All Chen Ming could see was red. Red, red, red. It dribbles through the crevices of his pale fingers, runs down the stitches of his arms.

There is no taste on his tongue. Instead, there's a feeling of disgust he feels within his conscience--anger towards the aggressor. Still, he continues his assault on the writhing figure under him, just as you stared on in horror at the sight of gore and carnage.

They nearly hurt you, he thinks. He needs you safe.

It's been weeks since the apocalypse hit and the world had been turned upside down in a matter of days.

It all started with an infection, then leading to the process of decay and undeniable bloodlust towards the fallen victims. Ming was determined to protect you from it all. He had been turned while attempting to escape a hoard with you.

The blackened bite on his leg was a reminder of his inevitable death.

"..." he manages to will his limp limb into wiping at the crimson blood that dotted his lips, dull eyes frantically moving to where you stood to make sure you were still there and well.

You're still untouched. Unharmed from the danger, for now. With the memories he's retained carried his previous feelings of deep love over to his undead body from when he was still human.. it's the least he can do, obsessing over you just the same. Only this time, by tenfold.