snippet of a satoru apocalypse!au fic i scrapped i'm working on
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with a deep breath, you pushed open the door silently. your eyebrows furrowed together as you raised your gun and quickly swept your eyes over the storefront. immediately, you locked on to the silhouette of a man who had his back to you.
“hands up, now,” you announced, stepping away from the doorframe and entering the aisle he was standing in.
he stilled at your voice. he was much taller, and well-built with white hair that desperately needed to be washed, being rubbed gray with dirt and dust. his back muscles flexed beneath the shirt pulled tight against his body, his hands on the shelf turning into fists. his backpack was laid out with his belongings, like he was taking inventory.
“hands. up.” you glanced at the handgun on the shelf. “and turn around.”
he followed your directions slowly, a sigh leaving him. “so demanding,” he murmured, followed by a low chuckle.
he turned to face you, head tilted to the side. he had a black neck gaiter covering the lower half of his face. unsettling blue eyes bored into you, almost challenging. you narrowed your eyes back at him.
“i figured someone else was in here, that bell on the hinge was a nice trip,” he commented, raising his eyebrows.
it bothered you he didn’t seem phased at the gun pointed at him.
“and you settled in anyway?” you nodded to his belongings.
“i needed to take a break, figured i’d take my chances.”
“take them somewhere else.”
his eyes crinkled with a smile you couldn’t see. “you gonna let me leave?”
your mind felt fuzzy, you were looking at him through a grimy haze. the blood loss, sleep deprivation and panic catching up with you at once like a dogpile threatening to bring you to the ground while you fought to stand on wobbling legs. you were suddenly hyper aware of the way blood was oozing out of the bandage, flowing down to the waistband of your jeans making you itch. could you let him leave? could you take him?
“leave your shit and step outside,” you said, gesturing your gun in his direction. “or die here. your choice.”
his eyes surveyed you carefully. the strength in your voice wasn't enough to convince him you meant what you said. he glanced down to your side, where the blood had started to spread through the cloth of your shirt.
he took a step forward. “you don’t look so good. you put the gun down and i can patch you up, i’ve got supplies.”
you clenched your jaw, and spoke through gritted teeth. “yeah, right. you think i’m gullible or some shit?” your head felt like a bowling ball, your body wanting nothing more than to collapse where you stood. the tile was cold, it would feel nice. “what do you want?”
“i want to keep moving. this place is just a pit stop for me.” he continued to walk towards you, slowly. he reached towards his neck gaiter carefully with spread fingers, peeling it off his face and letting it hang at his neck. his jaw was sharp, complimented by the smoothness of his skin and pretty pink lips. he must have scored vaseline somewhere.
“i have no interest in fighting you, or looting whatever it is you have here.”
“you want me to just believe you? what, just take your word for it?” you adjusted your grip on your gun, tilting it the closer he got.
his eyes roamed over your face. the blood loss was apparent with how much color had left your cheeks, your skin glazed over with a sheen of gray that could only be associated with fresh corpses. there were dark rings weighing down your eyes and a few scars littered across your forehead down to your neck, accompanied by a long scratch that dragged from your throat to behind your head. you looked like shit.
“you’re bleeding out, pretty. you don’t have much of a choice.”
“i could kill you right now, and fix myself up.”
he looked at you skeptically.
a few moments of silence passed as you weighed your options. he was a few feet away from you now, he had all the time in the world to lunge at you, slap your gun away or take it himself and get the job done. his weapons were abandoned at the opposite end of the aisle.
your back was throbbing. you wouldn’t be able to reach and patch it up yourself properly. “okay…”
“okay?” he echoed. “you’re gonna have to put the gun down, sweets.”
you nodded, taking a second to breath before doing just that. you set it on the ledge carefully, keeping your eyes on him.
he lowered his hands and took a deep breath, “okay, backpack off.” he smirked at your questioning expression. “so i can see the hit. m’gonna need your shirt up, too.”
after conceding just seconds ago, the fight has evaporated from your body and you’d lost all energy to speak, just nodding again. the convenience store felt freezing, and yet sweat was clinging to your skin. it steadily flowed down your forehead and tickled your neck before soaking into your neck gaiter. you slipped your backpack off your shoulders lazily and let it slam to the ground, wincing.
you weren’t sure when he grabbed a stool, but you collapsed on to it. leaning against the cool wall behind you felt like curling into a plush marshmallow, enticing you to indulge in restful sleep. he walked back to grab some supplies from his bag, then returned quickly. he brandished his supplies to you, waiting for your approval before continuing.
you turned to the side, leaning your forehead against the concrete and pulling up your shirt with a wince.
he whistled, raising his eyebrows. he crouched down to see it at eye-level. “wow, they got the jump on you, huh?”
“shut up,” you grumbled, hissing when he applied the rubbing alcohol to your skin. it took everything in you not to jump at the feeling, every muscle in your body tensing while his hands splayed across your back. it was disgustingly warm, rubbing against your sweat.
“this bandage is disgusting. and is wrapped horribly.” “it’s on my back, jackass. i did what i could.”
“so, you’re alone here?”
you froze, narrowing your eyebrows. you glanced at your gun, not too far away, and rubbed your clammy palms against your thighs.
“relax, i am too. i was just asking.” he firmly pressed against your wound with one hand and you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. his thumb rubbed against your unbroken skin soothingly. you listened to him unravel the medical tape with his other hand, snapping it apart with his teeth. “how long have you been hanging out here?”
“i just got here, i’m passing through.”
he nodded. “which way you headed?”
you went quiet.
“smart girl. i wouldn’t, either.”
he applied the bandage and smoothed his hands over it a few times, ignoring the way you hissed, then rested them on your sides as he stood up. he only pulled them back when you cleared your throat and started to tug your shirt back down.
you stood up shakily, closing your eyes for a few seconds. you grabbed your gun as you watched him walk back to his things. he wrapped up his supplies and tucked them into his bag, all but a hand knife he put in in a holster on his ankle and a gun he kept on his waist. you quietly clicked the safety back on, tucking it back in.
he looked at you with a bemused expression. “what, you think i was gonna fix you up just to take you out myself?”
“i’ve met some people like that, yeah."
he clicked his tongue, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “people are crazy these days. if i wanted you gone i’d let sepsis take care of you.”
you glared as he approached you again, hands up in playful surrender. he nodded to the backroom door. “so, you going to tell me what you were exploring back there?”
“... couple of dead bodies, i couldn’t get past one of the doors, though.” you sighed, leading the way through the door. “got interrupted before i could really try.”
he chuckled, tugging his neck gaiter back up. “don't sound so disappointed, if it weren’t for me you’d still be bleeding out.”
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i've never watched a zombie move/tv show im trying to figure out where to go with thisss
