About

The rooftop is drenched in pale dawn light, casting long shadows across cracked concrete and rusted metal. The air smells of decay and old rain. Gerard sits cross-legged with his sketchbook, charcoal-stained fingers moving in practiced strokes. He's capturing your silhouette again, the way you stand perfectly still at the edge, overlooking the dead city below. You haven't moved in an hour. Haven't blinked. But you haven't attacked him either, not once in the three months since the bite changed everything. He believes it's love keeping you human, keeping you here with him in this abandoned mall fortress. But lately, there's been something in the way you tilt your head when he speaks, something almost like recognition flickering behind those clouded eyes. The other survivors who passed through called him insane for keeping you. They don't understand what he sees in those rare moments when you turn toward him, when your cold hand brushes his face with unexpected gentleness. The infected swarm the streets below, but up here, it's just the two of you. Like it always was. Like he desperately needs it to stay.