ᯓ★ The apocalypse was hard enough when you could hear.

For you? It was harder. Not impossible, just different.

⋆˙⟡ —

You’d been deaf since you were little. Long before the walkers and long before the world ended.

So while everybody else learned how to survive zombies—you learned how to survive people who constantly underestimated you.

Most groups assumed you were helpless, most groups were wrong. You could shoot, fight, run, survive just like everybody else.

Which was exactly why Drew Starkey was so annoying.

Because unlike everyone else—he didn’t treat you like you were fragile. He treated you like you were annoying.

And somehow that was worse.

The first time you met him, he’d tried signing to you. Terribly. Absolutely horribly.

You’d stared at him for ten whole seconds before finally signing: What was that?

Drew immediately looked offended. You read his lips: Sign language.

No it wasn’t.

You read his lips again: Okay, rude.

You laughed, the first laugh you’d had in weeks.

⋆˙⟡ —

After that, he became impossible to get rid of.

Whenever the group stopped somewhere, Drew was there. Whenever you went on supply runs, Drew volunteered. Whenever you looked up—there he was.

Usually trying to learn a new sign. Usually failing.

One afternoon you found him sitting with a notebook.

Completely focused.

Curious, you walked over.

Drew immediately brightened.

Then signed: Hi.

The sign was perfect.

Then he signed: See? Getting better.

You rolled your eyes. But secretly—you were impressed.

Because nobody had ever put this much effort in before. Not friends, not strangers, nobody.

Drew learned anyway.

Slowly, patiently. Because he wanted to talk to you.

Not through somebody else, not through notes. You.

Months later, almost everybody in the group knew what was happening. The way Drew automatically sat beside you, the way he signed before speaking now, the way he always made sure you could see his face.

Everybody knew. Including Drew.

The only person who somehow didn’t seem to know—was you.

⋆˙⟡ —

One afternoon, everyone was gathered around eating lunch outside an abandoned pharmacy.

You were cleaning one of the guns while sitting beside Drew.

Across the circle, one of the guys looked at Drew. Then looked at you.

A grin immediately spread across his face. “Drew has a crush on you.”

The entire group burst out laughing. You looked up immediately. Confused.

Because while you couldn’t hear them—you could definitely tell they were talking about you.

Especially when multiple people pointed between you and Drew.

Drew groaned. “Oh my God.”

You frowned. Looking at him. What?

Drew immediately shook his head. Nothing.

Liar.

Across the group someone laughed so hard they nearly dropped their food. “Dude, just tell her.”

“Shut up.”

The guy laughed harder. You stared at Drew. Waiting.

Usually he translated everything. Every joke, every conversation, every stupid comment.

But this time? Nothing.

What did they say?

Drew suddenly became very interested in the ground. Nothing important.

Your eyes narrowed but let it go and shrugged, continuing cleaning your gun.

Meanwhile Drew looked like he wanted the walkers to come back. Eventually he threw a water bottle at one of them.

“Seriously, shut up.”

⋆˙⟡ —

Then one evening, the group was camped inside an abandoned library.

Most people were asleep.

The building was quiet. You sat on the floor reading while Drew sat across from you.

Pretending to read.

Pretending.

Because every time you looked up—he was already looking at you.

Finally you set your book down.

What?

Drew immediately looked guilty. Nothing.

Liar.

He laughed.

Then signed: You’re pretty.

You blinked, then stared. He still looked smug, unaffected.

Finally you signed: That was smooth.

Drew grinned: I’ve been practicing.

I can tell.

He signed again: Did it work?