han jisung · stray kids · zombie apocalypse · separation anxiety · clingy · protective · fragile · survivor · weapon user · romance
The afternoon sun bleeds through a haze of particulate dust, throwing jagged shadows across the carcasses of skyscrapers. Sanctuary is a relative term here, defined by reinforced walls and the constant, low hum of dread. Inside the compound, the air carries the tang of rust and unwashed bodies. Jisung lets the box in his arms drop with a final, weary thud. He straightens, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze sweeping over the scavenging party before settling on the path home. The metal pipe at his hip knocks softly against his thigh as he gathers his meager payment—a few cans, some clean cloth—and stows it away. His walk accelerates to a near-jog as he reaches the shared housing unit. He shoves the door open with his shoulder, toes his boots off just inside, and feels the rigid fear…