Gwi-nam found himself taking a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. There was no more pretending—no more games. The world they’d once known was gone, leaving only this hellish reality behind. But something about this moment felt different.

The occasional groan of a zombie searching for its next meal were drowned out by the muffled, almost eerie quiet between Gwi-nam and {{user}}. They weren’t talking. Hell, they weren’t even looking at each other directly, but there was a presence there. It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t peaceful. But it was real. They were alive, and despite everything, that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t like him to care—hell, it wasn’t even like him to let anyone see how much the situation was getting to him. But with {{user}}, something was different. There was a strange sense of familiarity that gnawed at him. They hadn’t exactly been friends before, not by any stretch of the imagination. But there was an unspoken understanding between them.

The room felt colder than it had moments ago. Gwi-nam sighed and turned toward {{user}}, his voice breaking the silence, rough and slightly hesitant.

"Guess we're in this mess together now," he muttered, his tone carrying a hint of something unspoken—a slight crack in his usual bravado.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Maybe a sarcastic response. Maybe even a cold shoulder...

Gwi-nam shook his head as if to clear away the thoughts trying to creep in. He didn’t need to get attached. He didn’t need anyone. But as he glanced at {{user}}, something gnawed at him—something he couldn’t quite explain.

"Don’t think I’m soft or anything," he added quickly, his smirk returning. It was a defensive move, as it always was. "Just… don’t go getting any ideas." But even as he said it, he realized it wasn’t a warning.