Days In
I: Bloodletting
RATED X MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
❥Song Mingi x fem reader
(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)genre: zombie apocalypse au, TWD universe
♫Days In Soundtrack♫
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: see general warnings in the masterlist ! this chapter includes: 5.4k words, killing zombies, guns and knifes, communication barrier won't be stopping these freaks, smoochin, sex happens off screen this time sorry, size difference of fucking course, reader shoots someone non-fatally, s/a (happens offscreen to unnamed characters and is only talked about, but not explicitly by any means), the nickname baby going both ways, bold is spoken or written in korean
➯a/n: baby boy finally getting his own series !! this chapter doesn't have a loooot of twd plot in it but we're fast approaching, i just wanted to establish their own backstory a little bit before we get into the chaos !
♡masterlist + navigation !♡
October 9th, 2010
Day Forty-Six
The trees rustle around in the wind, a slight breeze washing over you as you sit atop a broken down car; journal sat in your lap as you write slowly.
Middle of the street, legs dangling off the side of the Sedan.
A soft whistle calls your attention, peeking over your shoulder to see Mingi emerging from the woods that surround you on either side.
"Anything?" You ask as you slide to make room for him while he steps on the trunk of the car to climb up.
He shakes his head, "no." A simple and clear answer, just like you've come to expect of him over this past month.
"Maybe we should head... this way?" You trace a path with your finger on the map glued down across two pages of your book.
He sits beside you, booted feet dangling further than your own, eyes following your finger. "Mm," he hums in disagreement, tapping at the river on the path and then down to the key.
"Why?"
He slips the pencil from your fingers and turns to a clean page. A shaky, quick pair of footprints is drawn, and then he makes a sound similar to rushing water as he scribbles over them.
"Ah, okay," you nod, "makes sense."
The river would wash away any tracks he might be able to follow. Not that he has a single lead anyways. He hasn't for weeks. But he's still at it.
Chasing ghosts, you think. Must be ghosts by now.
He uses the eraser to trace a path, one going through a neighborhood you haven't been through before. There could be lots of supplies, lots of hiding places.
"Are you crazy?" You snatch the pencil back and glare at him.
One major problem, however.
He pouts at the tone of your voice, clearly thinking the same thing you are.
"We'd have to pass through the highway! That place was riddled with biters last time we were there..."
He only gestures to the map again, tapping dramatically at all of the places that have been colored over with pink highlighter — places you've already been in this short amount of time.
The map only covers the few surrounding county's, and they're pretty much all colored out. All besides the acres upon acres of farmland and those few houses on them.
"Here." He says determinedly, sweeping his finger across the highway, "cars, too."
"Lots of supplies, huh?" He nods, smiling lightly as you slip your pencil and book into your backpack. "You're right."
"Duh," he chuckles, reaching to fix the collar of your jacket. "Make it fast, don't have to stay."
"Promise?" You turn your body to face him, hand on his lap as you look up at him, "you know I don't like to stay-"
"In one place for too long~" He speaks along with you, earning a playful eye roll as you slide down the from the car. "Know that."
"Of course you do, Merlin."
"I'm... Merlin today?"
"Let's go, wizard boy!" You laugh as you pull your bag over your shoulders, heading the direction he'd traced on the map.
He jumps down, grabbing his own bag, "lizard? She calls me lizard, what is wrong with her?" He mumbles to himself as he tightens the throwing knives holster on his thigh, watching you strut down the deserted street; a fond smile growing on his lips. "Wait for me!"
Hand in hand, you and Mingi walk through the woods.
Fallen leaves crunching underfoot and the dull hum of the insects keeping you company as you both stay silent.
Not a lot of words have to be spoken between you; it's been that way since you met. He speaks just enough English to communicate and you've only just learned a few phrases in Korean.
Even with that, something so big, he's quickly became the most important person in your life. Not only because he's the only one trying not to kill you — because he's him.
You met him only on day sixteen. Grid locked on the very highway you head towards now, he had only spoken two or three words to you before he covered your ears as you watched the city be Napalmed.
That was the day he started taking care of you, and you started taking care of him in return.
There's something about him that feels... safe. Like he could never do you any harm. You can look at him and tell.
You can tell a lot by looking at him, actually.
His eyes tell you everything you need to know.
But it doesn't hurt to ask things anyway.
"Do you miss the way things were?" You ask suddenly, and you know he's thinking about it deeply as he stays silent for a good moment.
"No." He finally says. "I like this way."
"Why?" Seems like a good question to ask.
"More... free."
"There has to be something you miss."
"No." He smiles, swinging your arm lightly as you walk with his hand laced with yours, "this is better."
Mingi climbs up the steep slope in-front of you, up over the railing and onto the highway; head practically on a swivel to check his surroundings. "Come on," he says quietly, reaching over to help you as you struggle with the incline.
He grasps your hand and hauls you up the remainder of the way, "we check for hour."
"An hour? M, this place is a graveyard," you say wearily, holding his arms for stability as you climb over the metal rail, his hands steady on your waist.
"Hour," he nods, shrugging off his bag, going to say more whenever he realizes he doesn't know how to express what he wants to say. Instead, he only looks at you as he sets the backpack down on one of the countless cars.
His dark brown eyes almost shine in the midafternoon sun, his features soft as you meet them.
"I won't let you get hurt." Tone is a very powerful tool between you two. Even when you can't fully understand each other's words, the meaning behind them always manages to get across. "Stay to me, it's okay."
You look around the graveyard of vehicles for a moment before sighing, "okay, just an hour." You drop your bag next to his and get to work.
He's never out of your line of sight, hardly ever far enough away that anything more than a whisper is needed to speak as you both rummage through the leftover belongings.
It doesn't seem like too many people have been here before you. Things are exactly as people left them when fleeing the gridlocked highway. Like it's just been frozen in time; a snapshot of history.
You pop the trunk of what must be your dozenth car and smile down at the hidden treasure you've uncovered. "Hey, here."
"Hm?" He's popping up from the vehicle next to you immediately, tilting his head as he sees your genuine smile.
You gesture him over, and he makes his way quickly. "Holy shit." He chuckles, looking down at it with you.
Bags upon bags of nuts and seeds, freeze dried fruit, boxes of granola bars, sticks of jerky. "Thank goodness for paranoid people." You laugh as you take one of the jerky sticks, ripping it open immediately and near-moaning as you bite into it.
He smiles wide, tapping the open trunk for a moment before stepping back, "we need bags-"
"I'll get them!" You chime, a newfound pep in your step as you head back up the short stretch of road you've covered.
He watches you for a moment, eyes searching the space ahead of you just to be sure before he puts his attention on the trunk again; ripping open a box of granola bars and opening one up immediately.
You've been living off of berries and small game, the latter courtesy of Mingi and his throwing knives. And if you want to keep searching, keep surviving, fuel is one of the most important factors. This is a major win.
You don't know how he knows so much about survival or why he's so good in this literal end-of-the-world scenario, but you do know that you'll stop questioning him after this. You haven't seen one infected person, and you've just hit a serious jackpot.
His cheeks are puffed with the way he's stuffed the granola in to have use of both of his hands as he rips open all the boxes and dumps the bars into the trunk, discarding the boxes on the highway. "What are you doing?" You ask as you sit down on the paved road, opening up his bag and pulling his few changes of clothes out.
"Save room," he hums, peeking down at you, "what are you doing?"
"More efficient this way," you look up at him as you roll up his shirt and stuff it into your bag. "Right? For food, for other stuff." You explain with a point to each backpack.
He thinks for a second before nodding, going back to his task while you finish yours.
The shuffling of footsteps reaches your ears before it does his, quickly sitting up on your knees and searching the area as your hand finds the knife on your belt.
He notices your tense state, slipping a knife from his holster before he even hears the groaning of the threat.
You manage to spot it from your kneeled position, pointing silently. His head snaps to follow your finger, pinching his weapon tightly.
It doesn't even have time to snarl whenever it finally notices you both, only opening its rotten mouth with the intention of it, because his knife lands right between its eyes.
"Start looking in morning," Mingi groans as he falls back on the couch shoved in-front of the door.
You had just cleared the house on the edge of the neighborhood, settling in as the sun lowers below the horizon.
You hum in agreement, peeking out of the blinds one last time before stepping away and into the candle lit living room. "Safe here, right?"
He nods, crossing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "No shifts tonight."
If Mingi says it's safe, it must be.
You sit on the floor next to the couch and pull your sneakers off, sighing with relief. He peeks an eye open and chuckles, making you look to him. "What? It feels good!"
He bites his cheek for a second before sitting up, pulling his boots off and falling back down dramatically.
"Right?" You laugh, "told you so."
You pull out your journal, flipping to the latest page. Mingi's soft breaths become a dull and soothing background noise as your pencil scratches against the paper.
We found lots of food today in a car on the highway. Mingi killed another one. I didn't get as scared when I saw it. The blood still makes me queasy. We're still looking for you, but I'm starting to lose hope.
October 10th, 2010
Day Forty-Seven
There were no signs of you in that neighborhood either. I hope you're just being smart and staying off the beaten path. I hope you have someone to take care of you. I can't stand the thought of you being out there all alone.
The wind rushes through the single cab truck. Mingi behind the wheel, you sitting cross legged in the passenger seat, your bags on the floor in-front of you and your journal in your lap.
We've got a truck now. Found it in a garage with the keys hanging up, almost a full tank. Sometimes it still feels like stealing. Like we're doing something bad. But I'm starting to learn that's stupid. We're just doing what we need to survive. I hope you're doing the same.
You look over to him, and he gives you the courtesy of pretending he doesn't notice the swirling storm of emotion in your eyes; keeping his on the road ahead.
I hate to be a pessimist, but are you even alive? I like to think so but, I have my doubts. Mingi is such a good tracker. And the world is so violent for someone as soft as you. If it did happen, I hope it was quick. And I hope someone had the sense to
You clear your throat, barely audible over the wind, wiping your eye as a stray tear spills.
not let you turn into one of those things. If one day I find you, I'll be so happy. But I'm alive now, and I know that for sure. Mingi is alive now, and here, with me. I can't keep putting us in dangerous situations. I hope you can forgive me.
You shove your journal to lay atop your bags and take a deep, shaky breath as you look out the window. The sunset stares back at you, gleaming orange and yellow. It only makes you more sure of your decision.
The world may have ended, but it didn't stop spinning. And you're alive. Mingi is alive. You have each other.
"We can stop looking now."
He looks over, eyes sad and understanding at the same time. One hand comes down from the wheel and holds yours gently as you ask, "where do you want to go? The world is ours, you know?"
"I think..." He taps his fingers against the wheel, lips pressed together. "Anywhere."
"Anywhere? Nowhere special in mind?"
"No," he gives you a light smile, "just with you."
It earns him a huff of air like a laugh, "getting attached already?"
He only shrugs playfully, lacing his fingers in yours.
Take what you need and God bless.
The sign propped on the window of the pharmacy stares back at you, glare shining off the glass from Mingi's flashlight. "For tonight?"
"Better than the truck." You shrug, pulling the door open with little hesitation. The glass windows give you a good view inside, illuminated by the moon and your lights. The bell rings as you step inside with him right behind you.
Knives already drawn and at the ready, you clear the open area with no problem before throwing your bags down on the counter.
You busy yourself with binding the doors with his extra shirt so no surprises can find their way inside, while he slips into the back room; searching the stock shelves.
All of the labels are in English, so he just sighs before deciding to leave that up to you. "Useless," he mumbles, scanning the room once more. His face perks up when he notices the desk, a blanket draped over the chair.
"Tada~" He grins, holding up the blanket as he comes up to the corner of the store you've tucked yourself into, hidden away behind the counter.
"No way!" You beam up at him, "no blood or anything, good eye, Malcom."
He scoffs a laugh, yanking it back before you can grab it. "Malcom? Why with names?"
"Because it's fun to mess with you," you smirk, standing up and reaching to grab it when he steps back, raising a brow. "C'mon, I'm just playing," you reach instead for his belt loop, hooking a finger onto it, "I know your name..."
It started because you pronounced it wrong. Said you gave up and just started calling him different names that start with the same letter. A new one every day for the most part. Now that you think of it, you don't think you've ever said his actual name out loud.
You step forward, squaring his hips with yours as he watches with a hint of surprise. "Of course I know your name, how could I not?"
It's not like you've never been this close before. There's a dozen different instances that come to mind. Hiding in a closet with your bodies pressed together, holding onto each other as you wait on a branch for walkers to pass below you, his arms wrapped around you as you awake from nightmares, and yours around his in the same vein.
But it's different. It's quiet with something peaceful rather than with something frightening. It's making your heart race pleasantly, rather than thudding with fear.
His hair hangs over his forehead, shading his eyes in the low light of the moon through the storefront windows. You swear there's a blush on his cheekbones.
"I know your name, Mingi."
He lets out a shuddering breath, letting the blanket drop as you drag your finger on his hip. "What-"
"Let's have sex."
"What?!"
You bite back a laugh at his shock, shaking your head, "I want to do it. Do you?"
His eyes flick across your face wildly, hands twitching by his side. "Sex? The... sex?" He groans as your hand trails lower, his head tilting back.
"You know what I mean?"
"Yes." He says airily, "this is crazy."
"If you don't want to-"
You can't finish your sentence. He won't dare let you, cutting you off with his lips on your own.
October 11th, 2010
Day Forty-Eight
"You're smiling like an idiot." You grin just as wide as him as you sit up in the morning, morning sun shining on your near-naked form.
Laid atop the blanket you both slept on, his smile is only broken by a yawn before it goes right back. He folds his hands under his head and watches as you pull your top on, "what about... a cabin?"
"Hm?" You crawl over him and straddle his waist. Pushing back a stray hair on his forehead, "out in the woods?"
"Can find one," he nods, certain, "something safe. Maybe North. Me and you." His hand slides across your back softly and his arm drapes around your shoulder as you lean and peck his lips.
"Sounds good." You lay your head in the crook of his neck, sighing quietly. "Anywhere with you. Safe."
Mingi is fully dressed and leaning over a large map spread out on the counter, brows furrowed as he looks down at it.
"You know," you begin, jumping a bit as you pull your jeans on, "I think somewhere like Montana might be good. There's a whole lot of nothin' out th-"
A knock on the glass makes your heart jump to your throat, wide eyes snapping towards the sound and Mingi's doing just the same; fingers already pinching a knife.
It's a trio of men — living men — and you spot more than two guns.
"Shoes," Mingi points at you with his free hand, eyes never leaving the strangers, "fastly."
"Yup," you drop to the floor and pull your sneakers on quickly as he stalks towards the bound doors.
"We aren't going to hurt you! Just surprised to see something living!" One of them yells through the glass, making you jolt as you shove your things into your bag.
"M, don't open it!" You whisper sharply, running to his side and grabbing him by his bicep. Hiding partly behind him, you scan the strangers as they do the same to you and Mingi. "They might hurt us."
"We're sitting ducks in here," he groans, reaching back and pushing you the rest of the way behind him. You don't know what he's said, but you know the edge in his tone.
The men's voices are muffled through the glass as they talk to one another, and eventually the skinny Asian one steps forward. "Hey, really," he says loud enough for you to hear, hand held out to show them empty, "we don't want to hurt you, we aren't like that. We just want to see what kinds of meds are left in there. We ca- We'll even leave our guns out here! Please, one of our people is sick."
Mingi turns his head from them finally and looks down at you, clearly not having caught a lot of the words. "They want pills," you say for him, pointing to the counter and the shelves behind it. "Weapons stay out there."
He slowly slips the knife back in the holster with the others, stepping forward, "get bags, stay to me."
"Yeah, no kidding," you scurry back quickly while he hesitantly unbinds the door. Slinging one bag over each shoulder and then yanking up the blanket, you're back behind him by the time he opens the doors.
"Thank you, man," the man who'd spoke up smiles, taking the guns from his companions before they step inside; nodding to you and Mingi. "We really appreciate it."
He looks to you for clarification, grabbing one of the bags, "thank you. Someone is sick." Nodding, he takes your hand and leads you out of the shop.
"We going now."
"Wait, wait, a second!" The man follows after you as you throw your bags into the truck. "Is it just you two? All alone?"
"Nice meeting you," you say flatly, tossing the keys over the vehicle and into Mingi's hands.
"Hey, we have a camp!" His words don't make Mingi pause, but they do make you. "It's safe- well, it has been! So far at least..."
"And?"
"Well... I know how dangerous it is on the road. And, we've got room, could always use an extra pair of hands-"
"How many of you?"
Mingi calls your name from inside the truck, clearly telling you to get in.
"About fifteen? Women and kids, too."
You look to Mingi, who's shaking his head. "Sorry, man," you say, pulling the passenger side door open when he reaches across and pops it open. "We'll take our chances on our own. You understand, right?"
"Yeah, of course- hold up!" He speedwalks towards you, "here. At least take this." He holds a handgun out to you, handle toward you, "we've got more than enough and I don't want nobody else's death on my conscience."
You eye it suspiciously for a second before he gestures it again, "take it. Twenty round capacity, it's full right now but it goes fast. Look for ammo for a twenty-two pistol."
You grab it before he can change his mind, but it doesn't seem like he would have anyways. He just smiles softly as you peek down at it.
"Thank you." You nod, switching the safety on before tucking it in the back of your waistband. "What's your name?"
"Wooyoung," he reaches his hand out and shakes yours, "what's yours?"
You give your name, and then nod toward Mingi, "that's my man, Mingi."
"Not very talkative, is he?" He chuckles, fixing one of the long guns on his shoulder as it slips.
"We're a little weary of people."
He taps on the wheel as he watches you and Wooyoung closely, keeping his eyes on the man's hands.
"That's understandable. You, uh, be safe out there."
"You too. And thanks."
You climb into the truck before he can say more and slam the door closed, looking over to Mingi. "Do you-"
"Maybe." He nods, already reading what you were going to say. "Seems... nice?"
"Yeah, he seems genuine..." You watch Wooyoung walk back to the open doors, keeping watch for his men inside. "Maybe we could, I dunno," you shrug, "give it a try? Our little cabin in the woods isn't going anywhere."
He takes a second to translate, to think. "You choice. Where you go, I go."
You take a long deep breath before leaning over and rolling down his window, "hey, Wooyoung?"
He looks to you quickly, eyes a bit hopeful.
"You guys need a ride?"
October 25th, 2010
Day Sixty-Two
It's been a long time since I wrote to you, at least it feels like. Mingi and I joined some others. A camp. It kind of feels like before. The kids still work in their school books, and people all chip in to keep things running. There's so real leader, which kind of concerns me. People need someone to follow, especially in times like this. Someone good. People are too easily influenced. There's a man named Randall in o
The zipper of you and Mingi's tent comes undone quickly. "You're back," you turn to greet him with a smile — but it drops quickly.
You snap your journal shut and stand quickly, "M, what happened?" His face is tense, eyes a bit bloodshot.
"We're leaving."
"What? Are you hurt, are you bit?" You push his sleeves up quickly, searching his arms before he cups your hands, looking at you with dead seriousness.
"We are going, Wooyoung coming too. Not safe, these people-" He takes a sharp breath, shaking his head, "not safe."
"O-okay," you nod, "okay, it's okay." You reach up and pet back his hair gently. "Sit down, baby, breathe while I get our things."
He lowers himself to the floor shakily, watching as you hurry and shove your things into your bags. If something is enough to make him worry, it's more than enough to make you leave.
He goes on scavenging runs with other men in the group, and he's never come back shaken like this.
It's near dusk, quiet beside idle chatter within tents and the crackling of the small fire in the center of the camp.
The sound of the zipper makes Mingi react on instinct, knife drawn and hand ready to fling it before he sees Wooyoung. "Jesus," he sighs as he steps inside, "just me."
"What happened out there?" You ask as you pull the bag over your shoulders, grabbing the blankets up from the floor of the tent. When you turn and get a good look at him in the lantern light, you gasp, "Wooyoung, your lip..." Busted and red with crusted blood.
"I-" He shakes his head, "let's get out of here first. I don't want people trying to stop us. I grabbed us some extra ammo and food from the van. Let's go before someone notices."
"Young," you call out as he steps back out quickly, "what the fuck?" You follow regardless of your confusion; because Mingi and Wooyoung are the only two people you trust. And if they agree that you need to leave, you will. You still want to know why, though.
Mingi follows after you, hand on your shoulder as you question Wooyoung.
"Those men are sick," he says, voice tight, like he's choked up with tears or bile in his throat. "I cannot stay with them."
"What about the others?"
"That... that's up to them. I told Mary what happened, word will get around. I'm not sleeping next to them one more night." He throws his bag into the back Mingi's truck, and takes the bags from you both to do the same while you set the lantern down a bit more carefully.
"Where you folks off to?"
Mingi wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him at the sound of the man's voice. "Leaving." He snaps, glaring daggers.
He's standing just a few feet away, sauntering closer. Dave, the man who almost always leads scouting and scavenging trips. "Come on, you're really going to leave over what happen-"
"Yes, we are," Wooyoung says quickly, drawing his gun on the man.
Your eyes widen, clinging to Mingi's arm tightly as he pulls you closer to the truck.
Wooyoung is something of a pacifist. Never in these past two weeks have you even imagined him hurting someone living. That's just the way he is.
But the safety on his gun is off and it's pointed right at Dave.
So you quickly get in the truck, shoving yourself into the middle of the seat as Mingi climbs into the driver side.
Dave sets his hands on his hips as he comes face to face with Wooyoung. "You won't pull that trigger."
"I will. You're a disgusting person."
"Do it then."
It's a staring match. The truck engine turns over and comes to life. "Wooyoung, let's go!" Mingi yells, eyes worried and brows pinched together.
"Pull the trigger, Wooyoung." Dave says, his hand slowly slipping behind his back. "Or I will-"
A gunshot rings out in the air. Loud buzzing in your ears. A shout of pain follows.
Your arms shake as you lower your gun, watching Dave drop to the dirt as he clutches his bleeding calf. His own weapon dropped behind him before he could pull it on Wooyoung. "You bitch!" He screams, fuming.
People are starting to exit their tents, more lanterns being flicked on. "Let's go!" Mingi yells, taking the gun from your trembling hands as you stare wide-eyed at your own actions.
Wooyoung appears blurry to you as he sprints the few feet and flings himself into the truck, slamming the door. "Go, go!" And Mingi is already going the second the door is shut, wheels spinning as he peels away from the camp as fast as possible.
"Baby..."
You're parked off of the main road, middle of the night. Wooyoung is curled up in the cab, you and Mingi taking the truck bed with some blankets folded below you. Stars blinking down at you.
You haven't spoke a word.
He rolls over on his side next to you, eyes shining with concern. "Baby?" He says again softly.
"I shot someone." You say plainly, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "I shot a gun at someone for the first time and it was someone alive."
"He was not good-"
"So he deserves to be shot?"
"Yes." Comes his answer without a second thought. He tucks his arm under your head as you turn on your side to face him, other hand coming to sooth over your hair.
"What did he do?"
He takes a moment, clearing his throat and sniffing, "it was... there was a family. Father, two daughter. In the woods... and they — we told them stop. Wooyoung tried to make them, but they hit him. Held us back... while they had... turns." The words sound like they burn like acid on his tongue, like they disgust him. And they do. He could do nothing to stop the others; outnumbered and outmatched.
The cogs turn slowly in your head, connecting the dots of his broken story telling. "Oh, M," you pout, tears in your eyes to match his own, "it's okay, here." You whisper as you wrap your arms around him, his silent sobs shaking the truck lightly. "Shhh."
He hugs you tightly until his tears stop, he holds you even after that. You must have cried yourself to sleep, because your arms are loose around him and your breathing is soft and even.
He holds you for a few hours, at the very least. Staring blankly at the side of the truck bed and stroking your head gently while he tries to sort his thoughts.
He only moves when his arm below you is completely numb, slowly pulling himself to sit up and lowering you carefully. He flicks the lantern on and grabs your shared bag, finding your journal inside of it.
He's only written one or two things inside before now. He needs to get it out.
I'll kill anyone if they try to hurt her like that. If they try to hurt anyone like that, I'll put a bullet in their head without a second thought. The world goes to shit and they think it's their time to do whatever they want. That's not how things work. It can't be. Otherwise, what's the point?
We need humanity, that isn't humanity. That's plain evil and it disgusts me. I feel dirty having just been there. I can't wrap my head around how someone can do that. That's another person. That's a living person, how can you do that? Especially now when we need each other more than ever. We should have given those girls shelter and given that man a handshake.
This can't be what we become. It can't. There should be no place for that kind of evil in this world when every turn we take we already have to raise a gun. There was so much bad in the world already and now we have a chance to make a it new and this can't be how it is.
He bites his lip, bites back his tears, eyes drifting to your sleeping form.
I already failed her once. I won't ever let it happen again. She doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve this world at all. I'll put everything I have into protecting her. Into keeping her safe. I won't be able to live with myself if she gets hurt. She's the only light I can find in this bloodshed.
I won't let this world take her away.
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