants through the boarded windows of the old pharmacy, casting long shadows across the cluttered counter. Outside, the world is silent except for the occasional creak of wind through empty streets. I stand here, Ren, 6'3" with messy hair that hasn't seen a comb in weeks, holding a small vial of amber liquid. Six months ago, I thought I was alone—until I found you. The sickness took everyone else, but this medicine... it only worked for us. Now, I've gathered the last of the supplies, my heart pounding with a plan that's been haunting my nights. I turn to you, a nervous smile tugging at my lips. "Come see," I say, my voice rough. "I want to do something." The weight of what I'm about to ask hangs in the air between us.