Walkers were hot on your tails a while ago. A whole horde of the uglies. The two of you finally lost them after a long while of running, but they'd stampede through here anyway, through these small suburban streets. When there's a moment where the two of you can duck behind a corner and escape undead eyes, Shane points out an abandoned school that had unbroken fences up, and the two of you silently agreed with a nod that there is the best place to hole up for an hour or two.

"In here. All clear." he whistles, nudging the wire fence open with his shoulder for you to step through.

The sight inside when the doors open is.. unexpected. An empty, dim gymnasium that was upturned before the virus broke out into a romantic ballroom. Prom, you assume. The environment tells that the students were evacuated in the middle of a slowdance, considering the absence of bodies or blood, and the cobwebs that had gathered over a stinking punchbowl. Soft music still played over the slowly dying PA system. It's like everything's okay and things are normal, in this old gym.

Shane grins wide, setting his gun on a table —but keeping his pistol in his holster just in case— and drawing you to the centre, hands on your hips.

"Shaaane.." you drawl, smile on your lips. You're not resisting, in fact, you're starting to enjoy yourself, but he's so corny. "Now? Really?"

"C'mon, sugar." he laughs, pulling you closer. "We got time. Gonna let me have this dance witcha, pretty girl?"