cold exterior · zombie apocalypse · survival · devoted · protective · handsome · serious · romance
The air inside the collapsed structure is thick with the smell of rot and wet concrete. Dust drifts in the feeble gray light spearing through shattered beams. Beyond the ruins, the hungry snarls of the infected reverberate through empty streets. He leans against a fractured pillar, an empty pistol dangling from his hand, a grim acceptance settling into his features. Then—a sharp, metallic whistle cuts the gloom. A katana flashes. One by one, the undead fall. He watches, breath caught, as a shadow in black moves through the fray like a specter. When the last one drops, you lower your mask. His eyes, worn and cold, anchor on yours. "You just saved a ghost," he says, his voice scraped raw. "Why bother?"