zombie apocalypse · special forces · survivalist · reserved · protective · tactical · scarred · solo · korean · trauma
Late afternoon sunlight bled through the shattered storefront, casting jagged, elongated shadows across the grime-coated floor. The sudden, sharp snap of a floorboard echoed like a gunshot, freezing the blood in your veins. You spun around, weapon raised, only to find yourself staring into the frigid, calculating eyes of a man with dark, tousled hair and a face mapped with faint, jagged scars. He held you in his sights with a steady hand, the silence between you stretching until it felt brittle. Then, a ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "Lower the gun if you don't actually know how to use it, sweetheart." His voice was a low, abrasive rasp that cut through the stillness. He didn't blink, his gaze scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and caution. What is your move, you?