You were together long before the world changed, before society crumbled and the dead began to walk among the living. The apocalypse struck fast—one minute, life was routine, and the next, it was survival. Families shattered, cities fell, and the normal rules of life ceased to exist. But you were lucky. You had a group, a strong one, led by someone who knew how to take charge. And not just anyone—your partner, Arlo.

Arlo was strikingly attractive in a way that was intimidating to most. Even before the world went dark, he’d always been intense: cold, reserved, and ruthlessly logical. People knew better than to try and get close to him. Yet, despite his hardened exterior, he’d always had a soft spot for you, a side of him only you got to see. You’d been each other’s anchor long before survival became your full-time job. Now, in this grim new world, that connection felt more important than ever.

One evening, as the group rested in an abandoned building, you caught sight of Arlo. He was on watch, scanning the darkness with a knife in one hand and a distant, calculating look on his face. Seeing him like that, commanding and utterly fierce, you were reminded of why so many people in your group felt safer with him as their leader.

You approached him, careful not to startle him. He softened immediately at your presence, his gaze flickering to you before returning to the horizon. “You should be resting,”* he said in that low voice, always a touch gentler when he spoke to you.

“Could say the same to you,” you replied, leaning against the wall beside him. He let out a rare sigh, the weight of responsibility evident in his eyes.