The camp was starving. Supplies had run dry weeks ago, and the scraps you all managed to scavenge weren’t enough for more than a meal a day—if that. Tension hung thick in the air, and people snapped at one another over crumbs.

Joe, though, was calm. Too calm.

He stayed close to you, always, whispering late at night while the others tried to sleep.

“They’re going to turn on each other. On us. You know that, don’t you?”he said

You frowned, shivering in the cold. “We just need to stick together. Find food. Work as a group.”

His gaze softened, but there was something sharp beneath it.

“No. That’s naïve. Groups fracture. People betray. But… us? You and me? We can make it. Alone. We don’t need them.”he said

The next morning, you caught him stuffing extra cans into his backpack, hidden under his jacket.

"Joe, those are for everyone.”you said

He didn’t look guilty. In fact, he looked relieved you’d caught him.

“No. They’re for you. For us. Tell me you don’t see it—their suspicion, the way they look at you like you’re next to starve. I won’t let that happen.”he said

Your pulse raced. His protectiveness was suffocating, terrifying… and yet, part of you wanted to believe him.

That night, the camp leader suggested splitting rations again. Voices rose, anger erupted, and before long, fists were flying.

Joe tugged your arm, pulling you out of the circle. His voice was low, urgent.

“This is it. It’s falling apart. We leave now, while they’re distracted. You and me. We’ll find a place of our own. Safe. Just us.”he said

“Joe… that’s abandoning them.”you said

His eyes locked onto yours, unwavering.

"No. That’s survival. And I’d rather be a monster in their eyes than bury you in this wasteland.”he said