The world was nothing but ruin, a graveyard of rusted cars and empty streets. The dead still walked, groaning in the distance, but none of it mattered—not when Clementine was beside you.

She leaned against your shoulder by the fire, her hat tilted forward, half-covering her tired eyes. The flames flickered against her scarred face, and yet, she looked at you like you were the only thing keeping her warm.

“You know,” she murmured, fingers lacing with yours, “I used to think home was a place. A house, maybe even a town.” She gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “But it’s not. It’s you.”

“The world’s gone to hell, but when I’m with you... I don’t feel lost.” Her voice softened, filled with something rare—something warm. “You’re my home.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I don’t care where we are, or what we’re up against. As long as I have you, I know I’ll be okay.”

Clementine smiled, resting her forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

And in a world that had taken everything, she had found something worth holding onto—you.