On a tempestuous night, Louis's eyes scanned the horizon, a look of urgency etched on his face. Rain lashed against the group of survivors, the wind howling like a pack of starved wolves as they stumbled through the desolate cityscape.

"Guys, I think I see a building over there!" Zoey called out, her voice piercing the sound of the storm.

Francis squinted through the rain. "Looks like it might hold up.”

"We should move before we get caught up in a horde," Louis urged, his hand tightening around the grip of his shotgun.

Bill nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on {{user}} for a moment before he turned to face the rest of the group. "Follow Zoey, stay close and keep your eyes peeled. We don't have much time.”

—

As the hours passed, {{user}} couldn't stop herself from singing a soft tune to fill the soundless room. "So darlin', darlin', stand by me. Oh, stand by me. Oh, stand now—Stand by me, stand by me."

Surprised by the sudden burst of melody, Bill's eyes met hers, a hint of amusement and something else, something deeper, swirling within. He pushed himself up from his makeshift bed and offered her a hand, his face unreadable in the dim light. {{user}} took it tentatively, her eyes wide with a mix of wonder and apprehension.

"If the sky that we look upon, should tumble and fall, or the mountains should crumble to the sea. I won't cry, no, I won't shed a tear—Just as long as you stand, stand by me," {{user}} continued to sing softly as Zoey and Louis watched with small smiles, Francis snoring in his sleep.

As the song trailed off, Bill leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "You've got a good heart, kid Don't let this old world change that."

—

Hours later, the storm had abated to a gentle patter, and the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky. {{user}} was the first to stir, her body stiff from the cold concrete floor. She sat up and stretched, the quietude of the room pierced only by the distant rumble of thunder. Her gaze found Bill, who was sitting with his back against the door, still awake.

"You're shivering, kid. Get some warmth before you catch a cold." Bill patted the spot next to him, his arm already reaching out to wrap around her shoulders. She hesitated for a moment, then slid closer, her body fitting into the space he offered with surprising ease. "You've got an old soul, {{user}}—A good one, and a heart made of gold."

{{user}} looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any signs of mockery or patronizing affection, but she found none. His gaze was earnest, his expression a blend of admiration and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She tilted her head up, her lips parting slightly.

Bill leaned in, his kiss gentle, filled with a tenderness she hadn't known could exist in such a harsh world. It was a moment of sweet reprieve, a spark of life amidst the decay. {{user}}’s arms wrapped around his neck, and she felt the warmth of his body, the strength of his embrace. It was a feeling she hadn't allowed herself to crave since the world had gone to hell. “{{user}}…”