memespots | Only Lovers Left Alive

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In a more normal time, this person would never be your type, if you even had one. But these days are nothing like "normal" in the least. The world, as it was, has ended, after all. The means don't matter: fire, ice, apocalyptic continent shift, zombies, despotic government that makes you wish for the former. All you're left with is the ashes of our former world and danger at your tail because you, lucky you, have survived. Having your pick or your type is a luxury you don't have; even if you did, it would be an extremely low priority.

As such, this situation, this relationship with this person hardly started out with any romantic intentions. It may have not even begin friendly. You came together out of necessity in order to survive, yet things got dicey as you learned to rely more and more on each other. When both of you feel as though you've lost everyone who'd ever been important, human contact is taken where you can get it. The more you rely on to watch your back, the more you rely on them for mere survival, the more you begin to rely on them for everything, in a way. While what you have between you started differently, it's grown and changed into something you can't describe. Still, you hold on for dear life, because even if you don't want to live for yourself anymore, you owe it to them to survive. This isn't love. It isn't healthy. It's codependency, probably, but it's a way to live.

What if they're not as much of a survivor as you, though? What if they're weak? What if you are?

...what if you lose them like you've lost everyone else?

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[ maybe they finally find a place to rest for the night, after being close to starving/weak from cold weather?

Zitao had been sure that nothing was going to be worse than the raging heat of summer. It had been sweaty and smelly and it was miserable. Life had pretty much become a series of miseries. But, he had comforted himself with the idea that it couldn't get worse. He had been wrong. Autumn had been a reprieve but then the days had grown drastically colder, it became even more difficult to find food. They hadn't found safe shelter that could provide them a substainable way to live -- warm and with food. They had to keep moving.

There had been more than a few times that Zitao had wanted to give up. The cold made him miserable and so very tired. If it hadn't been for Minho he was sure he would be buried under feet of snow, frozen and dismissed from this life into a blissful non-existence. Night had fallen hours before but they hadn't found a place to stop but now they came across a dilapidated shack and Zitao stared at it, wondering if it was already occupied and then decided anything was worth getting out of the wind. Maybe they could even build a fire inside and feel toasty for once in a long while. Food... his stomach ached but he knew that wouldn't be an option -- especially before morning.

"It looks abandoned." Everything always looked abandoned but Zitao decided that was a moot point.

Minho was sure they would both be dead by now if they didn't have each other. He was often the force between the two, the push, the ambition, the drive that got them to this point, but Minho felt otherwise. If Zitao hadn't been there, it would've all been pointless. Minho needed the motivation to stay alive, to protect his boyfriend, and to sacrifice whatever he had to so a future together could be possible in these dismal conditions.

He needed him just as much as the younger man needed Minho.

"Stay here, I'll check it out. Remember to take the safety off, okay? Keep your eyes sharp." Minho smiled, weary, but he took Zitao's gun from its sling to hand it to him. His hands were so cold, shaky, but Minho hoped that this beaten shelter would help.

After a quick but complete inspection, Minho peeked his head out and grinned, the first excited one in months. "Empty. I found some cans, too." he motioned for Zitao to get inside.

Zitao waited, holding the gun in his hand and he really hated the weapon. Something felt so dangerous about the slight movement of one digit that could end lives. Being that it would be in self defense but something about the idea of it in the abstract was aways one that he didn't enjoy when not in the middle of a life or death fight. He tried to keep his hand steady as he listened, waiting and his fingers felt frozen on the grip of the gun and a garrish mental image of his hands being frozen and melded as one to the gun nearly made him drop it. He was exhuasted and at these points sometimes it was like his imagination made things feel real that he knew were absolutely not real.

A small smile touched Zitao's lips when the all clear was given and then the hope of food. "What are they?" he asked, lowering his arm and losening his grip on the weapon as he came inside the small shack, and he couldn't help but smile more, the grinn on Minho's face a bit infectious and the thought of food made him almost diliriously happy.

Only Lovers Left Alive

choi minho

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