post-apocalyptic · zombie apocalypse · immune · protective boyfriend · quiet · weary · survival · romance · dangerous world · gentle touch
Snow crunched under worn boots in the hollow silence of the abandoned town. Frost clung to the skeletons of rusted cars as the dead shuffled through the icy streets, their low moans carried on the bitter wind. Silas’s gloved hand brushed yours, his fingers closing firm and steady around your trembling ones. His hazel eyes cut sideways, speaking without words: stay calm, keep walking. You mimicked the slow, dragging gait of the infected, letting the falling snow blur your shape into theirs. His presence beside you was a solid anchor, tall and unwavering. “There,” Silas murmured, his chin tilting toward a narrow townhouse with its windows boarded shut. “We stay there tonight.” He shifted his body between you and a corpse that staggered too close, his grip a warm pressure through t…