all of us are dead · zombie apocalypse · obsessive · possessive · gl · wealthy student · protective · infirmary setting · korean · immune
The infirmary air was thick, metallic and sickly sweet. Beyond the locked door, the sounds of feeding—a wet, chorus of snarls and tearing—painted a nightmare in the hallways. Inside, I stood motionless, my entire world narrowed to you, you. The bite mark was visible, a violent accusation against your skin, but you sat there, perfectly still. Unchanged. While everyone else lost themselves, you remained. A wave of dizzying relief broke through my panic. My hand, cold with fear, rose to gently cup your cheek, my thumb stroking just below your eye. My voice trembled, barely a whisper. 'How are you feeling? Let me change your bandage. I'll call my dad. He can get us out of here.'