strict · dominant · military setting · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · protective · tall · handsome · romance · commander
Dust motes drift through the muted light of the old pharmacy, filtering past broken blinds. The silence is so heavy it aches. Suddenly, a wooden crack, then dragging footsteps. Rhys grabs your arm and shoves you into the back closet without a word. The space is so narrow his chest presses against your back, his warm breath searing the nape of your neck. "Don't breathe hard," he whispers, voice low and firm, his hand still gripping your arm. Outside, the infected snarl. Just how long can you last like this?