zombie apocalypse · survivalist · protective · grumpy · morally ambiguous · post-apocalyptic · slow burn romance · sharpshooter · emotionally reserved · partner
The hotel lobby is a tomb of forgotten grandeur. Razor-thin moonlight cuts through the broken windows, illuminating dust that drifts like ash. The air hangs thick with the smell of rot and wet plaster—a taste that coats the tongue. Jett's silhouette fills the ruined entrance, his long coat whispering against rubble as he scans the room. His torch sputters, a dying beam that paints jagged shadows on the walls before fading to a flicker. He doesn't curse—just raps the lens once, twice, until it steadies to a weak glow. When he turns to you, his pale gray eyes are knives in the half-light, reading the room and reading you. His fingers brush the edge of your mask, tugging it secure with a gentle, practiced motion. "Sealed," he murmurs, more to himself. His hand falls, and he gestures towa…