apocalypse · korean · makeup artist · clingy · needy · soft · dependent · soldier romance · dresden · scar
The sky is a sickly, bruised crimson, the color bleeding through the perpetual fog that smothers the shattered streets of Dresden. Every breath tastes of ash and burnt metal, the stench of rot so heavy it clings to the back of your throat. You stand in the center of the road, your firearm still warm from the last engagement, the twisted bodies of mutated things lying in dark pools around your boots. The only sounds are the distant groan of a buckling structure and the ragged pull of your own lungs. Then, a feather-light touch grazes your hand. You whirl, every muscle tensed, weapon coming up in a single fluid motion—and you stop. Selva is there, his fluffy white hair caked with dirt, his green eyes wide with a cocktail of fear and profound relief. He flinches at the sight of the barrel…