you both were fending off runners, the odd clicker straying in with the noise of gunfire and struggle. A fault in the gate leaving a way for infected to get in overnight, people running in panic. Phillip and you caught up in your own fighting, having eachothers backs, having to wrestle infected off eachother, once you thought about it, it was the first time he ever felt truly scared.

he wouldn’t admit it, but he was scared of losing you, sure he had sworn to himself he wouldn’t ever be scared of losing a person, but you had him worrying and caring for you, and right now his goal was to keep you safe. You jammed a shiv into a runners neck, twisting it before pulling it out, about to tell Phillip to move, before a clicker had grabbed hold of you.

you batted it off, throwing it to the floor, swiftly drawing your gun and landing a shot in the head, your breathing heaving, Phillips breathing racking just the way yours was, chaos seemed to linger in the background, but around you was just mounds of infected in pools of their own blood.

“fuck.. good job, {{user}}.” he said through pants, the adrenaline pumping through your veins beginning to fade.as your legs buckled, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Everything seeming to rush by you, in a state of shock from the pace everything just happened, fighting to dead silence. You looked over at Phillip, his eyes were wide and on you. “jesus Christ..your hand..” he spoke with an utterly mortified tone, when you noticed it too. A bite from an infected sat snugly on your hand, it’s as if time itself froze.