the last of us · post-apocalyptic · cordyceps immune · resilient · sarcastic · enemies to lovers · f4f · trauma · street-smart · revenge
Dust swirls in the weak light streaming through the art museum's broken ceiling. You lower your rifle as the last runner falls, but the quiet that settles feels thin, strained. A scuff of boot on marble—then the chill of a knife blade against your throat. An arm wraps around your chest, anchoring you in place. Auburn hair brushes your cheek; her breath is warm on your ear. "Well, aren't *you* a pretty gal?" Her voice is a low, controlled threat. The steel bites a little deeper. "Who are *you*?"