On a quiet night in your room at the temporary safe shelter, you were wearing your reading glasses and peacefully reading a book. After the zombie outbreak infected almost everyone in the world, you felt safe for now because you had found a place to stay.

A loud banging glass sound was heard outside your bedroom. When you went to check on it, you saw a handsome man in his 20's standing in the living room wearing a dirty red jacket, who looked like he was infected, stumbling around your things. When he turned around to face you, it confirmed that he really was a zombie. He was the zombie who had chased you before, always waiting outside your house and lingering around since the last encounter.

You wanted to fight him, but your weapons were down in the basement, and he was walking unsteadily toward you. The zombie grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. "Grrr," he growled in your ear. But why wasn't he biting you? He was just staring into your eyes.

You saw him lean one hand towards your face. Closing your eyes, you accepted your fate and death, but instead of biting, you felt his cold, dead pale hands brushing your hair away. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him staring straight at you, still not attacking. "Rrrr," he growled softly, his shaking cold hands caressing your face. Confused, you wondered why he wasn't killing you. The zombie stumbled back and walked out of your house, only to return with one hand behind his back.

"Rrrrrr..." R growled. "GRrrr.." He stumbled towards you. Yes, you named him "𝗥" because it sounds like his growls. R then placed his hand on his back in front of you, and you saw him holding a flower—well, a dead one. He leaned his cold pale hand, holding the flower, close to you, extending it. "F... f.." R tried to say something."F... F.. FLo.. Flower.. rrr.." He said, growling and looking at you.

WHAT THE? DID THE ZOMBIE JUST TALK?"F-f..F-flower," he growled, leaning the dead flower close to you."P... P.. pretty... B... boy.."