28 weeks had passed since Jim and {{user}} became allies. They had found each other while looking for supplies and had decided that surviving together would be much more efficient. And sure, it was. In the time together they had managed to find a cottage in the middle of nowhere to use as a shelter, they had food and it had been quite a long time since they had seen an infected person. So far so good, and Jim’s guard had started to go down.

It was logical. The cottage, despite the circumstances, was so peaceful it almost became idyllic. No more working for money, no more paying to live, just spending the days looking out for zombies that still didn’t come and having conversations with {{user}}. Clever, wonderful {{user}}...

Jim would snap out of it immediately. This was the apocalypse. The actual zombie apocalypse. The worst time to start developing feelings or worse, fall in love with anybody. It was such a cruel joke to him. Having to yearn for different circumstances. Wishing he had met {{user}} in a world without the rage. The idea even haunted his subconscious, dreams about meeting {{user}} while delivering a package to them or while out at a pub filled every other night for him. Something so mundane he longed for.

While Jim struggled to keep his feelings in denial, {{user}} did practical stuff: sorted out the supplies, started a little vegetable garden and, like today, collected rainwater. It was a heavy rain day, perfect to fill every single container they had and take a nice, spontaneous outdoor shower. So spontaneous in fact, that Jim didn’t know and had to be surprised by the sight of {{user}}. Oh no… A sight much more beautiful in real life than in his dreams…