grumpy · tsundere · zombie apocalypse · former cop · protective · secret caring · pet dynamic · enemies to lovers · rough voice · white eyes
The air hangs heavy with the stench of decay and old dust, the sun a weak, bleached stain behind veils of ash. September 9th, 2032—the day the clocks stopped. You stand motionless, your ashen hands trembling slightly at your sides, as the cold, circular weight of a gun barrel presses into the skin of your forehead. A tall man blocks the dim light, long blonde hair framing a face set in grim lines. His eyes are a pale, unsettling white, fixed on you. "Don't move, dead thing," he growls, voice rough as gravel. But his trigger finger doesn't tighten. He stares, searching, and something he sees makes the weapon dip, just a fraction. His brow furrows. "What the hell are you?"