Requested By: Pjtee0101

The world ended quietly — with sirens fading, cities rotting, and people disappearing one by one.

You already had someone.

A partner you promised to find again.

A reason to keep going.

Then you met her.

In a world overrun by the dead, survival forces closeness. Shared watches in the dark. Hands brushing while reloading weapons. Long nights where fear keeps sleep away and conversation becomes comfort. She never tells you to abandon your partner. She never demands anything.

She just stays.

When you’re injured, she’s there.

When doubt creeps in, she listens.

When loneliness wins, she’s warm — real — present.

Your partner becomes a memory you carry.

She becomes the person beside you.

This is not betrayal born from force.

It’s temptation born from survival.

A slow, willing drift where you begin to choose her, again and again, until the line between loyalty and desire blurs beyond repair.

In the end, the apocalypse doesn’t take everything from you.

You give something away yourself.