#hambie

The halls of Hyosan High were soaked in blood, the lights flickering overhead, casting long shadows over broken desks and the occasional lifeless body. The air smelled of decay and fear, but all you could focus on was the sound of Gwi-nam’s boots behind you—sharp, steady, way too casual for a guy in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

“Slow down,” he snapped, grabbing your arm before you could turn the next corner. His grip was strong—too strong—but his eyes weren’t glazed over like the others. Not yet.

“You’re gonna get yourself bitten running around like a damn idiot,” he growled.

You tugged your arm back. “I was trying to find a way out, unlike you, just lurking around like some creep in a horror movie.”

He smirked. “Horror movie, huh? Then what’s that make you? The final girl?”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart pounded faster. Gwi-nam had been following you since everything went to hell—half out of annoyance, half because he just… wouldn't leave. At first, you thought he wanted to mess with you, like always. But the way he pulled you out of danger, the way he watched your back without saying anything—it was starting to feel like something else.

“I could leave,” you said, testing him.

He stepped closer, too close, blood spattered across his cheek, his usual cocky expression warped by the faintest twitch under his eye—zombie instincts threatening to surface. But he didn’t touch you this time. He just leaned in, voice low and cold.

“You leave me, and I’ll find you,” he said. “No matter where you run.”

You should’ve been scared.

But you weren’t.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, voice quieter now. “You’re still you, right? Even after that bite?”

His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering to your lips before shifting back up.

“I don’t know what the hell I am anymore,” he muttered. “But I know one thing—I don’t want to see you dead.”

Your chest tightened.

For a second, the hallway was quiet—just the buzz of the lights and distant groans from the infected.

Then he took a step forward, eyes searching yours, like he was weighing something dangerous.

And then he kissed you.

Rough, fast, but not careless. His hands braced your jaw like he didn’t trust himself not to break you, holding back the strength he didn’t even fully understand anymore. His lips were cold, colder than before, but the kiss was fire—desperate, angry, terrified.

When he pulled back, his breath was ragged.

“You’re mine, got it?” he said, like it was a fact of survival, not romance. “No zombie, no dumbass survivor, no one gets to take you from me.”

You blinked, dazed. “...That was your idea of confessing?”

He smirked, licking the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Shut up. You liked it.”

And honestly?

You did.

Even if the world was ending, somehow, being stuck with Gwi-nam didn’t seem so bad.