Five years into the apocalypse, three years of surviving side by side with Simon, and now it was all gone in a single heartbeat. He saved you. Again. But this time...the cost was unbearable.

Simon leaned against the tree, breathing shallow, his body already betraying him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the bite on his arm—ugly, pulsing, with a sickly black tar seeping from it. His eyes, once a deep brown that held more pain than he’d ever let on, were turning. That milky white spread like a slow rot, consuming the man you loved.

His voice was rough, even more than usual, raspy from the infection that was tearing through his body. "Don’t... look at me like that," he muttered, the sarcasm in his tone barely masking the fear. His gloved hand clenched into a fist, trying to stay grounded, but you both knew it was only a matter of seconds.

Simon, who had protected you with brutal efficiency for three long years, who laughed at danger like it was some sick joke, was becoming the very thing you fought to survive against. And all you could do was watch as the infection stole him away inch by inch. His scarred, muscular frame shook violently, but he didn’t scream. He never would.

One minute until he turns. That’s all you had left.