tw: gore, swearing, death n stuff
ages: dan-21. phil-25.
words: 2180
dan and phil were best friends and boyfriends in 2009, but that was the year of the apocalypse and the two lost all contact. it's 2012 now, and they're reunited again.
PHIL'S POV
I walked slowly, trying to breathe as silently as possible as I made my way down the empty isle, if I breathed too loud, they'd hear me. I narrowly avoided stepping on a spilt can of soup as my heart sped up, I could hear one, the isle next to me.
An abandoned Tesco in Manchester was not the most ideal place to be during a zombie apocalypse, and maybe I should have gone down to London like everyone else did when the military came, but I just couldn't. I couldn't leave behind my entire life. My family were all gone, in London. Any friends I ever had were either dead or in London too. There was nothing for me in a big city like that, so I was determined to carry on my life here. I felt tears prick at my eyes as painful memories I tried desperately to avoid came rushing back. Memories of golden eyes and brown hair, memories of stolen kisses and cuddles in the dark.
Memories of Dan.
I really shouldn't be crying over my old boyfriend in the middle of a potentially dangerous supermarket, but I couldn't help it. I missed him so much. It had all happened so suddenly. One minute, we were on Skype, talking and laughing. The next, he was shouting, screaming, telling me he loved me. And that was the last I ever heard of him. There was always that part of me that searched for him wherever I went, that hoped I'd find him again. I missed his face, and his voice. His voice, like velvet, the way he'd giggle when I told a bad joke or when I poked his dimple. What I'd do to hear his voice again. My memories became so vivid that I could almost hear him in the shop with me, I shook my head. I needed to stop doing that.
"Ew ew ew, gross."
I furrowed my eyebrows, shaking my head again. Why could I still hear his voice? Was my brain playing some cruel trick on me? Was I hallucinating?
"Oh, god, you could really do with some work done. The makeup isle is down there I think."
My eyes widened, no. It couldn't be. But it was, that was his voice. I felt my insides do cartwheels, maybe I was still imagining it? I made a whole through the cans on the shelf that seemed to be separating me and the owner of this voice. I discreetly poked my head through, nearly throwing up at what I saw. From happiness? Shock?
It was Dan. I wasn't imagining it. My Dan was stood there, at the end of the isle, a large gun in his hand. He was taller and skinner, his black jeans and black hoodie covered with dried blood. His hair was shorter, he'd cut it. But it was still in the same fringe that mine was, only his curled in an adorable fashion. His face was still as soft and squishy, he was still the adorable Dan that I'd fallen in love with back in 2009. I felt my face grow wet with tears just from looking at him, I'd not even seen a photo of him for 3 years. I snapped back into reality as an undead walked right past my eyes, making me jump back a little. I saw it heading towards Dan, and I felt my throat close up.
"Now that I see you up close, I don't think even contour could fix that."
He pointed towards its face, and I nearly laughed at how much he hadn't changed. Insulting fucking zombies in the apocalypse as a coping method for his remaining anxiety. I saw his hands shake a little as it got closer and he lifted the gun, aiming it before shooting. I gulped when it made a clicking noise, and he lowered it, still shaking.
