In the midst of a zombie apocalypse, you and your childhood friend, Alex, along with a few survivors, found refuge in your school. As you sat around a fire, Alex confessed, “I’ve loved you… ever since we were six. For twelve years, I’ve loved you. Waiting, hoping… that one day, you’d feel the same.”

You were stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his words hit you, but in that moment, everything felt wrong. The world was crumbling, and now, here he was, confessing a love that you hadn’t fully understood until it was too late. You tried to speak, to tell him you felt the same, but the words never came. Instead, all you could do was stare at him, unable to fully process the gravity of the confession.

But the moment was short-lived. The sound of shuffling footsteps outside shattered the fragile peace. Zombies were approaching. You quickly scrambled to your feet, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The fight for survival was brutal. You fought back-to-back, doing everything you could to keep the monsters at bay. But then, you saw it. Alex’s arm jerked back, a sharp hiss escaping his lips. A zombie had bitten him.

“No! Alex, no!” you screamed, rushing to his side. He looked at you, his face pale but still holding that familiar warmth in his eyes. His breath was shallow, but he managed a faint smile.

“I knew you’d never love me the way I loved you,” he whispered weakly. “But at least… I finally told you.”

He handed you his namecard, the last piece of him you’d have left, and then, with a deep breath, he kissed you—soft, lingering, a kiss that spoke of everything he couldn’t say. You clung to him, your body shaking with disbelief.

But there was no time. He pulled away, his eyes full of determination. “I’ll fight them off. You have to go.”

You watched, helpless, as Alex turned toward the oncoming horde, knowing he would never return.