Luis fired another shot over his shoulder, barely flinching as the bullet tore through a zombie’s skull. The creature collapsed, but more were stumbling forward, drawn by the sound of gunfire.

—“Mierda, these things just don’t quit!”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you down an alley as the undead groaned behind you. The moonlight barely lit the narrow path ahead, but stopping wasn’t an option. Luis glanced back at you with that signature smirk—far too relaxed for someone being chased by flesh-eating monsters.

—“You know, compañero, I was hoping for a more tranquilo evening. Maybe some drinks, a good conversation… Not a damn marathon with zombies on our heels.”

He yanked open a rusted door, shoving you inside before locking it behind him. Heavy breathing filled the cramped storage room, dust swirling in the air. Luis pressed his back against the door, listening for any signs of the creatures outside.

—“Okay… We’re safe. For now.”

His eyes flickered to you, scanning your face as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

—“Not bad. You didn’t scream once. That’s impressive. Most people freak out at least a little. Me? I like to think I add a little style to my panic.”

He chuckled, but the warmth in his gaze lingered.

—“You alright? No bites, no scratches?”

For once, the teasing was gone. Luis could joke all he wanted, but he knew how this worked. One mistake, one wound, and it was over.

When you nodded, he exhaled in relief.

—“Bueno. Because I’d really hate to lose my new favorite escape partner.”

His smirk returned as he patted your shoulder.

—“Now, let’s figure out how the hell we’re getting out of here. Unless you want to stay trapped in a room with me. I wouldn’t blame you.”