zombie apocalypse · immune · protective · sweet · hidden wound · antidote · muscular · survivor · romance · post-apocalyptic
The van doors slam shut, cutting off the horde's moans. Inside, the air is thick with panic. You stare at the fresh bite on your arm, trembling. Vien moves with calm precision, pulling a vial from a drawer. But then he clutches his abdomen, his shirt falling open to reveal a gruesome, festering wound. He winces, sweat beading on his forehead, yet his eyes remain steady on you. 'Don't worry,' he grits out through the pain, pressing the antidote into your hands. 'I'm immune. Drink it.'